When Cinderella met Belle
Cinderella went down to breakfast to find that Eugene and his father were already there, awaiting her arrival.
"Ah, there you are; good morning, my dear," the King greeted her.
"Good morning, your majesty," Cinderella said, curtsying slightly to him as she made her way to the head of the long dining table. Eugene pulled out her chair for her, and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before she sat down.
"I trust you slept well?" the King asked, with a touch of jovial humour in his tone and a hint of a twinkle in his eye.
A quick glance up at Eugene confirmed to Cinderella that he had told his father about where he had found her sleeping. She smiled. "I did, your majesty, even if it wasn't in my bed."
The King chuckled. "There was a time when I suggested to my own wife that she should have a bed set up in the nursery, since she slept there so many nights."
"And did she, your majesty?"
"No, but that didn't stop her sleeping there," the King said, with laughter in his voice.
"I don't remember that," Eugene said, as he made his way around his father to take his place at the table.
"How could you, you were a mere babe," the King said. "By the time that you were old enough to notice these things your mother had stopped worrying quite so much."
"I can't imagine that at the moment, your majesty," Cinderella murmured.
"Neither could she at the time, I imagine," the King said. He clapped his hands together and gestured towards the table as he addressed the footmen standing on the door. "You may begin bringing out the food."
"At once, your majesty," one of the footmen said, bowing before he disappeared into the kitchen.
The King picked up a napkin and tucked it into his collar. "Cinderella, I understand you intend to call on Prince Adam in person today, and deliver the invitation to tonight's banquet?"
"Yes, your majesty," Cinderella said. "I thought it would be nice to welcome them to Armorique in person."
"It certainly shows the prince a great deal of respect on our part," the King said. "Respect I'm not sure the size of his realm warrants, but I suppose he is here as an Imperial envoy."
"Yes, your majesty," said Cinderella, because it was easier to agree than to try and explain that she probably would have done the same – or wanted to – no matter the size of his country. And after all, her personal desire to meet Prince Adam's wife, who was said to have been a commoner herself before she married Prince Adam morganatically, had no real relevance to the diplomacy of the state.
"What time are you thinking of calling upon him?"
"I thought I'd go see them at about ten, your majesty," Cinderella said. "I don't know how early or late they get up, so I didn't want to be too early in case I embarrassed them."
"That seems fair enough," the King said, as the first of the breakfast – a tray of delicious smelling pastries fresh from the over – was brought out to them. "If the Privy Council meeting is moved back to one in the afternoon, will that give you enough time with Prince Adam?"
"That should be plenty, your majesty, thank you."
"Will you have enough time to attend the council meeting and do everything else that needs to be done?" Eugene asked.
"I'm sure that I'll manage," Cinderella said, because as much as she refused to compromise on spending time with her children she was also loath to give up on helping Eugene with his work in running the country either; she would rather work doubly hard than give up on anything. "It's not as though I need to set the table myself." When she had told Philippe that she was going to get the banquet what she had meant was that she would be giving a few directions to the servants, and even that might not be necessary since they were so experienced in this sort of thing.
Cinderella looked back to the King. "Your majesty," she began, with a slight hint of tremulousness in her voice because it was an unorthodox request that she was about to make and she wasn't sure how her father-in-law would react to it. "About Prince Adam's wife…I understand that it's a morganatic marriage."
The King's mouth was full, but he nodded nonetheless, and Cinderella waited for him to finish chewing and swallow. He said, "Yes. Some village girl from near his castle, wasn't it?"
"Something like that, I think, your majesty," Cinderella said, trying not to think too hard about how so many people had dismissed her as just a servant girl from a chateau near the palace in the past. "But…I was hoping that we might treat her as if she were his full and equal wife while she's our guest."
The King frowned. "But she is not his equal wife."
"That doesn't mean that we have to stick her at the very bottom of the table, your majesty," Cinderella said. "I don't see the harm in seating her on her husband's right and opposite me." A ruling prince took precedent over a crown prince, so on the occasion of tonight's banquet Prince Adam would sit at the King's right hand where Eugene usually sat, and Eugene would sit on the left in the place more commonly occupied by Cinderella; Cinderella herself would, by a strict reading of the protocols involved, sit on Prince Adam's right as the crown princess and, by marriage, highest ranking member of the court after Eugene and the King himself. But if Prince Adam's wife – whose name, in a demonstration of the low regard in which she was commonly held, had not been given to Cinderella; Eugene had been at her wedding and yet even he couldn't remember what she was called – had been, like Cinderella herself, a princess by marriage then she would have ranked higher – as a princess consort rather than crown princess, wife to a ruling prince rather than an heir apparent – and so she would have claimed the right hand place and banished Cinderella to a place on Eugene's left. It was this seating arrangement that Cinderella was proposing to implement regardless of the exact niceties of Prince Adam's marital status.
