Glad Tidings and Misgivings

Eugene, Prince of Armorique, paced up and down outside of his princess bed chamber and waited for news.

Cinderella was in there with the doctor right now.

Eugene clenched his fists together as he waited for the floor to open. He had agreed to wait outside because he didn't trust himself not to make a scene or doing something that would distract the doctor at a crucial time. However, having made that agreement he found himself unable to think of anything but when the door would finally open and be wotluld find out what was wrong with his wife.

Actually, that was an untruth, one other thought consumed his mind: that for Cinderella's sake he should have acted sooner.

It had been about a month since he returned home from America and the war in Louisiana, and when he returned he had found Cinderella just as he remembered, in body and in health at least. He knew that she been I'll, seriously so; Etienne had told him as much, just as he had told Eugene about the hair-raising struggles that Cinderella had enduredcin his absence. But when he finally came home, when he saw her again and she rushed to embrace him at the docks she looked so healthy and so beautiful in the flower of her health that it was easy to believe that it was all passed and done with and that they could resume without difficulty the happiness they had possessed before.

He had wanted to believe that. Before he left he and Cinderella had been making progress towards a better marriage - which was to say that Eugene had been making progress towards treating Cinderella with a greater degree of respect than he had accorded her at times - and he had been unwilling to jeopardise that progress by mothering her. And so, although for the last week Cinderella had seemed constantly tired and short of breath he had allowed himself to believe her when she told him it was fine and she just needed a little more sleep. When she had vomited up her dinner the day before yesterday he had allowed himself to believe her when she said it was just something that had disagreed with her. Because she said she was fine he had not looked to closely at her discomfort.

It wasn't until Cinderella had fainted today that Eugene had remembered - had allowed himself to remember - that Cinderella was appalling at taking care of herself. From what he understood of her behaviour in his absence she had made her illness much worse by continuing to work through it until she physically could not do so.

God grant that things had not gotten so far yet.

Her fainting had galvanised him. He had Cinderella brought upstairs and forbidden her to get out of bed until she had seen the doctor. He also meant to ensure that she followed the doctor's instructions exactly.

He hope he ildid, anyway. He had always struggled to stand firm against the women he loved. When he married Cinderella he had vowed that he would be firmer with her than he had been with Katherine, for her own good...but he had tied that position into his patronising treatment of Cinderella more general and the fall of the second had brought down the first.

But he could not lose her. If Cinderella were taken from him, as Katherine had been, then...he didn't know if he could survive the blow.

He loved her. It might not always seem that way, given the way that he sometimes behaved, but he loved her. He had become a better man for knowing her, more able to compromise and practice kindness. He could never have achieved his triumph in America without her example.

He couldn't lose her. Eugene closed his eyes and tried to pray to God not to take his wife from him.

On the level below he could hear the others rustling as they, too, waited for news. His father was there, and Eugene's friend Etienne Gerard. Mostly, though, they were Cinderella's friends and companions: Marinette Gerard and Angelique Bonnet her ladies-in-waiting; Marie-Elise Duchamp her lady's maid; Jean Taurillion her guard; Princess Frederica of Normandie and Lucrecia Adessi, Cinderella's dresssmaker. They were all below, all waiting for news. None of them disturbed him up here, thankfully. Etienne had always been able to recognise when he neither wanted nor needed company.

Eugene furrowed his brow as he tried to pray, but he was interrupted by the sound of Cinderella's bedroom door opening. He whirled around to see Doctor Valons emerging from out of the room, black bag in hand.

"Well?" Eugene demanded. "Will Cinderella be alright? What's the matter with her? What can I do?"

The doctor's expression was inscrutable. He blinked owlishly behind his spectacles. "Her highness asked, practically commanded me, to allow her to tell you herself. You can go in, the princess is expecting you, your highness."

Eugene's frown had something of a scowl to it, but nevertheless he brushed past the doctor and strode into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Cinderella was sitting up in bed, her strawberry blonde hair falling softly down upon her shoulders. She did not look I'll. In fact, as strange as it sounded, she looked happy. Overjoyed, in fact. Her blue eyes sparkled and she had such a smile upon her face that...He couldn't fathom it.

