The Rich and the Poor
It was the middle of the night, and though Drizella yawned with fatigue she did not fall asleep.
She hadn't even gone to bed, although it seemed as though everyone else in this part of the palace had. Instead, she was sat by the door to her inadequately small room - said door being ajar - and waited for Prince Eugene to come by.
He had gone past several hours ago now, escorting Cinderella up to her room. He had to do that because she was too stupid to find the way by herself, and would probably have forgotten where she slept if it hadn't been for Prince Eugene leading the way. But that had been several hours ago and he hadn't come back down since. Drizella knew that because she had been waiting for him to come back down so that she could seduce him, or at least make a start on it. Where was he? How long did it take to say goodnight, especially to Cinderella; Drizella would have thought it was a relief to get away from her, which was certainly how she felt at the end of the day.
And yet Prince Eugene seemed unable to get away, considering that he hadn't come back downstairs yet. Drizella yawned. At this rate she was going to be too tired to be at her best when the time came.
Whatever her best really was. With no one around and, more importantly, no mother to overhear her, Drizella could confess to herself that she was nervous about this. It was all very well for mother to say that the prince would be looking for a mistress and that Drizella should make sure that she was it, but that wasn't much help for Drizella in actually becoming said mistress. She'd never seduced anybody in her life before. She'd wanted to, just as she wanted to do so now, but that didn't mean she knew how. So there was a part of her, a very small part, that was glad Prince Eugene hadn't come down yet for all that she didn't understand why, because it meant that she could think about what she was going to do when he did.
Perhaps she should simply throw herself on him and trust that he'd know what to do next? He was a very experienced man, after all.
On the other hand if he wasn't expecting it he might not take it well. Drizella didn't want to scare him off. Perhaps she should be subtle.
Oh, your highness, you must be very lonely at nights nowadays...sleeping alone. Perhaps there's something I could to help with that?
Perhaps she should have gone to his room while he wasn't there and lain in wait for him, then when he (finally) got there he would have found her posed seductively on the bed. Provided she could work out what a seductive pose was.
Forgive me, your highness, I...seem to have gotten lost. And then this bed was so comfortable...and wide.
Or maybe she should be blunt and ask him if he'd found a suitable mistress yet?
Or perhaps, instead, she should wait until she got to sit down to dinner with him and then play footsie beneath the table to let him know what she was about.
Drizella felt as though she had a plethora of choices laid out before her and no way of knowing which was the best one. Not that it mattered if Prince Eugene never came down the stairs. What was he doing, and what was taking him so long?
The bear charged at Cinderella with fangs red and eyes to match.
No one stood between Cinderella and the beast, no one stepped forward to protect her or Philippe. She tried to pull her foot free but it was stuck fast, stuck in the tangle of roots that seemed to grow tighter and more painful all the time.
The bear bore down upon her. Cinderella opened her mouth to scream-
She awoke with a gasp and a shudder, her eyes snapping open to the darkness of her bedroom, her senses returning to the feel of Eugene's arms around her waist.
"Another nightmare?" he asked, a voice emerging out of the dark. Cinderella could feel Eugene's body beneath her, the hair on his chest, even his erection against her leg, but she couldn't see his face. It was too dark for that.
Cinderella turned her head and rested her cheek upon his chest. "Yes," she whispered. "It's the same one again. Did I wake you? I'm so sorry."
"You wouldn't have to apologise even if you did," Eugene said. "But you didn't."
Though it was not done for them to sleep together during pregnancy that was no reason why they could not sleep together, sharing a bed for as long as Cinderella's condition allowed (and as long as Eugene could bear the sight of her as body swelled up). Cinderella didn't know what she would have done without him, these past few days especially; if she'd been forced to lie alone in this vast bed with only her nightmares and her worries to keep her company...the feel of his chest beneath her, the feel of his arms around her, calmed her, and she felt her fears ebbing away somewhat as she lay upon him.
"Well?" she said, after a little while had passed in silence between them with the only sound their breathing - and Oscar's snoring, like a saw across wood, from the next room; Oscar and Penny didn't sleep in the bedroom when Eugene was there, it would have felt indecent.
"What?" Eugene asked.
"What's bothering you," Cinderella asked softly. "We're both awake, after all."
"Yes, we are," Eugene said, and Cinderella felt his lips upon her forehead. "But you should be resting."
"So should you, at this time of night."
"I don't have to sleep for two."
"No," Cinderella murmured. "You have to sleep for the prince of the nation."
