Philippe

Cinderella had always dressed – well, always in the little over a month that she had known Eugene, in what seemed at times like a life completely detached from that which had come before – with one eye upon Eugene. Would he like her dress? Would he like her hair? Would he approve? Would he think that she was pretty?

Would he still love her if she looked this way?

None of those questions had gone away, far from it. As Cinderella dressed with the help of Duchamp, she still had one eye upon Eugene.

But now, as much as she wanted to impress him, she also wanted to impress upon him just what he'd been missing during the three days that she had lived in fear of his complete and utter displeasure falling upon her like a sword.

She hoped – a foolish hope perhaps, and certainly a petty one, but Cinderella's hope nonetheless – that when he saw her in all her splendour he would realise what a fool he had been to treat her that way.

She did not voice any of this aloud, but she half got the impression from Duchamp's manner that she didn't need to. Her ladies' maid seemed to comprehend her mood perfectly.

However, to a great extent all of that lay in the future. For what business lay before her now, escorting Eugene to visit his son for the first time, she could hardly wear one of her fanciest ballgowns, or drape herself in jewels.

But that didn't mean that she had to be drab, either.

Cinderella's dress was blue, with the bodice and the peplum that went all the way down to the knees at the back and just a little bit higher in the front all of a single piece, and that piece a royal blue. The skirt was A-line, more or less, and the underskirt beneath the peplum was a lighter blue with just a hint of turquoise about the colouring, descending to the floor to conceal her feet in their flat blue slippers from the sight of the world. The collar, which skirted the sweetheart neckline and wrapped around her arms below the shoulders, was of the same shade of light blue as the underskirt, felt soft and fluffy against her skin. There were no sleeves. There was a light blue bow in front of the dress, where the peplum met the underskirt, and a blue rose at the centre of the collar. It was far from the most exquisite gown in Cinderella's wardrobe, but it was a pretty thing and Eugene would probably think so as well. She hoped so, at least.

For jewellery she wore very little, this was hardly the occasion for too much of it: a black velvet choker, from which dangled three sparkling diamond studs, clasped around her throat; and a simple sapphire bracelet dangling loosely about her right wrist, combined with her wedding and engagement ring. She wore a blue ribbon tied up in a bow in her hair, but this was more for decoration than restraint, it didn't stop her locks from spilling onto her shoulders, though not beyond. Her cheeks were gently blushed, and her lips painted with a dark red shade called love's spell.

A spell that still held sway over her, and over Eugene too assuming he did not lie to her.

He has no reason to lie to me in this. He loves me still.

I must remind him why.

"All done, ma'am," Duchamp murmured, as she stepped back to give Cinderella the view of the full length mirror.

Cinderella regarded herself. "Thank you, Duchamp," she said. She glanced at the other woman. "For everything."

Duchamp nodded. "It is my pleasure to be of service to you, ma'am."

Cinderella smiled briefly at her, before she turned to face Serena and Angelique. The former was sitting on Cinderella's bed, with her arms folded across her chest; the latter was standing beside the wall near the doorway, her hands hidden behind her back.

"What do you think?" Cinderella asked.

"I think it's incredible you're just going to forgive him and pretend as though nothing happened between you," Serena said bluntly.

"He asked me to forgive him-"

"Which doesn't mean you have to," Serena declared firmly. "What he's said and done is unconscionable!"

"You don't know-"

"I know enough!"

"Serena, please," Cinderella said, gently but firmly all the same. "Can you please let me finish."

Serena took a deep breath. "Of course, Cinderella, I'm so sorry. I'm just…I'm just outraged on your behalf, since you seem to have no outrage of your own."

"And I appreciate that," Cinderella murmured, favouring Serena with a small smile. "Believe me, I truly appreciate your concern. But I love Eugene, and although he made a mistake I believe that he loves me too. And so…since I love him, how could I not forgive him when he came to me and apologised? If I didn't forgive him…then I couldn't really claim to love him any longer, could I?"

"So that's it?" Serena asked. "All is forgiven?"

"But not forgotten," Cinderella whispered.

Serena pursed her lips together for a moment. "Has it crossed your mind that His Highness might not love you anything like as much as you love him?"

Cinderella blinked. She lowered her head for a moment, scarcely able to look Serena in the eyes. "I consider that every single day," she admitted. "And…and even if that is true…even if his care is only a tenth of mine…it's still much more than someone like me deserves."

"Cinderella-"

"You're doing the right thing," Angelique said, her voice as blunt as a cudgel. "Whatever we may think about the way that he's behaved – and I'm not saying that he's behaved well – you're doing the right thing."