"Don't see the harm!" the King cried, making Cinderella flinch from the boom of his voice. His Majesty had been, for the most part, very kind to her, considerate of her feelings in all sorts of circumstances, understanding of her unfamiliarity with her position and situation; in many respects he had been a second father to her. But what he had done, what Grace had made him do…Cinderella could not wholly banish from her mind the way that he had beaten her about the head and face in a fury, and though he had not been himself and although he had never threatened to do anything like that since…it was cruel of her, perhaps, and she could see in his face the way that it hurt him…but she couldn't help it, she couldn't remain stoic in the face of a sign of anger from him when it seemed that it might be directed at her.
The King looked shamefaced, and his voice dropped immediately. "I'm sorry, my dear, but you must understand that many of my lords and ministers may see a great deal of harm in some common girl, without even a countess title to her name, being set above them in status at the table."
"Perhaps, Father, you should give Cinderella a chance to explain why she wants this?" Eugene suggested.
Cinderella smiled gratefully at him. "I would like to do this, your majesty, because when I think of that poor woman I can't help but think that that so easily could have been me: having to sit at the very bottom of the table, separated from Eugene by everyone else; forced to give way at balls to anyone higher than me, which would have been practically everyone, who wanted to dance with him; not respected by anyone…well, even less respected than I was. That's what His Grace tried to do to me, at one time…I can't bring myself to inflict that one somebody else, not when she's our guest here." It would be so unbelievably callous of her, to do to someone else what she had so protested against having done to her, that it would have proved her to be every bit as selfish as her stepsisters had accused her of being. She wouldn't do it. She couldn't bring herself to do it.
If His Majesty would not allow this then she would have no choice but to join Prince Adam's wife at the very foot of the table with the most minor of notables for the sake of her conscience.
She was about to say so, when His Majesty spoke, "I will not set some common woman above the wife of my son and the mother of my grandchildren, above the future Queen of Armorique and mother to a queen more future still. But I cannot deny there is some justice in what you say, Cinderella; though you have some noble blood, many have argued that you were only fit for the same condition in which this poor woman languishes. We will place her upon Eugene's left, and generally treat her – although after you in status – as if she were a true wife to the prince."
"Thank you, your majesty," Cinderella said. "Thank you so much."
They ate breakfast, and then once the morning meal was out of the way Cinderella spent the next hour or so supervising the beginnings of the preparations for the banquet and the ball, before going back up to her room to change for her visit to the prince and his wife.
As Duchamp helped her to undress, preparatory to dressing in something suitable to call upon a ruling prince, Cinderella couldn't help but examine herself in the mirror, holding her stomach as she turned to the side to see how it looked in profile.
"Duchamp," she said, sounding a little nervous if only for fear that she wouldn't like the answer. "Do you think that I've kept some of the weight I had since I had the girls?"
Duchamp paused in the middle of what she was doing. "No, ma'am," she said. "I think that you've regained the figure you had before you got with child."
Cinderella frowned. Was that really true, or was Duchamp flattering her? No, that couldn't be it, her lady's maid had always been perfectly honest with her in the past, even – especially – when she thought Cinderella was making a mistake. As she herself had told Cinderella once, a lady's maid who flatters her mistress ended up dismissed once the flattering illusions came into contact with reality. And yet…there had to be a reason why Eugene had forsaken her bed since the birth of the twins, and the best explanation that Cinderella could think of for the abrupt change was that childbirth had made her unattractive.
It was true that her being heavily pregnant, with her belly massively swollen as a result, hadn't stopped Eugene from sleeping beside her, but then if that was not the answer then what was it?
Perhaps I should just ask him why he's stopped coming to bed.
But then if he tells me the truth…what if the reason is that he's simply fallen out of love with me, what am I supposed to do then?
You're being ridiculous, he still loves me; I can tell from the way he treats me.
But then why doesn't he want to love me any more?
"Ma'am?" Duchamp asked. "Is everything alright?"
"Yes," Cinderella said quickly. It was a lie, but these weren't the sort of things that she felt comfortable sharing completely with Duchamp, or with anyone really, even her closest friends. This was between Eugene and herself, if either of them ever had the courage to actually speak openly about it. "Actually, Duchamp, there is one thing."
"Yes, ma'am?"
"I'm not entirely sure how I want to present myself to Prince Adam, and especially to his wife," Cinderella said. She bowed her head a little. "I don't want her to think that I'm flaunting my good fortune over her. I can only imagine what she's had to put up with." Whoever she was, this mystery woman, she must love Prince Adam very much indeed for her to willing accept such a fate in return for the joy that being his wife brought to her. Cinderella could only hope that, while they were her guests in Armorique, she could help them to be happy together and not be instead another person adding to the misery of the unknown wife's morganatic position. It was for that reason that she was wary of turning up at their door in too fancy a frock, wearing a large amount of jewellery; she was afraid that she would seem like the worst sort of snob in their eyes. "But, at the same time, I want to be myself. If we're going to be spending a lot of time together, and I hope that we will, then I don't want to have to spend all that time pretending to be someone I'm not; I'm sure I wouldn't manage it anyway." Cinderella very much hope that they would become friends, not only because she wished to make a great success of her first time hosting visiting foreign royals in Armorique, but also because if she was right, if this other woman's experiences were anything like Cinderella's own at all, then she could probably use a friend while she was here.