Eugene snorted, as he began to run his finger up and down Cinderella's spine. "I'm worried, about Father."
Cinderella shifted on Eugene's body as though he were a pillow or a mattress on which she could get more comfortable. "About him meeting with Vanessa."
"It's been three days now, tomorrow will be the fourth," Eugene said. "Or perhaps today will be the fourth, depending on what time it is. Three days riding out alone with a wild bear on the loose, for God's sake!"
The men who had set out to hunt the kill the bear had not found it; they had lost its tracks in the forest, although they had recovered Jean's sword, fallen from the beast apparently. It now rested in his room, in the hope that he would be fit to grasp it once again someday. In the meantime, a reward had been posted for the bear's pelt in every nearby village, but so far no one had attempted to claim it. According to learned men it was a hundred years since last a wild bear was seen in Armorique; the best anyone could guess was that it had escaped from a circus or a bear-baiting show; that would explain why it had been so violent.
The thought of the bear that haunted her nightmares and had cast Jean into a limbo between life and death falling upon the aged King, alone and beyond help, made Cinderella shiver. "Have you asked him to take some guards with him."
"He just laughs," Eugene said. "And says that he does not wish to be disturbed while he's calling upon Mademoiselle Vanessa."
"I can understand, but all the same," Cinderella murmured. "Would you like me to talk to him? If I ask him to be careful, he might agree for my sake. Your father has always been very kind to me, and considerate."
"You can try, and more praise to you if you succeed," Eugene said. "I...I just don't understand it."
"I can," Cinderella said softly. "I don't particularly like being followed around by guards myself."
"Not that," Eugene said quickly. "I don't understand why he goes out there in the first place. Riding out, neglecting his duties and all for what? To meet with some shepherdess?"
"A shepherdess who saved my life," Cinderella reminded him. "Who saved Philippe's life, and Jean's life too if it comes to it."
"I know, and I'm not ungrateful," Eugene said. "But she's been thanked and rewarded, why does Father need to see her again? What does he do out there, what can she possibly offer him?"
"Eugene," Cinderella's tone held a hint of mild reproach. "You're in danger of sounding like a snob."
Eugene was silent a moment. "You support what he's doing?"
"I don't know what it is His Majesty is doing," Cinderella said. "He might just be talking to her. He might enjoy her conversation. Is it really so much worse than the prince marrying a servant girl?"
"That's completely different."
"How?" Cinderella asked pointedly.
Eugene kissed her forehead again. "You are a rare treasure, the fairest rose and brightest pearl in Armorique. You are the realm's delight, and there's not another like you to be found."
"You're very sweet," Cinderella murmured. "But you didn't know any of that when we became engaged. Or even when we were married. Whether they are friends, or whether...whether there is something more there, perhaps Mademoiselle Vanessa will astonish us all. We won't know unless we give her a chance, and considering where I came from...I can't not give her a chance."
The King came down to breakfast the next morning - or maybe it was that morning, but either way - in a fine mood, with a spring in his step and a twinkle in his eye. He hummed to himself as he practically bounded into the dining room with a smile playing upon his features. He kissed Cinderella on the cheek as he bid her good morning, patted Eugene on the shoulder as he greeted him in the same jovial manner, and he laughed for joy as he took his seat at the head of the table.
In any other circumstances Cinderella would have been delighted to see His Majesty so happy, for he had always been kind and considerate towards her, and patient with her foibles and her unfamiliarity with royal life. She remembered how well he had taken it when he had recovered from his stroke and learned of all that she had done during his infirmity. Truly, His Majesty deserved happiness, and even now Cinderella couldn't suppress a slight smile at seeing him this way. It was just...it was now four days since the incident, and Cinderella understood that life must go on, but that didn't stop it seeming slightly inappropriate, maybe even a little indecent, for His Majesty to be so happy when one of His Majesty's brave servants was fighting for his life.
"Good morning, good morning," he said, as he began to pull food off the nearest platters and onto his plate. "And what a fine morning it is. How are you, Cinderella, on this fine day?"
"I feel well, thank you, Your Majesty," Cinderella said, as she too began to serve herself. "My new diet has been very beneficial, it seems."
"Excellent, excellent," the King said. "A healthy mother brings forth a healthy child, as they say." He chuckled, before he favoured her with a slightly apologetic smile. "Not that we'd want anything to happen to you regardless, my dear."
"I understand, your majesty."
Eugene cleared his throat. "Father, do you ride out again today to call upon Mademoiselle Vanessa."
