This tale begins three hundred seventy-seven years ago, but it does not start with Sophia D’Soleil, oh no. Back then, I was not Sophia D’Soleil. Back then, all those years ago, my name was Marina, Marina Lennon, but thanks to my three wonderful stepsisters, most people still know me better as “Cinderella.”

That wasn’t really what they called me, they actually called me “Cinderette” and “Cinderetta,” but you know how those storytellers get. One minute you’re running away and the next you’re in the arms of “Prince Charming”. My story isn’t quite like that and has nowhere near the same result.

It all starts in a small town in the south of France. Actually, if you rewind a bit, you can catch my mother and father’s death…yes, I believe that would be a better place to start.

On July 3rd, 1621 I was brought into this world by my own father’s hands. I don’t remember it, but I hear it was a rather riveting tale. Since I can’t remember I won’t elaborate, but I should tell you that on July 3rd, 1621 my mother died.