Duchamp took pause for a moment. "I think, ma'am, that you have no cause to be ashamed of the pretty things that you have, nor to hide them away because others lack so many. And besides, morganatic need not mean poor; it may well be that this lady of the Franche-Comte has had so much bestowed on her by her husband."
"Yes, I suppose that is always possible," Cinderella said. And perhaps even likely to, for they must love each other very much, as much as Eugene loved her or perhaps…perhaps even more. "Thank you, Duchamp, I shall be myself. The lady of the Franche-Comte will take me as I am, I hope, and if not…then I suppose we shall have a slightly less comfortable time together then I would have liked.
"Very good, ma'am."
Cinderella dressed, as was her habit, in a white gown with a full, pouffy ballgown skirt with fell to the floor and whose width was accentuated by several layers of petticoat underneath. The collar – as white as the bodice – descended off her shoulders, swooping down the neckline by way of her breasts before rising again to slip around the other shoulder, but a splash of colour was provided by the presence – one at each shoulder and the third in the centre of the neckline, over her cleavage – of three pink roses. Her arms were bare, but as was her wont Cinderella covered her hands, somewhat callused and hardened from years of manual labour, with a pair of white silk gloves that concealed everything until the wrist from view. The peplum of her gown was pink and long, falling just past the level of Cinderella's hips, and a sash of slightly darker pink was tied around her waist into a giant bow behind her.
Cinderella decided not to be quite so completely herself as to cover her otherwise bare arms in jewellery as she sometimes did, but restrained herself to a single bracelet upon each arm: on the right, a double-strand pearl bracelet fastened tightly around her wrist, and on the left a single string of pearls, also fastened tightly but a little further up her arm. Around her neck Cinderella wore a necklace of large pearls, each the size of her thumb, which fastened snugly around her throat, while a pair of pearl earrings peaked out from underneath her strawberry blonde hair, which she wore down behind her shoulders, with her favourite white bow hairband to secure it. As a final touch, Cinderella picked a white rose from the vase of red and white roses that sat on the bedside table, and wove it carefully into her hair just ahead of her hairband.
"Thank you, Duchamp," Cinderella said, as she slipped her feet into her white slippers with the pink bows upon the toes, and turned first this way and then the other in front of the mirror. "That looks absolutely wonderful."
"I'm glad you think so, ma'am," Duchamp said.
And with that, it was time for Cinderella to go – although since she hadn't actually made an appointment with Prince Adam and his wife at least she couldn't actually be late. Nevertheless, it was approaching the time that Cinderella herself had set to go and call upon them, and if she was late then His Majesty's moving the council meeting for her convenience would have been for nothing, and so Cinderella decided that now that she was ready she should really be going.
She descended the many stairs that separated her rooms at the very top of the Queen's Tower from the ground alone, grateful that she no longer needed to be chaperoned absolutely everywhere for fear that she would fall as had been the case when she was carrying the girls.
Eugene and Jean were both waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, and Cinderella had to admit that, after her doubts about whether Eugene still found her attractive to look on, she quite enjoyed seeing the way his eyes and face lit up as she saw her slowly descend the final staircase.
He took her gently by the hand, and raised it to his lips. "You look absolutely lovely. Adam will be enchanted."
"I hope not, for his wife's sake," Cinderella replied, as she stood on tiptoes to kiss Eugene on the lips. "What's he like, Prince Adam?"
Eugene shrugged. "I only met the man once, at his wedding, and we didn't have a great deal of time to talk; we were introduced, we greeted one another…and then he moved on to the next guest he had to say sweet nothings too. His father had a terrible reputation, but the man himself…something of a recluse, as I understand."
"I see," Cinderella murmured. She didn't ask anything more about Prince Adams' father because it would have meant nothing to her either way; Prince Adam was not his father, and if the man himself had enjoyed the same terrible reputation then she was certain that Eugene would never have let her greet him alone. And besides, what kind of woman would enter into a morganatic marriage, a marriage where you were nearly guaranteed to be slighted, snubbed and abused by every manner of snob imaginable, to a terrible man. Whatever else he was, Prince Adam was worthy of a woman's love, and as such he could not be all bad. "I'll see you later?"
"Of course," Eugene said. "Have a good time."
"I will, I hope," Cinderella said. Eugene kissed her goodbye upon each cheek, and then walked her out to where an open-topped carriage – the weather really was warming up, and it was such a lovely day with the sky so blue and so untroubled by any clouds that it would have been a pity to have shut herself up within a closed coach – was waiting to take her away. Eugene helped her up into the carriage even if he did not mount himself. It was Jean who got in with her, seating himself opposite her but not looking at her, rather he cast his eyes in every direction other than at Cinderella as though he was afraid that there might be assassins lurking in the bushes of the palace grounds waiting to spring out at any moment.
Although, even if there wasn't anything for him to be alarmed about, Cinderella couldn't deny that his vigilant attentiveness made her feel safe. He had saved her from so many enemies already that it almost seemed as though his mere presence would suffice to protect her.