"I do," His Majesty declared. He sighed. "I find her conversation more enlightening and congenial than all the bores of court."
"You ride alone?"
"As I have done, yes," the King said, sounding a little impatient now. "Do you expect me to change my habit for no reason?"
"I think what Eugene is trying to say, your majesty," Cinderella said. "Is that we're...worried might not be the right but we're certainly concerned about you. Your Majesty isn't a young man any more and, well, it's dangerous out there. If it wasn't then we would never have even met Vanessa." Cinderella reached out towards the King with one pale hand. "Please, your majesty, for my sake, please be careful; if something were to happen to you I'd be so upset, and I so want my child to know the one grandparent they have left."
The King reached out to her, and took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze such as Eugene was want to do whenever Cinderella seemed nervous about something. "My dear, I would not frighten you nor worry you unduly for all the wealth of the Caribbean. But I assure you that I am perfectly safe, for Vanessa has assured me of it and I know that she would never lie to me. There is nothing to fear, and nothing to worry about. And there is certainly no need to have a score of Horse Grenadiers eavesdropping upon our conversation."
"Very well, your majesty," Cinderella murmured. "You know best, I'm sure." She glanced at Eugene, looking slightly apologetic, but he didn't look displeased. Perhaps he hadn't expected anything more from her in this. Nor did he make any mention of the idea that his father should not be visiting Vanessa at all, either because he had taken Cinderella's words to heart or he simply didn't want to row with his father about it.
Instead, it was His Majesty the King who spoke again after several mouthfuls had passed down his throat. "Eugene, my boy, as I will be with Mademoiselle Vanessa all afternoon I must ask you to chair the meeting of the Privy Council upon my behalf. It starts at half-past two, you've already been looking at most of the issues, everything you need to know is in the red box."
Eugene's eyebrows rose. "Chair the...Father, I'm not entirely sure that's proper. In your absence I have no right to take the chair."
"You're on the council," the King replied. "And you're my son and heir, so you'll have to start doing this at some point. Just tell them it's my wish that you sit in for me and I'm sure Sieur Robert will understand."
"Of course, Father, and believe me I'm not blind to what an honour this is...or to what a display of your trust it is too," Eugene said. "But the fact is that is still your responsibility, and I've never known you to shirk your duty before."
"Duty, pah!" the King cried. "Duty is for the young, Eugene; responsibility is a thing for a man of your age to labour under. At my age one should make time to smell the roses."
Eugene bowed his head. "Of course, Father. I'll do my best in your absence."
"Excellent, knew that I could count on you," His Majesty said, and he began to hum again in between taking bites of sausage and toast.
The King was the first to get up from the dining table, leaving the room in as contented a manner as he had entered it, leaving Cinderella and Eugene alone with the rapidly cooling remains of breakfast.
Eugene took a sip from his cup of coffee. The smell was making Cinderella envious of that which was now denied to her, and though she tried to ignore it such scents seemed stronger to her now than they had been before.
Eugene put down the coffee cup. "I really have never known him to miss a council meeting except when he was too ill to attend."
Cinderella gave half a nod of her head. "When you went away, when I offered to help him he refused, he said it was something he had to do himself; it wasn't until...you know. But maybe it changed him, made him realise that he was working too hard. He's already been giving you more to do, why not this."
"Something has changed him but in this case I doubt it's the stroke," Eugene muttered.
"Even if it is...whatever it is that he feels towards Vanessa, would that be so terrible?" Cinderella asked. "Do you not want to do this badly."
"This isn't about the council meeting," Eugene insisted. "This is about...but this isn't like him, and it bothers me. Doesn't it bother you?"
"I don't know His Majesty as well as you do," Cinderella replied. "And I'm just glad to see that he's happy, even if it is at a time like this."
"At a time like this indeed, he hasn't mentioned young Taurillion once since that day," Eugene said. He drummed his fingers on the table. "Still, I suppose that there's nothing I can do about it, although if it continues...I should probably focus on things closer to hand. Will you attend the council meeting with me?"
"Really?"
Eugene nodded. "Unlike me, you've actually chaired it before. Of the two of us you're actually more experienced in this area." He reached for her across the table, placing his hand on top of hers. "And you have good ideas, ideas that should be heard. I need your help."
"But am I allowed, I mean I'm not the Princess Regent any more and I'm not-"
"Perhaps not, but we can take care of that quite easily," Eugene said.