"Cinderella," he said softly as he sat down on the bed beside her, taking her hands in his grasp. "What did you want to tell me? What did the doctor say?"

"Oh, Eugene," Cinderella sighed, and her eyes twinkled merrily. "I'm with child."

Eugene froze. He felt as though he could feel himself turning to ice. "You...you're pregnant?"

Cinderella nodded. "About four weeks, the doctor says. When you came home."

Yes, Eugene thought with a sickly feeling in his stomach, that made sense. Fortunately for Cinderella most of those who might have tried to claim that some other man was the father had already been dealt with.

That was the only good thing he could see in this situation.

Eugene got up without another word, turning away from Cinderella and walking over to the far well of the bedroom. He leaned against it, breathing heavily, saying nothing.

"Eugene?" Cinderella called out to him. He didn't reply.

"Eugene, please don't be upset; this is the most wonderful news."

"Is it?" he asked, as he turned to face her.

"Yes," Cinderella said insistently. One hand went to her stomach, Eugene couldn't tell if she'd done it deliberately or not. Her smile returned as she lowered her eyes. "I have our baby inside me."

"My children kill," Eugene said, in a hoarse voice.

Cinderella's gaze snapped up at him. Now she understood, he could see it in her eyes. "I very much hope you've never said that in front of Philippe."

"Of course not."

Cinderella frowned at him regardless. "I have to say I think you're being ridiculous. I thought you'd be happy."

"I'm too worried to be happy, worried about you."

"I know, and it's very sweet of you," Cinderella said. "But I'm not Katherine. I'm going to have the best care in Armorique to help me bring our child into the world."

She had a point there. Katherine had been too concerned with maintaining the secrecy of their relationship, to which end she refused the royal physician or anyone else Eugene might have sent for in favour of a local quack whose main virtue was low fees. There was no chance of that happening here.

But still, Katherine had also not expected any trouble. She too had been delighted...and her delight had been the death of her.

"Eugene, please come back. Please sit down," Cinderella urged, gesturing to the spot he had recently vacated

He returned, and once more sat down on the bed in front of her.

This time it was Cinderella who took his hand. "What will it take to make you as happy about this as I am? What can I do to make you see that you don't have to worry about me?"

"I do have to worry about you, that's the problem," Eugene replied. He reached up and ran his fingers through her hair. "But, if you really want to ease my concerns, there are a few things that you can do."

Her eyebrows rose as she gave him a look that suggested she wa wondering what she'd agreed to. "Go on."

"You, darling, are taking care of yourself from now on," Eugene informed her. "No more half-starving yourself, no more ignoring when you feel unwell, no more working yourself to the bone. You're going to do what the doctor tells you and you are going to take care."

"I'm not a toddler," Cinderella said.

"No, but you take less care of yourself than anyone I know and I'm not going to stand by and let it happen any longer, not in your condition. And you're going to take on some new ladies-in-waiting; two isn't enough to properly take care of you."

"I used to have more," Cinderella reminded him.

"I know," Eugene said. "Hopefully things will be different now."

Cinderella looked up at him. "Very well, now are you happy?"

"I...am less fretful than I was."

"Eugene," Cinderella scolded him. " I'm carrying our child. Can't you please be glad of it, if only for my sake?"

Eugene looked at her, and forced himself to smile. "Congratulations, darling; this is wonderful news." He leaned forwards and kissed her.

"It is," she said. "It truly is. I promise, Eugene, you'll see: everything is going to be perfect. I'll have this child, our child, and we'll all be happy, together. Now, Will you please go downstairs and tell all our friends that there's nothing to worry about, but only good news to share?"

"Of course I will," Eugene said, standing up. "If nothing else, Father's joy will surely outweigh any misgivings I might have."

But that did not mean that his misgivings were gone.