Eugene waved her goodbye as the carriage bore her out of the gates and into the streets of the capital. Cinderella opened up a parasol, which threw a thin film of shadow over her to protect her from the sun, and held onto it with one hand as with her other hand she waved to the people on the streets who waved to her, who called her name, who wished God's blessings upon her and her children.
Even Jean's suspicions seemed softened by the affection that was heaped upon her from every side as they travelled through the streets. "You are so very loved, your highness."
"And I am so very grateful," Cinderella murmured, as she waved. She felt somewhat entitled to think that she had come along way since her engagement to Eugene a little more than two years ago now. Those who had sought to destroy her – the Serenas, the Graces, the Henrys – were all gone now, and while she had no doubt that there were still some who looked down on her for having once been a servant girl, they kept it to themselves and Cinderella could walk without hearing whispers behind her back, or enduring open mockery at the ball or the gala. She still did not have many friends, beyond her faithful ladies in waiting, but at least she had no more enemies, or at least those that she had were harmless. Serena remained in genteel custody, Cinderella hadn't heard anything out of her since she had departed to the estate where, to this day, she remained; Lucien Gerard was in America, he wrote to Cinderella from time to time but Cinderella burned the letters unopened, that is when Angelique or Marinette didn't get hold of them first and burn them for her. Her stepmother and stepsisters remained in the chateau that Cinderella had once called home, declining ever further into poverty and incurring ever greater debts, from what Cinderella heard, to maintain themselves in the standard to which they had become accustomed. She sometimes felt guilty that she was allowing that to happen to them…but she reminded herself that she had given them a chance and Drizella had betrayed her; she couldn't be blamed, surely, for having run out of patience with those who had proved time and time again that they held nothing but hatred for her in their hearts.
No, Cinderella's enemies were all gone now or toothless, and if she did not have many friends then at least she had the love of the people, who liked her even if they did not know her. Of course she had to earn that affection each day by working on their behalf, but they worked every day on behalf of Armorique to keep Cinderella and Eugene and the whole family in state and luxury – something that the republican commentators who still spoke out against her and the entire royal family in the pages of the most radical newspapers never tired of pointing out – so the effort was not something Cinderella begrudged them.
Hopefully the upcoming peace conference would not suck all her energies or that of the government wholly away from domestic affairs. There was still so much that could be done.
These ruminations carried Cinderella – almost as much as the carriage itself – to the house that Prince Adam's messenger had given as the address at which he and his wife and household would be staying for the duration; Cinderella noticed that it was not far at all from the house that Frederica of Normandie was renting, the area must have a lot of vacant houses of a scale and luxury attractive to visiting royals – if Frederica could still be called a visitor given that she had no intention of leaving any time soon.
Jean dismounted from the carriage first, before helping Cinderella down to the street. He glanced at something, and Cinderella followed his gaze to see that he was looking at a rather scruffy officer in a white uniform, and a young woman in the garb of the outdoors, both of whom had just emerged from the stables beside the house and were watching Cinderella.
"I'm sure they don't mean any harm, Jean," Cinderella murmured, although to tell the truth there was something about the look of the army officer in the unkempt white uniform that was making her a little uneasy.
Nevertheless, Jean bowed his head to her. "As you say, your highness." He turned away, and mounted the stone steps leading up the red front door of the rented house. He grasped the brass doorknock and brought it down hard three times.
After a moment the door was answered by a pretty maid in a black dress that – like most of those owned by Cinderella – left her arms bare. Her eyes flickered from Jean to Cinderella, and she seemed to decide that the uniform young man at her door was only a herald for the gowned and bejewelled lady behind him because it was to Cinderella that she curtsied. "Can I help you, my lady?"
"Her Royal Highness Cinderella, Princess of Rennes and Crown Princess of Armorique, wishes to speak to His Highness Prince Adam of the Franche-Comte," Jean said, with only a slight hesitation when it came to pronouncing 'Franche-Comte'.
The maid looked surprised, but to her credit she didn't hesitate. "Of course. Please come in, your highness."
"Shall I wait out here, princess?" Jean asked.
Cinderella considered it for a moment. A part of her wanted to take Jean inside with her, but that might make it seem to Prince Adam and his wife that she didn't trust them; and besides, it wasn't as if they had come all this way just to do her harm. "Are you sure you'll be alright out here? Will you comfortable waiting for me?"
"I'll be fine, your highness," Jean assured her.
"Alright then," Cinderella said, and hoped that he was being sincere and not just saying what he thought she wanted to hear. The carriage was comfortable enough, she supposed, but would he be bored? She hoped not.
But if he said it was alright then she would have to trust him, and so Cinderella left him outside as she climbed the three stone steps and, picking up her pouffy skirt with both hands, stepped over the threshold and into the hall of the house. It was sparsely decorated, which was understandable enough, with a bare wooden floor uncovered by any carpet, and little decoration on the walls either.
The maid curtsied to her. "I'll go and tell the master that you're here, if you'll please wait, your highness." And then she retreated, leaving Cinderella standing alone in the hallway.