"Will your father-"
"If Father didn't want me to do things my way he should have chaired the meeting himself instead of gallivanting off," Eugene declared. "But, if you don't want to, I'll understand. I'm not trying to force you to do anything."
"No, it isn't that at all," Cinderella said quickly, before he got the wrong idea. "I...it's just that I wasn't sure that..." She trailed off, and for a moment as she looked into Eugene's eyes Cinderella was rendered speechless. Whoever would have thought, when Eugene had chosen her for looks alone to be his wife, when he had kept her ignorant and shunted aside from all royal business, when he had kept secrets from her and grown angry at her for prying; who would have thought that the day would come when he would invite her to sit beside him on the Privy Council and lend her voices to the deliberations of the country because he valued her ideas and needed her help. It took her breath away.
Does Eugene realise that he's just given me a gift more precious than a thousand diamond bracelets? Cinderella wondered.
"I'd love to," she whispered.
"I hoped you would," Eugene said. He started to get up from his chair. "Will you join me in the study, I want to go over everything so that we're well prepared for whatever might come at us."
"I'll join you in just a little while," Cinderella said. "I need to go to the chapel first."
"Of course," Eugene said. "I'll be waiting."
Every morning, after breakfast, Cinderella prayed for Jean's recovery in the palace chapel. Angelique, on the other hand, thought that God might be nearer to the grand Cathedral of St Benedict in the centre of the city, and so each morning she took a royal coach and spent a couple of hours there.
Almost all of the rest of her time was spent at Jean's bedside. Cinderella didn't begrudge her that, how could she?
As for Jean, he had become feverish, and Cinderella wasn't allowed into the room for the baby's sake if nothing else. When she mustered the courage to ask Angelique how he was doing, she would say that he seemed neither better nor worse. Cinderella wondered how long that could go on for.
So Cinderella's steps carried her to the little chapel in the east wing of the palace, and knelt near the back though there was no one else there but her and the King's chaplain lighting candles near the altar. Cinderella bowed her head, and clasped her hands together, and prayed for the life of her friend.
After her prayers, and whatever good they might be doing Jean, Cinderella joined Eugene in the study where he preferred to work, with the table set before the window with a lavish view of the garden beyond. Eugene stood up when she came in and pulled out a chair for her, pushing it back in when she was seated.
As she smoothed out her skirt with both hands, Cinderella looked at the great mass of official documents spilling out of the red box and all over the table. "Goodness, there's so much here," she said.
"Mm, and I thought Father had been giving us a lot to work with," Eugene said. "I'm afraid we have a lot of work to do before the meeting."
"Well, I'm sorry if I kept you waiting," Cinderella said. "But I'm here now, so why don't we get started?"
Eugene picked up a couple of sheets of paper. "The first item on the agenda is this issue with the Hispaniola landowners again. Sieur Robert is worried that if we don't come up with an idea the Assembly is going to start making its own suggestions."
"But only the King can propose laws."
"True, but if we don't have any ideas of our own on the subject it won't look too good if we ignore the ideas that the Representatives have in favour of less-than-masterful inactivity," Eugene said. "And Sieur Robert doesn't think he'll be able to hold them back."
Cinderella pursed her lips together. She was aware that she had probably made life much more difficult for Armorique's Premier than it would have been otherwise; in her determination to repeal the duties on grain she had forced him to do something which a great part of his own party were against, and which he had only accomplished with the support of the opposition. She didn't regret what she had done - she had done what she thought was right at the time, and she still thought that it was right now - but she was sorry for the trouble that it had caused him.
Although I hope I'm not the only one who feels a little sorry. Sieur Robert wouldn't be in this position if Lord Roux, after hemming and hawing for some weeks, had not declined to form a government and carry the business.
"I see," Cinderella murmured. "So what are we going to do? Or...I don't know, what should we do?"
Eugene dropped the papers onto the desk. "That is the question, isn't it? What to do."
"You don't sound as though you have a plan."
"Am I that obvious?" Eugene asked. He sighed. "Normandie won't pay, and they don't want us to pay either. Neither, come to that, do a great many of our own people, while an equally great number do."
Cinderella put her hands on the desk, one resting upon the other. "What do you want to do?"
Eugene looked at her. "Does that matter? Politics isn't about getting what we want?"
"Perhaps not," Cinderella said. "But I don't see why it shouldn't be a part of it, as long as what we want isn't simply selfish, or cruel to others." Cinderella furrowed her brow. "It feels wrong, to me, to force these people to stay when they don't want to, under a king that they don't want, part of a country they don't want to be a part of. It doesn't seem right."