Cinderella looked up, as Serena too turned her gaze on Angelique. "How can you possibly say that? Are these the low standards of the street talking because where I come from-"

"Oh, I'm sure that in your position you wouldn't stand for any of this," Angelique replied. "I'm sure you'd run along home and complain to your father the earl about how horrible your husband turned out to be, and raised all forces at court against him."

Serena stared down her nose at Angelique. "My father's a marquis, actually."

"Ooh, I'm so sorry," Angelique muttered. "But I'm not wrong, am I?"

Serena looked as if she'd caught a whiff of an appalling smell. "No."

"Very nice for you, I'm sure, but Cinderella doesn't have a father or a home or…" Angelique looked away from Serena and towards Cinderella herself. "I'm sorry to put it like that, I didn't mean to…it's like this: you could kick me and though I might not thank you for it I'd have no choice but to put up with it because…because what other choice have I got? Go back to the streets and what I was before? The only thing keeping me here is you: I'm here because you like me, and thank you very much for that, but…I'm sorry to have to say it but you're here because he likes you, loves you. You've got him just like I've got you and you can't afford to lose sight of that."

Cinderella didn't reply to that. There wasn't anything to say to it worth saying. Angelique was absolutely right, of course: that which lent a near-miraculous quality to her good fortune also lent precariousness to her position that depended entirely on the devotion of Eugene. However much she might feel ill-used she dared not trespass upon that devotion too much, not unless…she dared not.

Serena's eyes narrowed. "Alright, answer me this: would you roll over and take this from your little soldier boy?"

"My little soldier boy has a name, and he's worth-"

"Just answer the question, would you put up with-"

"Yes, I would, of course I would because he's my best boy and if we can't take the bad times with the good then what's the point?" Angelique snapped.

"Thank you, Angelique," Cinderella said mildly. "Thank you as well, Serena, but I'm not actually asking for advice."

"I just don't want to see you make the wrong decision, darling."

"I know," Cinderella replied. "But I have made my decision, and I don't intend to change it."

Serena bowed her head. "As you wish."

"I really do appreciate your concern, both of you," Cinderella said. "But now, if you'll excuse me, I should probably be going."

They both made way for her, and Cinderella departed from the somewhat safety and security of her chambers for the first time since she had returned from the discovery of Philippe, and made her way down the many windings stairs from the top of her high tower and into the bustling mainstay of the palace proper.

She had no guide down the stairs – she could find her way that far at least – and she found Eugene waiting for her at the bottom of the last of the many staircases.

His eyes alit when he caught sight of her completing her slow descent of the stairs, her skirt held up with both hands, and he quickly crossed the floor so that barely had Cinderella's feet left the very last stair and touched the wooden floor then he was before her.

Eugene took her hands in his. "You look beautiful."

Cinderella smiled, although with her mouth closed. "Thank you."

He bent down to kiss her, but Cinderella turned her head away slightly so that instead of her lips he kissed her upon the cheek instead.

"Cinderella," he murmured, and his voice did not attempt to hide his disappointment. He reached up with one hand to stroke her cheek.

It would have delighted her but days before, but now…now Cinderella reached up with her own right hand – her sapphire bracelet slipped more than halfway down her arm towards her elbow – and gently pulled his hand away. "Please don't."

"Cinderella," he repeated. "Cinderella, please look at me." He tilted her chin upwards – this time she did not resist him – so that she was looking into his face, his eyes. "I thought you had forgiven me?"

"That doesn't mean I can pretend that none of this happened," Cinderella whispered.

It was clear from the expression on Eugene's face that he had hoped, even if he had not expected, some degree of amnesia on her part. He said nothing, however, as he turned away from her. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…what does this mean?"

Cinderella stepped lightly around him, so that she stood in front of him again. "It means…that I must ask you to be a little patient with me, until I can…just a little patience."

"Very well," Eugene said. He smiled. "I suppose that's the least that you deserve. Now, will you take my hand or is that also too much?"

"No," Cinderella said, extending one arm to him. "Please."

Eugene enclosed her own small hand inside his own. "I…I am sorry, about all this," he said. "I never…I truly care for you, you must not doubt that."

"I don't," Cinderella said. "Now, shall we go."

"Yes," Eugene said. "I…I've decided to speak to Father first, and then…then we'll go and see my son."

"Very well," Cinderella replied.

Eugene led her through the palace in search of His Majesty, whom they found coming out of a meeting with the Premier and some of his ministers.

"Aha!" cried His Majesty when he saw them. "Is all well again between you two? I was starting to wonder if I would have to intervene in whatever was going on. Cinderella, I do hope that my son has not offended you in any way."