Cinderella clasped her hands together and waited, looking around slightly aimlessly at the almost undecorated hallway. With little to do she began to imagine what Prince Adam and his wife might be like. His wife, especially. Would they get on with one another? Would they like each other, as Cinderella hoped, or would the woman who had thrown herself upon the mercy of the court for the sake of love despise Cinderella as a spoilt princess who had everything that she, as a morganatic wife, could not have? Would she envy Cinderella? Might she even hate her?
Cinderella's wild imaginings were interrupted before they spin too wildly out of control by the sound of whispering from not too far away.
"What do you mean you just left her there?" said a man's voice.
"So? There's no need to say it like that," the maid who had invited Cinderella in said defensively.
"But you can't just leave a princess standing in the hallway!"
"It's where we always used to leave them."
"Perhaps, but that doesn't mean it was ever right." The man sighed. "Tell the master, I'll take care of this."
A moment later a man, middle-aged or thereabouts, emerged into the hallway. He had a slightly long nose and light brown hair tied back into a queue. He bowed extravagantly before her. "Please forgive us, your highness, we weren't expecting visitors, and certainly not a visitor so grand as your good self."
"Oh, I'm sure I'm the one who should be apologising," Cinderella said. "After all, I didn't tell you that I was coming."
"Not at all, your highness, not at all," the man declared. "Now, the master will be down in just a moment-"
"And his wife?" Cinderella said. "I'm really rather keen to meet her."
That seemed to surprise the man, but he rallied very well. "I'm sure that she will down shortly also, just like that." He snapped his fingers. "But if you will kindly follow me, you will find the parlour far more suitable to wait than standing 'ere, I'm sure."
Cinderella was shown into an airy parlour room at the back of the house, where there were several large windows almost the length of the wall to let in the sunlight. The room was a little better appointed that the practically unfurnished hallway that she had just left; in that there was a settee and two chairs to sit on, tables on which to set any refreshments, and a clock on the wall in addition to a couple of paintings of what experience of society had taught Cinderella to recognise as pastoral scenes, even if the exact content or context still eluded her. It was not what she would have called fully furnished – you could spot the places on the wall where other paintings had been hung before being taken down by somebody – but it was not quite bare either. A statue of a young man in the classical style – nearly naked, in other words, with only a loincloth to cover his modesty – stood in the corner.
"Forgive us, your highness," the gentleman said as he led her in. "The master had wished to rent a fully furnished home and I tried to oblige him, but at short notice…it seems that for some in this country fully furnished does not mean what it means for us back home. I hope to secure a little more furniture in time."
"Please, monsieur, you don't need to keep apologising to me," Cinderella said. "As long as there are enough places to sit I'm sure that we'll be fine. May I sit anywhere?"
"Of course, princess," the man, which Cinderella took as an invitation to sit down upon the faded red settee. "Would you care for some tea while you wait?"
"That would be very nice, thank you monsieur," Cinderella said.
"But of course," he said, and he bowed to her before he left.
Cinderella was left alone again, although at least this time she had somewhere to sit. She looked down at her hands in her lap: the sunlight was making the diamond in the centre of her engagement ring sparkle. She idly fingered her wedding ring, turning the band of gold around and round upon her finger, until the pretty maid brought the tea which Cinderella sipped idly while she waited for Prince Adam and his wife to put in an appearance.
"I apologise if we've kept you waiting, highness."
Cinderella looked up from the cup of tea into which she had been staring, in time to see a man walk into the parlour with a lady upon his arm. She hastily put down the willow-patterned tea cup – it rattled a little upon the saucer – and got to her feet. "Not at all, your highness, I realise now that I perhaps shouldn't have called upon you without sending some word in advance; but I was simply so anxious to meet you both that I just couldn't help myself." She sidled around the table and took a few steps towards the couple, extending one white-gloved hand out towards the gentleman. "My name is Cinderella, well, Princess Cinderella of Armorique but I don't think there's any need to be that formal. You must be Prince Adam, of the Franche-Comte, I presume?"
To be perfectly honest, the thing that stood out most to Cinderella about Prince Adam of the Franche-Comte was his size; the man was a giant, not only tall but broad in shoulder too, he towered over both Cinderella and his wife and would have loomed over Eugene too, if he had been there. His Majesty would certainly be dwarfed by the visiting prince in their every meeting. And yet, despite his size and the width of his shoulders and the fact that he looked as though he could almost have picked up Cinderella and his wife both at the same time, there was very little that was brutish about the prince's appearance; in fact in some ways his features struck her as softer than those of Eugene, lacking her husband's firm, square jaw line; the fact that his golden hair was so long as to require a queue to tie it back added to the impression of a certain gentleness about him. In fact, for all that Jean was probably about half the prince's size with his hat on there was more of a sense of pugnacity about Cinderella's guard than she was getting from the visiting prince before her.
Prince Adam took Cinderella's had with a deft softness that spoke of an awareness of his own strength, and a desire not to demonstrate it unless it could not be avoided, and though he raised her hand to his lips he did not kiss it, but simply ran his lips close to, but not touching, her silk-embraced knuckles.