Eugene made a noise that was somewhere between a snort and a laugh.
Cinderella looked up at him. "What's so funny?"
"I'm afraid you just described the justification of our lately rebellious colonists, darling," Eugene observed.
Cinderella looked down at her hands. "Yes, well...if you weren't my husband I...I probably would have been on their side."
Eugene tilted her chin up so that she was looking at him once more. "I thought as much," he said. "Which is why I offered lenient terms that tried to somewhat redress their grievances. Because I thought it was what you would approve of." He took his fingers away from her chin. "Not that that helps us here, of course there's nothing to prevent them from leaving, they'll just leave deprived of their illiquid assets."
"And they can't sell them, can they?" Cinderella asked. She had read up to try and understand why that was. "Because everyone knows that they have to sell, and so no one will offer a fair price."
"Precisely," Eugene said. "Hence the demands for compensation."
Cinderella nodded. "What if...what if they didn't have to leave right away?"
"How do you mean?"
"Well, at the moment when the Normans take over the island, then everyone who's still there becomes Norman," Cinderella said. "But what if they didn't; or, what if they could come to Armorique afterwards, if they found they really didn't like Norman rule. Wouldn't that make it easier for them to sell their land at the right price? People wouldn't be able to wait for the price to drop."
"A right of return," Eugene mused. "That...yes, that might work. We'd need to consult the Normans on it and get their agreement; unfortunately they might well demand some sort of time limit, which only shunts the problem down the road. But as an idea it definitely has merit. You should tell the council about it this afternoon, it might be enough to keep them quiet on the subject for a little longer."
"Me?" Cinderella asked. "You want me to talk about this?"
"If you're going to sit on the council there's no sense in me taking credit for all of your ideas," Eugene said with a smile which swiftly faded, probably due to what he saw on Cinderella's face. "Is something wrong, my dear?"
Cinderella ran one finger across the wooden surface of the desk, feeling the rising and falling contours underneath her fingertip. She looked down for a moment, and even when she looked back up again she could not quite meet Eugene's eyes. "I'm flattered that you want me to join the council, really I am; that you trust me, value me like this...I don't think I can tell you how much it means to me. And I want to join, I want to help as much as I can, but...the councillors, they don't like me very much." Relations during Cinderella's regency had never been entirely cordial, and had cooled rapidly as said regency wore on as Cinderella's determination to go her own way, and Serena's smear campaign against her reputation, had both taken their toll. Matters had probably reached their nadir when one of the councillors had accused Cinderella of sleeping her way through the palace to her face, and Cinderella had responded by throwing them all out of the palace. Cinderella hadn't met them since, and the more she thought about it the less the reunion seemed like something to look forward to.
Eugene, on the other hand, seemed unfazed by her concerns. "I don't care," he said. "You're my wife, you're my princess and you're the best woman I know, and I don't see any reason to pretend otherwise."
"But they might reject things that I say just because I said them," Cinderella said.
"I'd hope that our Privy Councillors could behave better than petulant children," Eugene said. "I have to say I'm a little surprised. You seem to have gotten so much better at ignoring the opinions of others, not letting it grind you down."
Cinderella shook her head. "There's a difference between realising that you're not going to cast me out of your life because I haven't worn my hair in the style you like best, or learning to ignore some old duchess when she sneers at the kind of dress I like, and being afraid that people will ignore my policies just because they're mine."
"They won't," Eugene insisted. "We won't let them. Cinderella, we can't pander to people who'd rather believe old lies from a defunct newspaper than see what a wonder you are. Or if we can...we shouldn't." He stroked her cheek with his fingertips. "You've spent so long trapped in the dark, don't you want to step out and be heard?"
"Yes," Cinderella whispered. "But more than that I want what's best for everyone."
"What about what's best for you?" Eugene asked. He frowned, and took his hand away. "Having said that I've just remembered that what is best for you is you making up your own mind, not being forced into things by me. As I said before, I'm not going to force you into things that you don't like. You must do what you think is best."
Cinderella leaned back in her chair. What I think is best. What was that? What did she think was best? That was not the same question as what she wanted, which was to speak and to be listened to with politeness, if nothing else. But was that the best thing? What if good ideas were cast aside simply because they fell from her lips? What if her voice poisoned promising notions? What if the animus against her were so great as to overcome every other consideration?