Cinderella curtsied. "Thank you for your concern, your majesty. Everything is…everything is alright, now."

"Hmm," His Majesty muttered, as he looked between the two of them. "You should take more care, son; a good wife is a thing to be treasured, not taken for granted."

"I am..." Eugene hesitated, and glanced at Cinderella. "I realise that now, father. Could we have a word? In private, just the two of us."

The King's eyebrows rose. "Not very gallant of you, to leave your princess waiting outside."

"I don't mind, your majesty," Cinderella said quickly. "This is something you should discuss alone."

"Hmph, if you both insist," said His Majesty. "Although I will try to keep this brief, for your sake. Come along, son, let's hear whatever this is."

Cinderella sat down as the door into the room so recently vacated by the ministers closed behind Eugene and his father. She folded her hands in her lap, and played idly with the bracelet on her wrist, tugging it this way and that, as she waited for them to finish.

She could hear the low murmur of conversation from the other side of the door.

"YOU'VE GOT WHAT?"

Cinderella smiled as the King's voice exploded out from inside the room, followed by more low murmurs.

"HOW MANY YEARS?"

Cinderella couldn't restrain herself from laughter, even as she covered her mouth with one hand to hide it from general view.

She got to her feet at once as the doors burst open and His Majesty strode out, crimson-faced and muttering beneath his breath.

"Barefaced deception…lost time…" he stopped when he caught sight of Cinderella, with an expression almost as if he had forgotten that she was waiting outside. Doubtless the shock had driver her out of his mind. He stared for a moment, his mouth moving with no words emerging.

"Cinderella," he said. "On behalf of my son I would like to apologise for the shock that you doubtless received when you made this discovery."

"Father-"

"Don't take that tone with me, boy, not after keeping my grandson from me!" His Majesty snapped, waving an accusatory finger in Eugene's face. He took a deep breath, that seemed to be intended to calm himself down. "Now then, shall we go see the child?"

"We, your majesty?"

"I have been kept from my grandson for long enough, I shall not be detained one moment longer!" declared His Majesty. "Footmen!"

A pair of liveried footmen soon appeared in answer to the imperious royal summons.

"Ready my carriage!" cried the King. "And prepare the nursery."

"Oh, congratulations, your highness."

Cinderella's hand went to her stomach as she shook her head. "No, you see, I'm not-"

"Just do it!" the King yelled, and both footmen soon scarpered off about their tasks.

There was some delay in the three of them setting off while the King's carriage was made ready and a suitable escort assembled, and when they did set off it was accompanied by a troop of horse guards in glinting breastplates and tall plumed helmets, who rode before and behind the coach as it clattered through the city streets towards their destination.

"Leaving your son to be raised in such a place as this," the King grumbled. "Anonymously, no less."

"He's with his grandmother, Father," Eugene murmured.

"And I am his grandfather but you didn't consider my feelings!" retorted His Majesty. "Oh, if your mother had lived to see this…can you forgive him, Cinderella."

Cinderella glanced at Eugene. He looked so oppressed by his father's disapproval that her heart could not but go out to him, for all that he might deserve it. She slid her hand on top of his. "I already have, your majesty."

The King smiled. "You are a kind and generous woman, Cinderella; Eugene is very fortunate to have made a match with you."

"Would you please stop talking about me as though I'm not here?" Eugene demanded.

"For all that I have endured," His Majesty said. "For all that I have suffered in my loneliness, for all my concern over the future of this family I should think that this is the least revenge I am allowed?"

Eugene said nothing, not then, not for the rest of the journey as the carriage carried them through the streets to St Joan Avenue, and the little house in the middle of the terrace with the green door and the polished brass handle.

Eugene glanced at the door from out of the carriage window.

"This-" Cinderella began.

"I remember," Eugene whispered, and it seemed to Cinderella that she could almost see the ghosts upon his face: the ghosts of Katherine and all the time that they had shared.

He looked so lost, so…so afraid of this house and what lay inside and Cinderella…Cinderella could do nothing to help him. She was his wife, his princess but in the face of his past…she was nearly powerless. All she could go was squeeze his hand reassuringly, to remind him that he was not alone.

"Father," Eugene spoke, softly and with some little hesitation. "Would you mind waiting outside for a moment. I would like to go in with Cinderella first."

"I have waited long enough."

"This is the first time that I have seen…" Eugene hesitated. "That I have seen my son since he was born. I would…I'd like to…"

His Majesty's expression softened. "I understand. Go. I'll wait here until you have had time."

Eugene closed his eyes for a moment. "Thank you."

For a moment, and then another, and then a third, Eugene was completely still, as if he had forgotten what they were doing here and what was inside the house.

