Respectable

"Cinderella?"

"Mmm?" Cinderella murmured drowsily. It was night, and she was lying next to Eugene in her bed, snuggled up beside him with one hand resting on his shoulder and the other resting upon his chest. Eugene pressed against her was so warm, and the pillow was so soft beneath her face, that even Eugene calling to her struggled against the relentless tug of sleep on Cinderella.

"Please be careful," Eugene said, slipping an arm round Cinderella.

"Careful," Cinderella repeated. "What do I need to be careful of? Your here."

Eugene chuckled. "Cinderella, I'm being serious."

Something about his tone was sufficient to rouse Cinderella, or at least it roused her enough to realise that he was trying to rouse her. Cinderella opened her eyes - for as much as she could see between the darkness and the heavy curtains that blocked all light from the gallic windows - and pushed herself up just a little, raising her head off the invitingly soft pillow. "What are you talking about, darling? What's wrong?" She had a feeling that she already knew the answer.

"Vanessa," Eugene said, proving Cinderella right. "You need to be careful."

Cinderella pursed her lips together, as much as she knew when she thought about it that Eugene couldn't see her do so any more than she could really see him. It didn't help to think so, of course. Some things she just couldn't help. "I know that you don't like this, Eugene, and I even understand why you don't like her. But that doesn't mean she's dangerous."

"I wish I could be so sure," Eugene said. "You weren't there when I came across them together."

Cinderella hesitated for a moment. "You...came across them?"

"I didn't see anything, thank God," Eugene whispered. "But...I admit, I shouldn't have burst into the hut like that, although I would defend myself by pointing out that I was desperate for information about my father. But when I went in, Father was asleep after...after, and she was just sitting there, naked."

"Completely naked."

"Absolutely naked."

Cinderella's first, rather absurd thought was to think that must have been very cold in weather like that. She would not always - or even particularly often - rush to put on a night-gown after she and Eugene were finished lovemaking, often she would lie naked in bed beside him, enjoying the feel of his body against hers, his hands upon her disrobed skin; but she had a silk blanket and a warm quilt between her and the cool night air, she wouldn't have dreamed of sitting around like that.

Somehow Cinderella doubted that was the kind of response Eugene was looking for. "Well," she said. "She probably wasn't expecting visitors."

"No," Eugene allowed. "But she didn't make even the slightest effort to cover herself. She asked me to sit down while she just sat there, showing me everything even after I asked her to cover up. And she..."

"Eugene?"

"The way she talked," Eugene said. "It was as though she was trying to proposition me. I refused, and after I did she tried to pass it off as a joke. Maybe it was a joke, but that sort of thing...it's not how normal people behave; it worries me."

"That...that is a little strange," Cinderella murmured, after a moment's hesitation in which she tried and failed to find any explanation that was even remotely convincing for why Vanessa might behave in such a way. Or at least, she failed to find an innocent explanation. Explanations like 'Vanessa really wanted to sleep with Eugene, and then tried to pass it off as a joke when he rebuffed her' explained everything, even if for His Majesty's sake Cinderella didn't want to think that the other woman was like that. Her voice was quiet. "Do you believe she wanted to seduce you?"

"I don't know what would bother me more," Eugene said. "That she did, or that she didn't. If she did then she's playing my father for a fool; and if she didn't...if it was all a joke to her then she is a very strange woman, and I'm worried about what she'll do next."

"Did you tell your father about this?"

"When?" Eugene asked. "I couldn't bring it up while she was there. I'd rather not bring it up where anyone could overhear, or why would we be whispering about this in the middle of the night?"

Cinderella could understand that. If anyone overheard Eugene telling her this then it would probably be all over the palace within a day or so, and beyond in a day after that, to the great embarrassment of everyone concerned. "Are you going to tell the King?"

"I don't know whether I should or not."

"Why don't you let me talk to Vanessa first, and see what she has to say?"

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Eugene said. "If she is strange then she might...you can't predict what she'll do."

"You can't think she'd hurt me. She saved my life, and she's never seemed erratic to me," Cinderella said. "I know it sounds unusual, but that doesn't make her mad or dangerous."