Did she want to become such a millstone? No. But then...what was she doing here? What was she doing talking about weighty matters with Eugene, and proposing ideas? If she really thought that it was for the best that no one learned that any idea had come from her, then the only thing to do would be to have no ideas for fear that any idea she did have would be traced back to her with every negative consequence she could imagine. She should leave this room at once and hide herself away in her room and devote herself thereafter to inconsequential chatter with her ladies-in-waiting.
And Cinderella found she was not willing to do that.
"I'll speak," Cinderella said. "I'll speak and I won't...I mean, I'll try not to be ashamed of myself."
Eugene nodded. "I'll be right beside you when you do."
"I know," Cinderella said softly. "Do you think...if I left at once I should have time to speak to Frederica about this, shouldn't I?"
"Perhaps," Eugene allowed. "But then I'd be without your help going through all the rest of this. Speak to her tomorrow."
"Alright," Cinderella said. "What's next?"
"Something I doubt you'll like too much," Eugene admitted, picking up some more papers. "It's the squeeze on Outdoor Relief that you rejected during your regency."
"I see," Cinderella said, softly but with unmistakable disapproval in her voice. "I suppose they were hoping His Majesty would be the one to look at it this time."
"This time it comes accompanied by a whole battery of economic arguments about expenditure and income," Eugene observed. "And..."
Cinderella waited for him to continue, and when he did not she prompted him. "And what?"
Eugene looked apologetic. "I find it hard to see what you find so objectionable about the workhouse. It seems like a perfectly reasonable proposal to me."
"If Angelique were not pre-occupied with Jean I'd ask her to join us so that she could tell you all about the workhouse and what a horrible place it is," Cinderella said. "But since it is, please take my word for it Eugene that no one should be forced to live like that."
"I've been to a workhouse," Eugene said. "I was shown around the one in this city a few years ago. It looks dismal I'll admit, but it's not bad. Far from it, really. The residents all had clean clothes to wear; and they had roast pork for dinner with plum pudding for afters. I saw them tucking into it. There are working families who don't eat so well."
Cinderella sighed. "When I was a girl," she said. "When I was ten until...I think I was fourteen or maybe fifteen when my stepmother stopped caring...when I was a girl my stepmother kept a very special dress in her wardrobe. It was my dress, my only dress, it was almost a magical dress to me. It was blue, and ever so lovely, with bows on the side and lace petticoats and pouffy sleeves; and when I wore that dress I got to wear a blue ribbon in my hair that my father had gotten for me, with little bells on that rang as I walked, and rang even more merrily as I skipped. And whenever my stepmother had guests home for dinner, or even for tea, then I would get to wear my magical dress and the bells in my hair, and I'd get to eat at the dining table with my family and join everyone in the sitting room and play; and then as soon as the guests were gone I had to take my dress straight off again."
"Because your stepmother didn't want anyone to know how she was really treating you," Eugene murmured.
Cinderella nodded wordlessly. The charades had stopped when she was...she was almost sure now it had been when she was fifteen, although it could have been fourteen. When she was old enough, or looked old enough that no one would question that she was the maid or find it odd that she was dressed in rags and waiting on the others. Had any of Lady Tremaine's friends ever wondered what had become of her stepdaughter? Had any of them cared? Perhaps they thought she was dead, and didn't notice that the new maid shared a name and features with the deceased girl. Perhaps they realy just didn't care.
"I understand what you're suggesting," Eugene said. "And I don't wish to accuse Angelique of lying, but...my instinct would be to give this my support."
"Why?" Cinderella demanded. "A lot of the poor people who'll be affected by this will be your soldiers, men who fought with you in America and were wounded badly. And others...just people who'd had some terrible luck. They don't deserve to be put in prison for that."
"No, they don't," Eugene said. "Nor do they deserve to be sleeping rough in the parks and streets of Armorique's cities. Angelique may have preferred a life of hand-to-mouth vagrancy over the workhouse but that doesn't mean that everyone feels the same way. At least in the workhouse they have a roof over their head and meals guaranteed, even if it isn't roast pork and plum pudding."
"And if someone had said that to me before we might not be here now," Cinderella said. "But they didn't, they only wanted to talk about money, and that makes me doubt that any good is meant for the poor."
"Maybe none is meant," Eugene replied. "But that doesn't mean that none is done. And...the fact of the matter is we do have to think about the cost, even if you'd rather not. We can't afford to build a house for every citizen, and I'm not even sure we should."