"Enchanted, your highness," he said, politely but without any warmth; in fact if Cinderella had to describe what she heard in his voice she might have gone so far as to call it wariness. "Allow me to introduce my wife, Belle."
Belle was…well, there was no other way to put it, she was beautiful. As beautiful as her name proclaimed and more. She was a little taller than Cinderella, although probably by no more than an inch or so, and she was comparatively plainly dressed in a pink day dress with a thin skirt that barely spread out around her, and sleeves that descended to just below her elbows, ending in frilly lace sleeves. But she had soft, beguiling doe eyes set in a heart-shaped face accentuated by the way she wore the bangs of her light brown hair; she had lithe arms and slender fingers, a fair complexion and, although she wasn't wearing any make-up that Cinderella could make out, she nevertheless had what seemed to be a natural blush upon her cheeks and a glow to her skin that made Cinderella – who required expensive artifice and the services of a skilled lady's maid in order to achieve the same effect – feel at once rather envious and put to shame.
As much to the point Belle made her feel rather over-dressed and over-ornamented; Cinderella had declared that she would be herself, and yet Belle was being far more herself in her lack of artifice and she was still outshining Cinderella handily (at least in Cinderella's impression).
Cinderella spent her life surrounded by pretty women: Frederica of Normandie was beautiful, Augustina was china-doll pretty, Angelique was cute, Christine possessed a graceful elegance; but Belle…Cinderella wondered if this was how her stepsisters had felt.
Unlike her stepsisters, however, Cinderella mentally resolved that she would not succumb to jealousy. After all, what did she have to be jealous of? She had a husband who loved her, good friends, a stepson and two daughters whom she adored, an altogether wonderful life. While Belle…Cinderella could see the wedding ring gleaming on her left hand, a constant reminder of the limbo in which she lived. She might deserve Cinderella's respect for choosing and enduring the life she had, but she did not and could never deserve Cinderella's envy even if she had been the type to succumb to it.
So she smiled, and said, "Good morning, Belle; it's so good to meet you."
Belle's mouth was tight, and her voice was as wary as that of her husband as she said, "Likewise, your highness."
"Oh, please, there's no need for that, either of you," Cinderella said. "All of my friends call me Cinderella; or, almost all of them at least. There are one or two I haven't been able to persuade." Not only Angelique – it was slightly ironic that her dearest lady-in-waiting was the one who should still address her so remotely – and Jean but also the ever-proper Lady Christine continued to stand on ceremony with her.
Belle's eyebrows rose. "And are we friends?"
Cinderella blinked. "Well…perhaps not yet," she admitted. "But I certainly hope that we can be, and I think that would be easiest if we didn't have titles standing between us." She saw – or thought that she saw – in Belle's eyes that the other woman wasn't convinced, and she had to admit that she could understand why. She didn't know how much, if anything, Belle knew about her or her background, but she could imagine that after a while in her position it must become quite hard to trust the good intentions of people in Cinderella's position. Now it occurred to Cinderella that she had perhaps moved a little too quickly.
"I'm sorry," she said. "Please forgive me, I…I've never done anything quite like this before; I mean with foreign dignitaries such as yourself, and I was so keen for this to go well. Perhaps we could sit down, or…" No, Cinderella decided that it would be best to remain standing, at least at first. She covered her mouth with one gloved hand as she cleared it. "Ahem. Prince Adam, Belle, on behalf of His Majesty, of my husband Prince Eugene, and of myself I bid you welcome to Armorique," as she spoke, Cinderella spread her arms out on either side of her. "And hope that your stay here will be both pleasant and profitable."
Belle looked at her for a moment, before her lips twitched upwards in the beginnings of a pretty smile. "Did you prepare that, by any chance?"
Cinderella hesitated for a moment. "Yes," she said. "I may even have practiced once or twice in front of the mirror. I really do mean it, though; please believe me. I…I'm your hostess here, and I really do want your stay to be the best that I can make it. If you need anything from me please, don't hesitate to call upon my help, day or night, except for when I'm with my children; that time is precious to me, I hope you understand."
"I do," Belle said, her voice emerging softly from between her lips. "My mother used to tell me that our time together was sacrosanct; even when I was too young to understand what that word meant I understood that there was something special in those hours."
Adam sounded both a little amused and, at the same time, a little sad as he said, "For myself, my father was never not too busy to spend time with me…and I can't help but wonder if that's one of the reasons why…never mind. You may be certain, high- Cinderella, that I completely respect the sanctity of those hours."
"We both do," Belle said. "We may be your guests but we have no claim upon your whole life, body and soul." She paused for a moment. "May I ask how many children you have?"
"Three," Cinderella said, smiling. "A stepson and two daughters."
Belle frowned slightly. "A stepson, but then you only have-"
"Three," Cinderella said, not unkindly but quite firmly nevertheless. If she had stopped to think about it she might have found it odd that, on the very same morning in which she had been filled with doubt at the idea of Philippe calling her 'mother' she should so bristle at the idea that he might not be her son, but then Cinderella wasn't thinking about it because, as far as she was concerned, there was nothing to think about. Stepson or no, she still had three children to love and raise and care for and no amount of words could ever change that. "I may not have brought Philippe into this world but he is still my child, and I am the only mother he has."