"There are other kinds of danger than just the physical," Eugene said. "I'm not sure how much of a good idea it is for you to associate with her. People are going to talk."

"People always talk," Cinderella said. "Mostly they seem to talk about what an awful person I am, and how I don't deserve to be a princess."

Eugene sighed, even as gave her waist a gentle squeeze of comfort. "I understand that you've got used to doing whatever you want because you feel you don't have anything to lose, and when it comes to some parts of the court that might even be true - although I think it's less so than it used to be; but the truth is that you've been able to get away with snubbing your nose at the court because the people have been stoutly on your side."

"I know that," Cinderella said. "I was there when they rescued me from Serena and Grace; I know how much I owe them."

"You can't lose them," Eugene said emphatically. "If you do then you'll have no one. No one but me and a few friends, and that is not enough."

"I don't understand."

"The nobility invented decadent behaviour," Eugene said. "And mistresses, come to that. Standards now aren't what they were - there's a reason I had to use Etienne to cover for me during my relationship with Katherine - but there's a little leeway allowed every now and then. But no one is more ardent for bourgeois morality than the bourgeoisie themselves, at least in public where it matters. What Father is about to do, what he's already done...it will be anathema to them, and the working class will take their lead from the middle.

"They didn't care when I was accused of sleeping with Lucien and Jean and half the palace besides," Cinderella pointed out.

"The important word there being accused, I'm afraid," Eugene said. "They didn't believe the accusations, either because they genuinely didn't think you capable of that or it suited them not to believe it. But this...if you're seen, undeniably seen, as being involved in this then it doesn't matter how much help you've been to them or how much your politics aligns with theirs, they'll drop you. I don't want that. I'm afraid I...I'm afraid you couldn't be protected if you let yourself become so isolated."

Cinderella frowned, but not at the threat to herself. "Eugene...if what you're saying is true then an innocent young woman is about to be vilified by the whole country through no fault of her own."

"Cinderella, haven't you been listening?"

"Of course I have, but how can I turn my back on someone who needs help just to protect my own reputation?" Cinderella asked. "That's what you're asking me to do, isn't it?"

She felt Eugene's hand settle on top of hers. "I know that it won't be easy for you, my love; but it is the right thing to do. You can do so much good for the whole country and all the people living here. Please don't throw it away for the sake of one person to whom you owe nothing."

"I...I'll think about it," Cinderella said, although she shuddered a little just to say so. It grated at her to even consider abandoning someone, someone so very like her, to the tender mercy of the aristocrats and the newspapers and their judgement. But...what if Eugene was right? And she was going to be a mother soon, she had to think about her child, too. And all the other children she could help, or not, depending on what she did and how she conducted herself. Yet however she tried to justify it, it rankled.

"I'd still like to talk to her, tomorrow," Cinderella added. "And I will," she said, to make things perfectly clear.

"To find out what she was doing?"

"I suppose so," Cinderella said. "And to find out what she really feels about His Majesty. But most of all because, if she is going to be dropped into the middle of all this I feel as though I ought to warn her even, or perhaps especially, if I can't help her along the way."

Lucrecia picked at the edges of her poached egg as it began to cool, and in cooling turn completely inedible.

"What's wrong?" Etienne asked.

The sound of his voice caused her to look up, into his hard face now softened with concern.

"It's nothing," she said quickly. "Nothing at all."

"I hope that I'm a better husband than the sort who would believe that denial," Etienne replied. "Clearly there's something troubling you. Isn't there anything I can do to help?"

"Princess Cinderella has asked me to the palace today," Lucrecia said softly.

Etienne's eyebrows rose. "I thought you enjoyed your visits there."

"I do," Lucrecia said. "But I'm afraid...I'm afraid she's going to ask me to clothe His Majesty's new mistress."

"Ah," Etienne said. "And that's a problem."

"What do I do?" Lucrecia asked. "What can I say?"

"That depends," Etienne said. "On how big a problem it really is."

"A problem that could destroy my business," Lucrecia said. "She's...a mistress? In this day and age? What's the King thinking of?"