Cinderella barely noticed anything going on around her as Duchamp helped her to dress. She didn't really see her reflection in the mirror; she didn't really feel the dress being fastened up her back. Even the aches and pains that had brought the doctor to her: the swollen, prickly tenderness of her breasts, the bloated feeling in her stomach, the dizziness, somehow it didn't seem to matter any more, as though it had temporarily lost all its power to affect her. Cinderella's thoughts and mental gaze were all turned inwards.

She was having a baby. She was having Eugene's baby. She was going to be a mother.

It was so wonderful, and yet so terrifying at the same time.

Wonderful, of course, because this was her baby, her child, a new life being carried inside her, waiting to come out. A child, her child. The thought of it just filled Cinderella with such giddiness that it was as if she were going to float off the floor such was her bliss. She wanted this. She had dreamed of this for years: a family of her own, a husband who loved her and a child to love. The happiness that she had shared with her mother and father before death had taken them both away from her. Though her new family would never enjoy the quiet domestic bliss that Cinderella's parents had enjoyed, nlthere were compensations for that in the ample opportunities to help others in need of assistance.

She had been told that she would never have a family of her own. Her stepmother had made that plain. She would work and serve until she was too old and too with out to be of use. If she was fortunate then she would have the opportunity to tend to Anastasia's or Drizella's children, for she would have none of her own.

But her stepmother had been wrong. Cinderella had proven her wrong; she had a family and she would have a child and it was all so wonderful.

And yet at the same time Cinderella was terrified. Not for the same reasons that Eugene was frightened, but nevertheless she was concerned. This was what she wanted...but that alone was not enough to make her suited for it.

She hadn't recognised the signs. Should she have? When her bleeding didn't come, should that have been sign enough? Should she have realised what her nausea and vomiting meant, instead of trying to hide them from Eugene in the hope that they would go away?

Cinderella didn't know the answer, and she didn't know who she could ask about it either. She had no one she could turn to for advice on any of this, nobody who knew any more than she did.

No one who could tell her that she was ready, and that she would be the good mother she had dreamed of being.

"Ma'am?" Duchamp's voice intruded upon her thoughts.

Cinderella started. "Oh, I'm sorry, Duchamp, I was somewhere else altogether."

"So I'd gathered, ma'am," Duchamp said. "May I ask where?"

Cinderella 2as silent for a moment, wondering whether she dared confide in her maid. She was, honestly she was afraid to ask in case she was told that no, she wouldn't be a good mother. But...no, Duchamp would not be so cruel to her. Since she had known the other woman Duchamp had been very kind to her. Honest, yes, but never brutally so.

"I...I'm worried, Duchamp. I'm so happy, but at the same time...I wish I could be more certain that I could get this right. I...I feel as though I've no idea how to do this, and no one to tell me."

"A position that shouldn't be unfamiliar to you, ma'am," Duchamp replied.

"Hmm?" Cinderella murmured. "I don't understand you."

A faint smile played across Duchamp's face. "When I first met you, ma'am, you bad not the first idea of anything connected with this place. You didn't know how to address me, how to behave, what to do, anything. But you learned and, if it isn't overstepping my bound to say so, you have become a very fine princess, and a mistress I am proud to serve. You may not know now all that you need to, but I have doubt that you can learn just as well."

Cinderella smiled. "Thank you," she said softly. "You know just what to say to make me feel better."

Duchamp curtsied. "I do my best, ma'am."

Duchamp took her leave, now that Cinderella Was dressed and the maid's job done for now. But Cinderella didn't go anywhere. Although there was a small celebration downstairs waiting for her, she didn't leave just yet.

There was someone else she had to share the news with first.

Cinderella sat down on the stool before the dressing table. She couldn't get down on the floor or bend further, or rather she didn't feel like it at the moment with the bloated feeling in her abdomen.

So she simply leaned forward just a little and began to call in a soft voice, "Jaq? Jaq, can you hear me?"

It was about a moment or three before he scurried out of the mouse hole underneath the dressing table, her oldest friend in his little red jacket. Gus was a step behind him, his shirt riding up his belly as he ran.