Then, almost abruptly, he leapt down from out of the carriage. Eugene turned and held out his hand to Cinderella. "Will you come with me?"

"Of course I will," Cinderella said, as she let him help her down from out of the carriage. Eugene kept a grip upon her hand as they walked to the door.

"I…I've never been so nervous about anything in my whole life," Eugene admitted.

"I know," Cinderella said. "That's why I'm here."

Eugene nodded absently. He seized the door handle and rapped upon it three times.

There was a delay of a few moments before the door scraped open. The formidable old woman, Philippe's grandmother, stood in the doorway before them. When her eyes alighted upon Eugene her face paled, even as it set with seeming hostility.

"What do you want?" each word of her demand was practically spat out of her mouth as though it were a curse.

"Madame," Eugene said quietly, showing no hostility in response to her own. "I would…I'd like to see my son."

"Would you now? That's a first."

Eugene didn't deny the charge, or say anything to mitigate the venom that she poured on him. "May I come in?"

"Why?" demanded the old woman. "Will you be here tomorrow? Or the day after that? He doesn't know you. He doesn't need to know you. And bringing her here, so you can parade your new wife in my Katherine's house? You've got a nerve."

"It isn't like that, Madame, I only want to see-" Eugene began.

"Why? Why now? You didn't want to know before."

"And that was wrong of me," Eugene said. "Please, Madame, do not deny me this."

"Or what?" she asked. "Will you have your men clear a path for you?"

"That isn't why they're here," Eugene replied. "Please, let me in. I will be here for him whenever he needs me from now, you have my-"

"Your word? The same word you gave to Katherine because I know what that's worth!" she snapped. The old woman shook her head furiously. "I know why you're really and I won't have it!"

Eugene snorted. He was starting to lose his temper now, Cinderella could see that clearly. There was only so much insult he could take piled on his head and after his father – and Cinderella conceded that her earlier behaviour had probably played a role as well, she inwardly cursed herself for having contributed to this with her stubbornness – and now this he was about reaching his limit.

"Eugene, please," she placed a hand upon his arm. "Will you excuse me for a moment?"

Eugene looked startled, "Cinderella?"

"Madame, may I come inside and talk with you for a moment?" Cinderella asked. "I promise that I will be no trouble."

The old woman's nose twitched like a horse. She gave a peremptory nod, before looking at Eugene once more. "You wait outside."

"Cinderella," Eugene murmured. "What's going on?"

"I'll only be a moment, and I hope…please trust me," Cinderella said,

Eugene's face was contorted with misery, but he said, "Good luck."

"Thank you," Cinderella said, and to make up a little for earlier she leaned forwards upon her tip-toes to kiss him quickly on the cheek, before the old woman stepped back to let her in.

The door was closed behind her, and a shadow fell across the hallway with its portrait of Katherine, still seeming to stare at Cinderella as if the other girl knew just who and what she was.

The old woman led her into the living room, where Philippe was playing on the floor with some painted wooden soldiers.

"Hello again, Philippe," Cinderella said, as she smiled and waved the at the young boy.

"Hello," he piped, waving back at her with his whole arm as his grandmother scooped him up in her arms and sat him on her lap as she settled into a rocking chair. Cinderella sat down on a little wooden stool opposite her. It was not the most comfortable, but she could bear it.

"Thank you for agreeing to talk to me, madame," Cinderella said. "I don't believe we've ever been properly introduced."

"I know who you are, princess," the other woman said.

"My name is Cinderella," Cinderella said mildly.

The old woman frowned at her for a moment. "Esme," she said. "My name is Esme Clairval, your highness."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Madame Clairval," Cinderella said.

"I wish that I could say the same, princess," Esme said. "But at the moment I don't know whether to hate you or pity you."

"I suppose I can understand why you might not like me very much," Cinderella murmured. "But why would you pity me?"

"That man out there destroyed my daughter," Esme declared. "And now he'll do the same thing to you."

"I understand how you must feel-"

"Do you?" Esme asked. "Do you really think so?"

"Yes," Cinderella said simply, because she didn't really want to elaborate unless she had to.

Esme stared at her. "Did you lose your parents? Mother, or father?"

"Both," Cinderella admitted.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Esme said softly. "But it isn't the same thing at all. I'm sure you were upset, I don't mean to dismiss, but…you still had your future to live for. My future died with my daughter in the birthing bed. All I have left is this boy, and now you've come to take him away from me."

Cinderella didn't deny that. How could she, when it was obviously what the king had in mind. "You…you don't care for Prince Eugene much, do you?"

"He killed my daughter."