"I could answer that in a very filthy fashion, but I won't," Etienne replied dryly. "The truth is I don't know what he's thinking. Eugene had the good sense to keep his youthful misadventures quiet before he was ready to settle down. Where His Majesty has...I can't explain it. I don't think anyone can except His Majesty, and he hasn't offered an explanation."

"What do you think Cinderella will do?"

"Something kind, no doubt, however unwise," Etienne said.

Lucrecia nodded. She suspected the same thing, although that didn't make having it confirmed much better. "What do I say to her? How do I explain it without her hating me?"

"That you want nothing to do with this?"

Lucrecia nodded.

Etienne leaned back in his chair. The wood creaked. He placed his hands upon the breakfast. "I...you probably know her highness better than I do. What's your instinct?"

"To be honest and explain everything."

"Then that's probably the best you can do," Etienne said. "If it helps, her highness doesn't seem much given to hatred."

"No, no you're absolutely right about that," Lucrecia said. "And what about you? What does the day bring for you?"

"Oh, you wouldn't be interested in my work," Etienne said.

"Now who's holding back?"

Etienne looked down for a moment. "I stumbled across a body, last night. A woman, dead. I don't know who she is or what happened but it's part of my new job to find out. Now aren't you glad you asked?"

Lucrecia let out a sharp intake of breath. "You let me ramble on about my small troubles while you have a murder to investigate?"

"I don't know for certain that it's murder yet," Etienne said. "And your troubles are anything but small to me."

"Have I told you that I love you?"

"I'm...honestly, not entirely sure."

"Well I do," Lucrecia said. "I honestly and truly do. So where will you even start, with this poor woman?"

"Someone has to know who she is," Etienne said. "Someone has to be looking for her: parents, husband, sweetheart, brother, sister, people don't just disappear without a trace unnoticed."

"They do if they have no one to notice them," Lucrecia said softly.

Etienne was silent for a moment. "Yes. Yes, I suppose that is true." He chewed upon a piece of toast for a moment. "Hopefully that won't be the case here, or...and I need to work out how she died."

"It's not clear?"

"No, not at all." Etienne shook his head. "When do you go to the palace?"

"I'll leave straight away; it's early for my appointment but I can try and see the princess alone. Or at least without...the other woman there."

"Good luck."

Lucrecia nodded. "To both of us."

There was a knock on the bedroom door.

"Who is it?" Cinderella asked, not looking around from the vanity mirror before which she was sat, putting on her earrings.

"Paulette, ma'am."

"Come in, Paulette," Cinderella said, and waited for the chamber-maid to do just that before she asked. "What is it?"

"Madame Gerard is downstairs, ma'am," Paulette said. "Requesting to speak with you."

Cinderella's first thought was to wonder since when Marinette had become a Madame - or, for that matter, when she needed to send Paulette on ahead to ask to speak with Cinderella - before she realised that Paulette was talking about Lucrecia. "Really?" she said, with a glance at the clock. "She's very early, but I don't suppose that matters. Thank you, Paulette, ask her to come right up."

Paulette curtsied. "Of course, ma'am." She left to bear the news to Lucrecia.

"Would you like me to go, ma'am?" Duchamp asked. "We're nearly finished anyway."

"Thank you, Duchamp, but that won't be necessary," Cinderella said. "Or at least, if it is I'm sure Lucrecia will say so."

Lucrecia did not, in fact, ask for privacy. She barely seemed to notice Duchamp at all, in fact when she first came into the bedroom she barely seemed to notice Cinderella. Her eyes were turned downwards, and her hands were clasped in front of her wringing nervously; her steps were slow and leaden-sounding on the floor, tapping heavily on the wood before she stepped onto one of the throw rugs that lay scattered over the floorboards.

The smile that, like a rose touched by the light of the new day, blossomed on Cinderella's face at the sight of her friend was killed by that same friend's demeanour, as though the rose that bloomed had been assailed by a sudden lethal frost. "Lucrecia? What on earth is the matter?" That something was the matter seemed so obvious that Cinderella didn't bother seeking confirmation. She got to her feet. "Is it Etienne? Is there anything I can do?"