Cinderella frowned. "I...perhaps you're right, perhaps they're all right and I'm wrong, but I'm not sure; and because I'm not sure...does this have to be decided now? People...they trust me. They came to the palace to help me when I needed help most and it seemed like I had no one to turn to. They saved me from Serena and Grace. I can't betray that, or them. Not until I'm sure that it's the right thing to do."
Eugene looked at her for a moment. "You realise that, even if I throw this out and say that the time is not yet right, the next time Father decides to actually chair a session this will go back to him and he'll probably put his name to it."
"Then I suppose I'll have to work quickly to find out the truth, and persuade him of it," Cinderella said. "And you, too, for that matter."
Cinderella and Eugene did not agree on absolutely everything, but as they worked together through the contents of the red box they were able to come to some sort of position on almost everything, even if that position was to put it to one side like the contentious cuts on Outdoor Relief. They never quarrelled, but neither of them was afraid to say what they really thought, a fact that - when they stopped for lunch just before one o'clock - somewhat amazed Cinderella when she stopped to think about it.
"What's that look on your face?" Eugene asked. "You looked a little dazed, are you feeling alright?"
"Yes, I'm fine," Cinderella said quickly. "I'm just...I was thinking of how only a few months ago I would have been terrified of saying things like that to you, for fear of what you'd do if I upset you, or didn't play the perfect wife that you wanted."
"You are the perfect wife I want," Eugene said. "I just didn't realise it at first."
Cinderella bowed her head before she started to blush. "You know what I mean."
"Yes, I do," Eugene agreed. "You've blossomed."
"Only because you gave me room to grow," Cinderella said. "Thank you."
During lunch, the discussion moved away from public policy and onto other more casual matters. Eugene suggested a play that Cinderella might enjoy, and they talked about when they might go and see it. Cinderella attempted to persuade Eugene of the merits of Mysteries of Udolpho, a charming read that Augustina had recommended to her and Cinderella had just begun to read.
And then, with lunch over and little less than an hour until the council session, Cinderella went to her room to change and, while there, shared with her ladies-in-waiting some of her misgivings about the cuts to the Outdoor Relief.
"I honestly don't think it matters, your highness," said Christine calmly. "Sieur Robert's government will be out of office before the first of April, and this law will be unlikely to even begin its journey through the Assembly."
Augustina, sitting on Cinderella's bed while Duchamp helped Cinderella herself get dressed, folded her arms. "You seem remarkably sure of that. The Corn Laws may have wounded the government but it has staggered on thus far, and with victory in the American War-"
"Victory in the American War hasn't stopped the brute vote from feeling any less betrayed by their leader, Mademoiselle de Bois," Christine declared. "And Sieur Robert is a fool if he thinks that they will either forget or forgive. If he wished to preserve the government he would have resigned as soon as he had carried repeal and made way for another man to heal the wounds in the party. But, since he will not go, he will be forced out and those he has offended most will have their revenge."
"Don't you think your being a little melodramatic?" Augustina asked.
"I might suggest that you, Mademoiselle, are attributing your own generosity of spirit to others," Christine said. "You have forgiven the princess, or forgotten the offence I know not which, but not all are so kind." Christine glanced at Cinderella. "Or else Sieur Robert does not inspire the same affection that her highness does."
"What makes you think the government is going to fall, Lady Christine?" Cinderella asked, looking over her shoulder to see Christine where she stood as still as an alabaster statue near the sitting room door.
"My uncle tells me he can still feel their anger in the chamber," Christine replied. "It will have release, he says; and, although for the moment the opposition has voted with the government in several issues in the public interest, the moment the opportunity to defeat the government on an issue that will not play poorly for them in the press arises they will take it, and that will be that."
"And then your uncle will become Premier," Augustina observed.
Christine's face was expressionless. "Yes. Obviously."
"Well, I don't see why you even want to bother with all of this," Drizella declared. "It sounds awfully dull to me."
"Her highness is a great friend to the common people," Marinette said. "They support her-"
"Oh, well why didn't you tell you were doing it to be admired, Cinderella?"
"That wasn't quite what I meant," Marinette murmured.
"I get involved because it's the right thing to do, Drizella," Cinderella explained. "I have so much now, so many wonderful things…how could I justify that if I didn't help those who had less than I do?"
"Noblesse oblige," Augustina said. "You've just perfectly encapsulated why you're natural home is with our traditionalist party and not with the coalition of chaos over there." She waved one hand dismissively in Christine's direction.