"What's up, Cinderelly?" Jaq asked. "Heard Cinderelly might be sick-sick again? Cinderelly gonna be okay?"

"Yes," Cinderella said. "Oh, yes, Jaq, I'm going to be fine. Better than fine, I'm going to be..." She clasped her hands over her heart. "I'm going to be a mother!"

Jaq's draw dropped. "Cinderelly gonna...that's great! Just great; must be thrill-thrilled!"

"I am," Cinderella said. "I really am, I...It feels as though I've just gotten used to one huge change in my life and now here my life is, changing again." It was funny, this change was probably smaller than the last, which had upended every single thing about her life, but in some ways it felt more momentous.

"Congratulations, Cinderelly! Cinderelly gonna be great-great, no doubt."

"None?" Cinderella asked. "None at all?" If true, that was fewer doubts than she possessed.

Jaq nodded. "Mesa remember when I got sick, Cinderelly stayed up all night to make sure less okay. Cinderelly always been taking care of people, taking care of baby no different."

"I hope you're right, Jaq," Cinderella said. "I so very much hope that you're right."

Cinderella was feeling sufficiently recovered or at least sufficiently energised by the happy news, that she had been able to come downstairs and join the others in one of the palace drawing rooms, where a celebration was underway.

It was not the celebration. That would come later, His Majesty had already commanded a grand ball be held to celebrate the news very soon. Tonight the church bells would ring out across the length of Armorique to proclaim it to the skies: the princess was with child.

But you couldn't expect them to wait for a hall in a few days time. No. A little champagne had been broken open in the drawing room and a more modest celebration was under way. His Majesty was already discussing baby names with anyone who would listen.

"Louis, obviously," he was saying. "Charles is a good strong name, and you know there's something to said for Arthur, too..."

Angelique shook her head, in a discreet way obviously, as she looked around the room. Cinderella was sitting by the window, taking the load off her feet, smiling brilliantly as she talked to the princess of Normandie. Angelique wasn't minded to disturb them; she'd already offered her congratulations.

A smile played across Angelique's face as she contemplated Cinderella's joy in her new circumstances. And the happiness that she felt in seeing Cinderella happy. Who would have ever thought that the day would come when she would find glee in the happiness of a princess? When she would even care at all? But the day had co.e, and she did care. That...That 3as part of Cinderella's magic. She made you cars, by deserving to be cared about.

She deserved this baby. She deserved everything that she wanted to make her happy, and Angelique would do everything in her power to see that she got it. After what Cinderella had done for Jean, for Angelique, for the whole country...It was the least Angelique could do in return.

Most importantly, Cinderella deserved to not have her life ruined by any more stuck-up snobs like Serena de Montcalm or chancers like Lucien Gerard. Thankfully they were neither of them in a position to cause trouble any more, but...

But there was still Grace.

Grace du Villeroi was out there somewhere Angelique could feel it between her shoulder blades: like a knife. She didn't know where she was - she had eyes in the street looking, but so card to no avail - Or what she was planning but she didn't for one minute believe that Grace had given up.

But Angelique didn't intend to let whatever new schemes she had come to fruition. She wouldn't hurt Cinderella any more. That was a promise.

Angelique's eyes were drawn to Jean, who alone of everyone in the drawing room didn't seem like he was celebrating. He was standing off to one side, apart from all others, with his head bowed in thought.

Angelique made her way over to him, getting his attention with a hand on his elbow. "Hey," she said. "What's up? You don't look happy."

"I rejoice in the happiness of her highness, of course," Jean said stiffly.

"But?"

Jean frowned. "These tidings, glad though they are, bring home to me the ways that I have failed in my duties this past year."

"You haven't failed," Angelique said. "You're being too hard on yourself, and Cinderella would tell you the same."

"Her highness has a most generous nature," Jean said. "But the fact is that under my protection her highness has been attacked several times and her chambers entered repeatedly by very unsavoury characters."

"How were you supposed to know that there were secret passages in the walls?"