"No, your highness, it's not Etienne," said Lucrecia, slowly and softly. "My marriage is perfectly happy."

"Then what is it?"

Lucrecia swallowed visibly. "Your highness...am I right in saying that you summoned me today to commission me on behalf of His Majesty the King's...mistress?"

"Yes, that's right," Cinderella said. "I know that it's a little strange - believe me, everyone thinks so - but Vanessa hasn't anything suitable to wear and you were able to start providing me with dresses so soon after we met...your speed and your talent mean that there really isn't anyone more suitable; and it seemed the obvious thing to do. But I'm afraid you're really very early, Lucrecia, we haven't even had breakfast yet and I wasn't expecting you until-"

"Your highness," Lucrecia said, softly but in such a way as to cut across Cinderella's words. "I thank you for your consideration, and your confidence in me and in my skill...but I am afraid that I must decline."

Cinderella was silent for a moment. "You must...decline?"

"Yes, your highness, I cannot be of service in this matter."

Cinderella's mouth formed an O of surprise, even as her hands rose up towards said mouth in a gesture of astonishment. "I...I don't understand..." Cinderella hesitated, and in that moment of hesitation she began to wonder if that statement was correct. "Unless I do. It's because she's a mistress, isn't it?" It's exactly as Eugene said.

Lucrecia finally looked Cinderella in the eyes. "Your highness, I am a dressmaker for ladies of quality...for the sake of my reputation I dare not become associated with...kept harlots."

"That's rather harsh of you to say, I think," Cinderella said quietly. "Doesn't the kind of person she is count for anything?"

"My judgement of it counts for nothing, your highness," Lucrecia replied. "The fact is...your highness, in my window there is a sign proclaiming that I am your dressmaker. I am proud of that, proud of the gowns that I create for you and proud to say that I possess the royal patronage. But no one will need a sign to know that I am garbing the King's mistress, and if I'm seen to cater to that sort of immorality...I could lose all my other clients. Who will want to share their dressmaker with the King's-?"

"Please don't say it, Lucrecia," Cinderella said. "You've made your point. Will it be so bad?"

"I am afraid it will," Lucrecia said. "Even more than the moral question...fashion creates its own word of mouth. 'What a lovely gown, mademoiselle, from whoever did you get it?' 'Why, from Lucrecia Gerard, the Florentine.' 'Oh my, isn't she the one who clothes the King's mistress?' What lady will want such a conversation? Your highness...my little shop and my business may not seem like much to a princess, but it has been my dream since I was an apprentice, if not before. I cannot lose it." She shut her eyes. "I...if you want to find another dress maker for yourself-"

"And why would I want to do that?" Cinderella asked.

Lucrecia's eyes snapped open. "I...I was afraid that-"

"I understand," Cinderella said. "I understand why you had to say this, and I understand how important your work is to you." She turned away from Lucrecia, resting her fingertips upon her dressing table. "Eugene warned me that people would disapprove of what His Majesty has done. He warned me for my own sake but the truth is that I find it very hard to worry about me. After all, even if everyone in the whole world hated me except Eugene...I'd still be his princess so long as he loved me. All I need is one man to think that I'm special to protect me from many of the consequences of the things I do. I understand that you don't have that luxury, and I'm not going to punish you for doing what you think is best." [i]It might be a little awkward with Vanessa, but I'm sure I can manage somehow. At least I hope I can.[/i]

Lucrecia sagged with relief. "Thank you, your highness; thank you...for taking this so well. And the appointment-"

"Don't worry," Cinderella said. "I'll explain everything. Now, if you wouldn't mind excusing me?"

"Of course not, your highness," Lucrecia said, with a curtsy. "And thank you, once again."

She shut the door behind her. Cinderella listened to the sound of Lucrecia's footsteps upon the stairs for a moment before she flopped back down onto the stool before the dressing table. She sighed. "Even if I should have expected it, that was still rather disappointing."

"Ma'am," Duchamp said evenly.