Christine stuck her nose in the air. "It seems to me that her highness' would be better served by a party which thinks about the problems facing the nation and how they can be solved than by a brute vote of country squires who know nothing but the prayer-book and the price of grain."
"I would rather have a ruddy-faced squire who knows his God and his land and loves them both," Augustina declared proudly. "Than an over-proud cloth-merchant who knows only his profit ledger or a pinch-cheeked school-master with a head full of every fact and nothing at all in his heart."
"Ladies, please don't fight," Cinderella said. "I'm sure that you both want the best for Armorique, and for me."
"Of course, your highness, we are your loyal servants," Christine said.
Cinderella finished getting ready, and made her way downstairs. She met Angelique coming the other way.
"How's Jean?" Cinderella asked.
"No better and no worse, as far as I can tell," Angelique replied. She frowned. "I hear that Prince Eugene is going to put you on the Privy Council. Congratulations. Really. You deserve it."
"Thank you," Cinderella said. "I…I just wish that there was something that I could do for you."
"There is," Angelique said. "Win. Help those who need it most, and show everyone who ever doubted it just how great you are. Change the world. Justify Jean's faith in you. Justify his…sacrifice."
Cinderella tightened her grip on the banister. "I will, I give you my word…or at least I'll try my hardest, I guarantee it."
"That's all I can ask," Angelique said. A smile briefly crossed her face. "Although, of course you would have done that anyway, wouldn't you?"
"I'd like to think so," Cinderella replied.
Cinderella made her way to the council chamber, where Eugene was waiting for her outside.
"Everyone's waiting for us," he said. He held out one hand to her. "Are you ready?"
Cinderella was a little nervous, in truth, but she placed her fingers gently into his open palm and said, "Yes."
His hand closed around hers as he nodded, and the servant at the door flung it open.
They walked into the room together, hand in hand. The councillors – Cinderella noticed that Sieur Robert looked a little more worn and ashen-faced than when she had seen him last, which suggested there might be some truth in what Christine said – rose to their feet for them even as they looked surprised to see either of them, let alone both.
"Your Highness," Sieur Robert said evenly as the prince and princess walked towards the long table. "Both your highnesses, in fact; what an unexpected surprise to see you, Princess Cinderella. Is His Majesty delayed?"
"The King is indisposed," Eugene said, letting go of Cinderella's hand as he pulled out a chair for her. "He has asked me to chair this session in his stead."
"Is His Majesty ill?"
"He is indisposed," Eugene repeated carefully.
Sieur Robert frowned. Cinderella wondered how much, if anything, he knew about Vanessa and the King's daily rides out to meet with her; whatever he knew, he kept it to himself and said nothing on the matter. Instead, his glance turned towards Cinderella. "And…your highness, to what do we owe the pleasure?"
"I'm glad you asked," Eugene said, as he took his seat; everyone else – Cinderella included – who had been standing out of respect for him did likewise. "The first order of business, if you will permit us to set all else back for a moment, is that I would like to nominate my wife, Princess Cinderella, to the Privy Council."
Silence reigned amongst the councillors for a moment, amongst all the lords and ministers in their frock coats of melancholy black and sombre grey.
Sieur Robert leaned forwards and cleared his throat. "Your Highness, that is…somewhat irregular."
"Perhaps, but I happen to believe it is an excellent idea," Eugene said. "After all, her highness, has already chaired this council to some success, served as regent of the country and she has a great many ideas of great value to Armorique. I see no reason she should not be able to express those ideas here."
Sieur Robert was silent a moment, and the whole rest of the council was silent with him. And then he seemed to almost smirk, and said, "Your highness is quite right, of course; princess, you did an excellent job at governing this country in the infirmity of His Majesty and the absence of your husband. Your interventions into the political world were…seismic. I have no doubt that any future Premier who might follow in my footsteps will never want for good and moral advice from you. I welcome this excellent notion from his highness."
"Are there any objections?" Eugene asked, glaring down the table in such a way as to suggest that there had better not be any objections.
Under his gaze there was some shuffling around, and a few sceptical or hostile looks sent Cinderella's way which she did her best to ignore, but no one gave voice to any issues with her presence.
"All in favour, say aye," Eugene said, and most of the table chorused 'aye' even if some didn't sound too enthusiastic about it. No one voice for nay, although a few abstained.
"Carried," Eugene declared. "Welcome to the Privy Council, Princess Cinderella."
Cinderella nodded. "Thank you all. I promise to do my best for Armorique, always."
"Excellent," Eugene said. "Now, let's begin."