"Secret passages we still can't find," Jean said. "I am starting to fear they will not be found short of ripping down the walls to see what lies behind. The point is-"

"The point is that she is alive," Angelique pointed out. "You protected Cinderella from danger whenever it came her way."

"It was sometimes close," Jean said. "Too close, and with this child...I mist do better."

Angelique waited a moment. "Okay then, what are you going to do better?"

"More men, if I am allowed them, and a closer presence upon her highness at all times. I'm afraid she won't like it but Ibjlhope she will accept. And I have an idea for...Angelique, do you remember Oscar and her gang?"

"Yes," Angelique said uncertainty. "But what are you-"

"And do you remember Michelle, the maid that Lady Serena placed in the princess chamber under the guise of a bodyguard?"

Angelique's eyes widened. "Hang on, you want to recruit Oscar to pretend to be a maid while actually being a bodyguard?"

"There are some places only a woman can go."

"I suppose, but do you think she'd do it?"

"I think for the promised of guaranteed meals and a salary she might."

Angelique nodded. "Fair enough, I can see that; but do you think you'll be allowed to get away with it?"

"The princess gave us a chance, did she not?" Jean asked. "And besides, how can any measure be unsuitable provided that it keeps them safe?"

It took Cinderella longer than it should have done to remember that, actually, there was one person in the palace whom she could possibly go to for advice on motherhood, someone who had already brought a child into the world and raised them afterward. And so, after dinner, Cinderella made her way through the Kings Tower toward the rooms occupied by Eugene's son Philippe and by his grandmother.

Jean followed behind her, a silent shadow at her heels.

"I'm sure that you don't need to follow me around everywhere, Jean," Cinderella said. "I doubt anyone is lurking up here who means me harm."

"I hope you are right, your highness," Jean replied. "But I if that is the case I have lost nothing for being here, and you have lost nothing for having me with you."

Cinderella paused on the stairs, looking down upon him. "I haven't suddenly become more delicate than I was yesterday, you know," she said.

"I know, your highness, but please humour me nonetheless."

Cinderella pursed her lips together. She liked Jean, but she didn't really want to be followed round everywhere she went by him or anyone else. But, well, she supposed that this could fall under Eugene's insistence that she take care of herself. And Cinderella further supposed that, if anything did happen, she might be glad to have Jean nearby.

So she nodded. "Very well." And continued on her way.

As Cinderella had expected, Madame Esme Clairval was in her grandsons room, sitting on a spindly wooden chair watching him play with a wooden castle and some knights.

Cinderella knocked on the open door. Madame Clairval looked at her, while Philippe smiled as he ran from his castle and knights, bounding across the room towards her.

"Stepmother!"

Cinderella fell to her knees in front of him, holding out her arms to pull him into an embrace as he ran to her. "Philippe," she cried, smiling fondly as she hugged him and planted a kiss upon his forehead.

She could never have been cruel to him. Not after what her stepmother had done to her, not after the way the neglect had hurt as much as anything else. And Philippe was a sweet boy, happy and outgoing, easy to love.

She thought her child would be fortunate to have Philippe as an older brother.

Cinderella ran one hand through his hair. It was dark, raven black lime his father's but long and floppy, falling down around his face and to his shoulders.

"And what are you doing this evening?"

"Capturing the castle."

"Well that sounds dangerous, you must be very brave," Cinderella said. "I hope there are no princesses in your castle or they'll be very frightened to see you outside."

Philippe shook his head. "Although you could play, stepmother, and I could protect you."

Cinderella laughed. "I'm sure you could, but I'm afraid I need to have a word with your grandmother tonight."

"I've already heard the news," Madame Clairval said. "Congratulations, your highness."

"Thank you," Cinderella replied.

"Grandmother says that I'm going to have a little brother or sister," Philippe said plaintively.

Cinderella looked down into his eyes. He had his father's eyes, deep and brown. "That's true. What do you think about that?"

Philippe was silent for a moment. "Will you still love me, Stepmother?"