Cinderella glanced up at her. Her lady's maid was not a friend, exactly, but she always gave Cinderella honest advice and she always told the truth when asked for it directly. That, and her experience in the palace, meant that she was sometimes the only person who could or would tell Cinderella when she was being very foolish. Cinderella didn't always take her advice - to her own cost, as when she had ignored Duchamp's warnings regarding Lucien Gerard - but she always appreciated the other woman's willingness to offer it.

"Is Eugene right, Duchamp?" she asked. "Are they all right? If I were wise would I have nothing to do with Vanessa?"

"As I recall, ma'am, I told you once that you would be judged by the people you associated with," Duchamp said.

"And I didn't listen to you then," Cinderella murmured, grateful that Duchamp hadn't made that point herself. "But at least all those people who judged Lucien did so on the basis of who he was." If I had only done the same, or simply been able to see him for who he really was, how much happier would I have been? "Nobody knows what Vanessa is really like, least of all the people who are judging her."

"It may not be fair, ma'am, but it cannot be helped."

"Can't it?" Cinderella replied. "She saved my life, Duchamp. She saved Philippe. How can I repay that with a cold shoulder?"

"Your gratitude should not indebt you to social ruin, ma'am," Duchamp said.

Cinderella bowed her head. "When His Grace put the slipper on my foot...before I left, my stepmother told me that to survive here I would have to become cold and heartless...like her. I thought I'd managed to prove her wrong until now."

"A single absence of kindness does not make you heartless, ma'am," Duchamp said. "You have more heart than most, and it keeps you to warm to ever be cold, to my mind."

"That's very flattering of you to say, Duchamp," Cinderella said. "But am I still kind if I pick and choose when to be kind? Or am I just showing off to make myself more popular?"

"You whip yourself like an idle horse, ma'am," Duchamp said. "It is uncalled for."

"Perhaps," Cinderella admitted, though that was all she would admit. "What am I going to do?"

Duchamp didn't answer. How could she? This was Cinderella's decision to make.

Cinderella got up, and walked across the bedroom to ring the bell pull that hung down by her bed.

It was Paulette who answered. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Paulette, would you be a dear and go the prince's tower, and tell Prince Eugene that I would like him to come and escort me down to breakfast, if it's not too much trouble," Cinderella said. "I know it's a way, but-"

"It's my job, ma'am, and no trouble at all," Paulette said. "I'll be as quick as I can."

"Thank you, Paulette, I'm very grateful."

Paulette must have been quick, because Cinderella felt as though she had hardly been waiting any time at all when Eugene arrived, dressed in his white uniform, a fond smile playing upon his face. "You requested my presence, my lady."

Cinderella's smile in return was faint, restrained by the concerns that weighed upon her, but present nonetheless. "I did. I'm sorry that I made you come all this way-"

Eugene took her hand and raised it to his lips. "Hush. It was no trouble at all. Now, shall we go?"

"Yes, let's," Cinderella said, as she slipped her hand into the crook of Eugene's arm. "Thank you, Duchamp."

"Ma'am."

Eugene led Cinderella out of the bedroom, and side by side and arm in army they started to descend the stairs.

"I am curious, I confess," Eugene said. "I don't mind this at all, quite the opposite, but you haven't ever asked for me to come to you like this when I haven't."

"I'm afraid I have to talk to you," Cinderella said.

"You don't have to be afraid to talk to me."

Cinderella gave him a look, and a slight shake of her head. "Lucrecia came to see me. She doesn't want anything to do with Vanessa."

"Ah," Eugene murmured. "I see."

"You were right."

"I take no pleasure in it," Eugene said. "What...how did you leave things between you two?"

"Do you mean did we argue about it? No," Cinderella said. "She explained herself, and...I couldn't argue with any of it. Lucrecia has to take care of herself, and she can't afford to be involved in a scandal. But I don't intend to change my dressmaker; not if I can avoid it."

"I see," Eugene said. "I wish that you would show as much sense as Madame Gerard when it comes to avoiding scandal."

"I know, I know," Cinderella sighed. "But the more important question is what is Vanessa going to wear? And how can I tell His Majesty that my dress maker wants nothing to do with his mistress without upsetting him?"

"I'm afraid that might not be possible," Eugene said. "You're very lucky to have been spared the worst of Father's temper so far, but now..."