Belle's frown lifted, and her eyes brightened a little. "I see. I'm sorry if I upset you."
"No, please, don't apologise. And you? Do you have any children of your own?"
Belle's expression fell, and she looked down at the wooden floor. "No. I'm afraid we haven't been blessed."
"Oh," Cinderella said, her own feelings falling much like the look of Belle's face. "I am sorry, and sorry to have brought it up."
"Don't worry, its fine," Belle said quickly. "After all, there's still plenty of time."
"Perhaps we should sit down," Adam said. "And try some of the tea before it gets cold."
Cinderella gratefully returned to her seat on the settee, while Adam and Belle sat side by side in the twin armchairs on the other side of the table. Cinderella picked up her cup, and found that while it had cooled a little it was still perfectly drinkable.
Belle added a couple of lumps of sugar to her tea. "Pri- Cinderella," she corrected herself with a smile. "Did you really come all this way just to welcome us to your country?"
Cinderella covered her mouth with one hand to hide a chuckle. "It really isn't all that far from the palace, I assure you."
"Some princesses would have found it too far anyway," Belle pointed out.
Cinderella pursed her lips together. "I…I know that I can't really imagine what your life has been like, Belle…but I was just a servant when Prince Eugene asked me to be his wife, and only last year his cousin tried to have our marriage rendered morganatic because someone of my background wasn't fit to be the princess of this country. He didn't succeed, but…I know that this might sound like bragging or vanity but I hope I'm not like other princesses that you've met. I…I don't intend to treat you as anything less than myself for as long as you're here. That's another reason why I came here this morning: on behalf of the King, Prince Eugene and myself I would like to invite you both personally to a banquet and a ball to be held in your honour, to celebrate your arrival in Armorique; and at this banquet, Belle, I would be honoured if you would sit across the table from me." It occurred to Cinderella then that after she was finished here she should probably call on Frederica – who would be sitting next to Cinderella on her right but just below Belle – to soothe in advance any ruffled feathers that she might have about this; Frederica was a dear friend but Cinderella didn't know exactly how she'd react to this, and she didn't want her to be rude to Belle tonight.
Belle looked shocked, her eyes widened and her eyebrows rose towards her bangs and her mouth formed a started square in the bottom of her face. "You…you want me to sit next to you?"
"Yes," Cinderella said. "I would have had you sitting next to Prince Adam, but I'm afraid his majesty wouldn't allow me to go quite that far?"
"At the head of the table?" Adam asked. His voice rose a little as he demanded, "Is this a joke?"
"No!" Cinderella cried. "Do you think that this is a trick of some kind, I would never do such a thing?"
"No, you wouldn't, would you?" Belle asked. "You really mean it."
It was not phrased as a question, but Cinderella answered nevertheless. "Yes," she said. "I really mean it."
Belle let out a little gasp of shock. "I would sit opposite, and just one place down from Adam?"
"On the other side of the table, yes," Cinderella confirmed.
A joyous laugh escaped from Prince Adam's lips, and Belle smiled as brightly as the sun outside. "That…" she began, halting after a single word. "That would be wonderful! Thank you!"
"Yes," Adam said. "Thank you so much! You can't have any idea what this means to both of us."
Cinderella didn't contest that point, although she had imagined – more than once – the consequences if the Duke of Cherbourg had had his way and she had been reduced to just Cinderella, her royal tiara stripped away from her: condemned to watch Eugene from afar, to strain her ears to catch the slightest echo of his words, to stand in the corner of the ballroom while he danced with other women, to bring children into the world who would be seen as little better than illegitimate.
Perhaps Cinderella could not imagine what this meant for Adam, and especially for Belle…but she could imagine enough, and know enough, to know without a doubt that she was doing the right thing.
Belle looked, absurdly, a little guilty. "I feel as though we owe you an apology," she said. "We were a little suspicious of you, and now it seems so rude, but I hope you can understand: you really aren't like most people of your position that I've met since I married Adam."
Cinderella held up one hand. "Please, there's no need to apologise, no need at all." She smiled sadly. "I may be a princess, but believe me I've had no shortage of people look down on me for where I came from; I completely understand that you thought I would do the same. You weren't rude, I was too forward, rushing in expecting that we could be friends immediately as though you wouldn't wonder why." She let out a little, slightly melancholy laugh. "As a matter of fact, I might even prefer that you were honest about the way you felt at first; a lot of people have been very nice to me from the very moment I met them…and a lot of those people have turned out not to have my best interests at heart." Lucien Gerard had been so warm and charming when she first met him, Cinderella had felt as though he was a friend that she could always rely on…but that had only been a ruse to get money and favours out of her; his true face had been the one that persecuted Cinderella night and day with declarations of love until eventually he tried to take her love by force. Serena and Grace had been the only two ladies in the court to offer her friendship from the first, but both of them had been her enemies, vipers who wanted her to hold them to her bosom before they bit her. Compared to that, perhaps there was something to be said for the honest suspicion of Belle and Adam, especially since it could hardly be said to be unwarranted in their circumstances. Her smile brightened. "But all of that is behind us now, and I do hope that we can go forwards to something better."
