Title: At Her Service

Author: K.S. Trenten

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 03/25/2025

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 23500

Genre: Fantasy, Cinderella, F/F fairy tales, nonbinary characters, romance, magic, royalty, humor, glass shoes

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Description

There are one too many Ariellas in our family chateau, when my stepmother becomes its mistress. She’s the rightful Ariella, and Ariella is a name she’ll only share with her daughter. Fortunately, the lady doesn’t realize I’m more than happy to give her daughter anything, including my name. I’ve come to live for the moments when I tickle her feet into her glass slippers. Why would I wish for anything more?

Magic, however, is going to whisk me away from my pallet in the cinders for a night of lights, dancing, and mystery. Mischief will try to sweep me off my feet, but I’m not so easy to sway. For princes are not what they seem, and a servant’s loyalty can be as strong as any spell.

At Her Service
K.S. Trenten © 2025
All Rights Reserved

 

“The dream chateau has proven to be as drafty as you warned.” Ariella leaned back in her chair, releasing a breath. “I think Mother would like me to have options other than inheriting it. Such as marrying better than she did.”

“The prince?” My voice got very soft, thick in my throat.

“Don’t tell me he’s got you swooning too.” Ariella reached up to lift my face to meet her frowning stare. “Claude sometimes calls him Prince Charming, but from what I’ve seen, he possesses no charms to speak of.”

“Perhaps Claude has seen something you haven’t,” I whispered, unable to look away from those brilliant sapphire eyes. “Sometimes something can be right under your nose, buried beneath behavior everyone expects.”

“Very true, but if the prince is hiding his charms, he’s doing an excellent job.” She dropped my chin. “It’s a bit sad when I have a better idea of how to behave around the ladies than he does, for all Claude defends him.”

“Your charms aren’t hidden.” The huskiness of my own voice surprised me. I dropped my gaze. “Not to me.”

For a moment, the air between us quivered with possibilities.

“Charm is a challenge when forced to walk in glass.” My mistress shattered the moment with a joke, turning her attention to the shoe in my hand. “I may well end up being the comedic relief at whatever social gathering Mother wishes to parade me around in.” She wrinkled her nose. “Assuming you can get those tiny things on my feet.”

“Please give these slippers a chance.” I lifted my head, met her beautiful blue gaze with all the courage I could manage. “Give me a chance.”

“All right.” She stuck out one of her feet, offering it to me. “I’m all yours.”

There was no way I could resist an invitation like that.

I knelt at my mistress’s knee and reached out to touch the jutting nob of ankle, allowing my fingers to run over the soft flesh that covered the hardness. I drew her foot toward the waiting glass slipper.

I hung the shoe over her toe and began to tickle her ankle.

She squirmed in her seat, almost giggling, yet she caught herself. My mistress refused to allow herself to giggle. Perhaps because of the withering look her mother gave her whenever she caught her smiling at me.

I stroked her heel slowly, giving her some release. Her foot spasmed, almost slipping into the shoe.

I withdrew the shoe, letting my fingers dart over the naked flesh of the bridge of her foot, exploring it, teasing it.

My mistress almost writhed on the cushions, her toes and heels moving with her, giving me enough space to firmly press them within the glass slipper.

I withdrew my hand, tempted to press my lips against her foot. Just what would she do?

Flushing, I raised my head to regard her equally rosy face.

“From now on, Cinders,” she said in a breathless voice, “you’re putting on my glass slippers.”

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I’m a California Bay Area author, exploring the borders of reality and gender to create new worlds and populate them with compelling characters. I live with my husband and our two four footed children, i.e. cats.

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