Cinderella looked up at him. It seemed strange to imagine that His Majesty, who had been so kind and considerate to her, who had treated her with an almost paternal benevolence, might be possessed of a volcanic temper, still less that he migth turn it upon her. Although there was that night, after the second attempt upon her life, when he had demanded the most extreme measures in response, no matter who was hurt by them.

But he meant to protect me then.

"Is it so bad?"

"He..." Eugene began. "Don't worry. Father isn't mad, and he loves you dearly, and I'll be right beside you in any event. Anyway, you're other point...I suppose she does need something to wear if she's going to stay here."

"I...I might have an idea," Cinderella said softly. Although I'm not at all sure you'll like it. "When we were first engaged, when I had no or few gowns of my own, His Majesty gave me some of your mother's old things..." She let the implication hang in the air between them.

"You want to give them to her?" Eugene said. "To dress my father's mistress in my mother's clothes."

"I'm sorry, but I can't think what else to do," Cinderella said. "What dress maker is likely to do what Lucrecia wouldn't? Won't they all have the same concerns?"

Eugene stared down at her for a moment before his gaze softened. "You're right, probably anyway. And I'm the one who should apologise, I know you're only trying to help. You didn't ask for this absurd situation. And, whatever I think about the notion, it is a good idea."

"It's the best I could think of," Cinderella said. She didn't wear the late Queen's gowns frequently, and never had; not because they weren't beautiful - they were, some of them extremely so - but they weren't quite Cinderella's style; they had been tailored for a different woman, with different tastes to Cinderella who preferred dresses suited to her nature. Hopefully at some point Vanessa could find a dress maker to produce such gowns for her, but until then at least the Queen's wardrobe would leave her looking appropriate to the palace.

Shortly, they both arrived at the dining room, where through the open door Cinderella could see that His Majesty and Vanessa had beaten them to it. They were sat down, Vanessa at the King's right hand, leaning towards one another so that their foreheads were almost touching as they whispered sweet nothings to one another.

His Majesty looked so happy it was rather endearing.

Eugene leaned down. "I'll speak to Father now about the wardrobe, alone; if you do want to speak to Vanessa now might be a good time."

"Alright," Cinderella replied, as they walked in.

His Majesty, though he was the one facing the open doorway, didn't notice them enter. Rather it was Vanessa who seemed to sense their presence and turn towards. "Cinderella, Eugene! Good morning."

Eugene didn't look at all happy to be addressed by his unvarnished Christian name, but Cinderella smiled and said, "Good morning, Vanessa." While there were certain things that she wanted to know, she wasn't going to be unkind to the other woman, even if she couldn't get too close to her.

The King still didn't acknowledge them.

"Father?" Eugene said, as he and Cinderella walked down the side of the dining table.

"Hmm?"

"Father, I need to talk to you for a moment, alone," Eugene said.

"Oh, whatever you have to say you can say here, I'm sure," His Majesty said, already sounding bored by the conversation.

"And I'm sure that Mademoiselle Vanessa can stand to live without you for just a few moments," Eugene said with a touch of acid on his tongue.

Vanessa laughed, that tantalisingly familiar laugh. "It's alright, Louis, go with him. It might even be important."

"Very well, my sweet, but every moment will be agony without you," the King said, as he rose heavily to his feet. He stifled a yawn behind one hand. "Come on then, let's get this over with."

Eugene gave Cinderella a peck on the cheek, before he drew his father off and out of the room via the other door.

Vanessa shook her head. "These men and their important business. It's a wonder they find time for us at all, isn't it?"

Cinderella made a sound that was halfway between a giggle and a chuckle, and which she covered with one hand. "I've found that I've gotten to spend a lot more time with Eugene since I started helping him with his work."

"Oh, I am sorry," Vanessa said.

"I...why?"

"Because you have to pretend to be interested in dull nonsense in order to attract your husband's attention," Vanessa said.