He feels the same way about Philippe. "I understand it was an accident."

"It wouldn't have happened if he'd left her alone," Esme cried. "I warned her, Katherine, I warned her about him but she wouldn't listen. She was always headstrong. Too headstrong for her own good."

Cinderella folded her hands in her lap. "Prince Eugene is a good man."

"Do you love him?"

"Yes," Cinderella said. "Yes, I do."

"So did my Katherine," Esme said. "Now she's dead and he's with you. What does that tell you about what kind of man he is?"

"You're making it sound much worse than it is."

"Perhaps I am. Perhaps that's my right. But if you want to take the risk then why should I try and stop you. But you can't take my grandson away from me. I won't let you."

"Eugene is his father."

"Much as you'd know it from the way he behaves!"

"I know," Cinderella said softly. "That's why he's here now, to make amends."

"To steal Philippe away from me!"

"No," Cinderella said firmly. "To invite you to come and live with us."

Esme was actually stunned into silence for a moment. "To…what?"

Cinderella's hand went to her heart. "I truly believe that no child should be without their father, if that can possibly be avoided. But I also know that you have taken care of Philippe since he was born, and I would never dream of taking him away from you. That's why we would like you both to come and live in the palace, with His Majesty, Prince Eugene and myself. Philippe will be brought up with…" she chuckled. "With every luxury and comfort, with his father and his grandfather. And you'll have servants to help you, and attend to your needs. Your grandson will be treated as a prince and you, while you'll still have care of him, will have every assistance you require."

"Really?" Esme asked suspiciously. "This is what you came here to ask me?"

"Yes," Cinderella lied. It would be true by the time she had talked to Eugene about it, she couldn't see any reason why he wouldn't agree. She was absolutely certain that His Majesty would agree to have Madame Clairval living with them like a shot if it meant having his grandson nearby without fuss.

"And what about you?" Esme demanded. "Do you want another woman's child in your home."

Cinderella smiled. "When I was nine years old my father married again, because as much as he loved me he worried that he couldn't take care of me by himself. He thought that I needed a mother's care. I would never presume to try and replace your daughter as Philippe's mother…but if he should ever need the care of a mother then I would be happy to provide it."

Esme was silent for a moment. "I do worry sometimes, about what would happen to Philippe if…I'm not getting any younger after all and…I suppose it's for the best for him, isn't it?"

"He'll have the best of everything, I guarantee it," Cinderella said, speaking confidently from personal experience.

"Very well," Esme said softly. "I agree."

"I'm sure you won't regret it," Cinderella said. "May I go tell Eugene? And, perhaps he could come and see Philippe while you're getting a few things together. I'm sure someone will come to collect your belongings, but if you…"

"Yes, I understand," Esme said. "I'll…show this prince in and then I'll go and start packing."

Cinderella got up off the hard wooden stool and made her way quickly back to the front door, which she opened to find Eugene pacing up and down outside.

"Well?" he demanded.

"Philippe and Madame Clairval are coming to live with us," Cinderella said.

"They're what?"

"You can't tell me that we don't have enough room," Cinderella replied. "And she can't very well be left behind; she's his grandmother, and she's all he knows. You can't take that away."

"I know that, but I wasn't actually intending to take him anywhere," Eugene muttered.

Cinderella said, "I think your father might have had other ideas."

"What's going on in there?" His Majesty demanded from the carriage.

"The boy's grandmother is accompanying him to the palace, your majesty," Cinderella called. "I took the liberty to telling her that would be fine."

"What? Splendid, yes, can I see him now?"

"Not yet, Father, just a little longer," Eugene said. "Is it safe for me to come in?"

Cinderella opened the door, and Eugene walked in briskly, as Cinderella showed him into the living room.

He stopped in the doorway, looking down on Philippe just as Philippe looked up at Eugene.

Father and son, so very alike, stared at each other.

Philippe got slowly to his feet. "Hello."

Eugene knelt down with aching, agonising slowness like a mountain crumbling into stones. "Hello. You must be Philippe."

"Yes," Philippe said. "What's your name, sir?"

Eugene let out a little gasp of breath. "My name…I…I am your father."

Philippe's eyes widened. His mouth hung open. "Papa?"

Eugene gasped again, and this time he reached out and grabbed Philippe, pulling him into an embrace.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry for everything."

As Cinderella smiled down upon them, she could see that Eugene had tears in his eyes.

Author's Note: Another short chapter; there was going to be a fair bit more to it but that will become it's own chapter instead. My aim is to have another update by the end of the month, because I'm doing NaNoWriMo again this year and so if there isn't another chapter by the 31st there won't be one until December.