"Yes," Cinderella said fiercely. "Yes, Philippe, I will always love you, I promise." Augustina had once tried to convince her it was natural for stepmother to hate their stepchildren, as a way of advantaging their own offspring. Cinderella didn't believe that. She couldn't believe that, she couldn't accept that what had been done to her was just and natural. And she couldn't turn her back on a motherless buy ad though he had never been anything more than a toy for her to play with.

She kissed him again, and hugged him tight. "I really do need to speak with your grandmother," she said. "But I'll play with you after, before you go to bed. Is that alright?"

Philippe nodded vigorously.

"Off you go then," Cinderella said, and sent him back to his castle. As she got up, she saw that Madame Clairval was smiling at her.

"You're very good with him," she said. "It gives me hope for the future."

Cinderella sat down only a few feet from the older woman. "What do you mean?"

"I'd been trying to avoid thinking about it, when it was just the two if us, but now...I'm not getting any younger. I might not be able to keep running around after him forever or-"

"Please don't worry, I'm sure you've many years left."

"I certainly hope so," Madame Clairval said. "But if not...I know he'll be taken care of here, with you."

Cinderella nodded. "Eugene and I would take good care of him."

"I told you before that it was you I trusted, not him. That hasn't changed." She sighed. "Now, your highness, what did you want to discuss with a poor old woman?"

Cinderella was silent for a moment. "I'm having a child," she said. " I'm havi g a child and I feel as though I don't know the first thing about it. And I feel as though you might be the only person who could help me.

"My mother died when I was a young girl," Cinderella continued. Her memories of her mother were insubstantial things, moments shared here and there. She remembered just enough to say that her mother had been kind and loving, but she couldn't really say that she had known the woman who brought her into the world. "Eugene's mother is dead too. My stepmother is, um, yes, well, I hope I don't need to explain. None of my friends have even married, let alone...You're the only person I know who has been a mother so...I know this might sound foolish but I was hoping that I could come and talk to you, if I need...any help."

She bowed her head a little, waiting for the answer. Put like that, listening to herself, it seemed a very impertinent request. Who was she to Madame Clairval? Only the woman who had supplanted Katherine on Eugene's heart. That they got on as well as they seemed to was extraordinary but this...what right did Cinderella have to ask this of her.

"You know," Madame Clairval said. "I never got to help my Katherine raise her son. She was taken before I got the chance, and I feel as though I've been as much mother as grandmother to that boy." She smiled slightly. " I'm sure your highness will have an army of servants to help take care of everything but, if you do need my assistance, I will give you all I can."

Cinderella sighed with relief. "I...Thank you so much. I don't really understand."

"You asked but you didn't expect me to say yes?"

"I didn't have anyone else to turn to."

Madame Clairval chuckled. "I don't think that I'll ever be done of your husband, I don't think I'll ever be able to pretend that I am. But I don't hold that against you or anything else. I think...call it and old woman's foolishness if you like but I think she would have liked you. And I think, I'm sure she'd approve of the way you've treated Philippe. Speaking of which-"

"Can you play now, stepmother?"

"Alright," Cinderella said with a laugh. "I'm coming."

Cinderella played with her stepson until it was his bedtime, when she helped his grandmother tuck him in, and then she read to him.

"Goodnight Philippe," Cinderella said gently, as she gave him a goodnight kiss.

Madame Clairval left the room with her. "I understand that you're uncertain, your highness, but let me tell you one thing: if you show your own children as much love as you shown Philippe then I don't doubt your already going in the right direction."

Author's Note: I've missed you, Cinderella.

Cinderella getting pregnant was one of the earliest ideas I had for the sequel, and I kept coming back to it over and over again because it represents another big shift in the status quo. I very much don't want this fic to be a complete rehash of the first one, and so throwing in a big change like this right at the start will helpfully hope me avoid that.

The other thing I want to do better in this fic is Eugene, who was the most poorly served character last time around. I gave him the POV as much because I wanted to break the news of the pregnancy in just that way, but opening with him also signals my determination to do him more justice in this story.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the ride to come.