Belle smiled back at her. "I trust you, although I still don't really understand why you're taking so much trouble. What does a princess need with friends like…well…"
"I don't think it's possible to have too many friends," Cinderella said. Especially when I had so few growing up. "And besides, I would hate for any guests of ours to be unhappy here, and I really do want this congress to proceed and proceed successfully."
"In that case, you may be wasting your time with us," Adam said, with a touch of regret in his voice. "Queen Maria Theresa will not be persuaded of your good intentions by the fact that you were kind and considerate to Belle."
"No, I suppose not," Cinderella allowed. "But if you write to her and tell her that we will be completely fair in our dealings…that's what she's worried about, isn't it?"
"She's worried that this is a cover for a plot to take away the spoils of her victories," Adam murmured.
"There is no plot," Cinderella insisted. "Our only desire is to see this dreadful war over."
The war between the Holy Roman Empire and the Kingdom of Aquitaine had been going on since before Cinderella and Eugene were married as the two battled over an inheritance in eastern France; before he had come to know her better, Etienne Gerard had sought to show her up by demonstrating her ignorance of it before Eugene, but though she was better informed now as to the causes and the course of the struggle Cinderella had not wavered in her belief that peace was for the best, and whatever part she could play in achieving that peace she would do so to the best of her ability.
"Really?" Belle murmured, with a touch of archness in her tone. "I…I think I believe you, but all of you? The Queen believes that you want the glory that will come from hosting all the crowns of Europe and arbitrating their disputes, and I can believe that, too."
"I don't care about that," Cinderella said. "Perhaps His Majesty does, I haven't asked him; perhaps the King's ministers care about such things, but I don't. This is not our war, but all I can do is remember how we went to war two years ago against some of our American colonists; my husband, Prince Eugene, went across the sea to lead our forces." And with him had gone Etienne Gerard, who had asked Cinderella's dressmaker Lucrecia to marry him not long before; it was only blind luck or his position as Cinderella's guard that meant that Jean had not been called upon to board a ship and put Angelique through the same agony that had engulfed Cinderella and Lucrecia. Augustina's father and one of her brothers had gone to war, and the beau of Constance, one of Cinderella's chamber-maids. There was scarcely anyone in the palace who didn't have at least a friend going off to fight in the American war, and many had a father or brother or a lover; the boy who had asked to marry them, the boy they hoped would ask, the boy the kissed in empty corridors where there was nobody to see. And they had all gone off to war, boarding the great ships with horses and guns, and left their families and their beaus desperate and distraught; the high and low alike of Armorique united in their prayers for the boys far from home.
"I remember," Cinderella said. "How I spent every day worrying about Eugene, always at the back of my day. I wrote him a letter every day, even though most of them were thoroughly boring, because I missed him so much and when he wrote to me…it was like sunlight coming through the clouds. I think that's how so many families across Armorique felt, and when I think about how many families across all of Europe must be feeling the same way right now…I want to help bring their boys back home, if I can."
Belle stared into Cinderella's eyes as she leaned forwards. "The things that you say…I'm not sure that I'd believe them from everyone, but I believe you. They're the reason I was so glad that Adam didn't send any men to join the Empire's war."
"They're the reason I didn't send any men, although please don't mention that outside of this room," Adam said. He sighed. "The truth is that we could have spared some men from the harvest, not many but a few…men my age, with wives Belle's age. It would have been selfish of me to have sent them away from their wives and not gone myself and…" he reached across, and ran one hand through Belle's soft brown hair, a gesture that made her close her eyes and smile contentedly. "I couldn't bring myself to go."
"I should hope not," Belle said sharply, opening her eyes once more. "Two nights of violence in our lives was quite enough, don't you think?"
"Then we're all agreed?" Cinderella asked. "This war should end."
"It should," Adam agreed. "But, you have to understand, that we cannot simply write to Queen Maria Theresa immediately and tell her that all is well; she'll suspect that we haven't been as diligent as she would like, and even if she comes and doesn't like what she finds…I must serve her well, for Belle's sake."
Belle pursed her lips together slightly, but said nothing.
Cinderella smiled. "Well then," she said brightly. "In that case, I shall just have to convince you, shan't I? And through you the queen."
Belle nodded, slowly and thoughtfully. "I hope," she began. "No, I think, that you will do just that."
Author's Note: Fair warning, the next chapter will be in some part a perspective flip of this one, as I think that the first meeting of our two heroines is important enough to get both their opinions on how it went and what they thought of one another (plus, what Belle was expecting Cinderella to be like beforehand).
I personally think that Cinderella is prettier than Belle, but based on my quick study of 'prettiest/most beautiful Disney Princess' rankings and polls I'm very much a minority opinion on that.