Cinderella frowned. "No, that's not really what I meant...I enjoy helping Eugene, and helping the country at the same time; I wouldn't stop doing it for anything. I suppose what I was trying to say was that-"

"You were trying to say that your husband isn't willing to make time for you, so you have to force your way into his affairs in an effort to remind him you exist," Vanessa said. "And for that you have my pity. As you can see, I don't need to intrude upon his business in order to attract Louis' attention."

Cinderella felt a spark of irritation rise in her breast. "That's very kind of you, Vanessa, but I don't need your pity," she said, in a voice that took on a bit of an icy tinge to it. "I'm perfectly happy in the state of my marriage."

"Forgive me," Vanessa said. "In the country we call things what they seem to be. I suppose the court is more circumspect."

"That's one way of putting it," Cinderella said. Another way might be polite. "Vanessa, before the King and Prince Eugene return may I have a word with you?"

"Aren't we having a word now?"

"Yes, I suppose we are," Cinderella murmured. "But..." she glanced out of the glass doors leading out into the garden. "Would you care to step outside for a moment. The gardens are lovely, if you haven't seen them before. We won't be long, I promise."

Vanessa looked at her, and then at the garden. "Alright," she said, and got up from her chair. Vanessa threw open the gallic windows, and she and Cinderella stepped out into the crisp spring air. Bumble bees and many-coloured butterflies buzzed and fluttered around the flowers which had opened themselves in all their vibrancy to the rays of the sun. Birds sang merrily in the trees, and Cinderella found herself smiling at the words of their song - the words that only she could hear - as she and Vanessa walked between a pair of rosebushes, one blooming with red roses and the other with white.

"I love roses," Cinderella said, as she sniffed one particularly beautiful white bloom. "They're so lovely, aren't they?"

"You love white roses best of all, it seems," Vanessa said. "I can't say I'm surprised."

Cinderella giggled. "It does seem to be my colour, doesn't it?"

"Yes, but I was talking of the meaning also," Vanessa said. "Innocence, purity, sweetness; they suit you very well."

"Thank you," Cinderella said, feeling more comfortable now than she had in the dining room trying to work out whether Vanessa was insulting her on purpose or because she didn't realise how rude she was being.

"But I doubt you wanted to talk about roses."

"No, I'm afraid not," Cinderella murmured. She started to speak, but stopped, and fell silent for a moment.

How am I supposed to ask if she meant to proposition my husband?

"Vanessa..." she began. "What...Prince Eugene told me something interesting last night...about when he found you in the storm."

"He was rather boorish then, I must say."

"Mmm," Cinderella murmured. "He got the impression that you...he thought that you wanted to...love him."

Vanessa laughed. "Well, he is a strong, handsome, manly man wouldn't you agree?"

"I...yes, of course he's handsome...I admit that's one of the reasons I married him, but..." Cinderella ran out of words like a clockwork toy that has wound down, or a music box where the music has come to a stop. She hadn't been sure what to expect but surely not an admission, and not such a brazen one. She stood rooted in place between the rose bushes, staring at Vanessa as though a second head had sprouted from her shoulders.

"Cinderella?" Vanessa asked solicitously. "Are you alright?"

"You admit it?" the words burst out from behind Cinderella's lips. "You wanted to-"

"Who wouldn't?" Vanessa replied with a shrug. "You obviously did."

"Yes, but he's my husband!" Cinderella declared.

"And I'm the King's mistress," Vanessa said. "For what am I, if not for fun outside of marriage?"

Cinderella was not a woman to whom anger came quickly or easily, but at this moment she was having to resist the urge to whack Vanessa over the head with a broom handle.

Vanessa smirked. "Are you going to tell me to stay away from your man?"

"I trust my husband to be faithful to me," Cinderella said icily. "You should be more concerned with what His Majesty would do if he knew about this. What do you think of him, really?"

Vanessa's smirk broadened. "He's a wealthy and powerful man."

"He's a very good man," Cinderella said. "Who doesn't deserve to be lied to or taken advantage of."

"Why don't you ask him how much fun he had last night before you accuse me of taking advantage of anyone," Vanessa said.

"You're feigning affection," Cinderella said sternly.

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," Cinderella replied. "I would. And I don't approve of it. You don't love him at all, do you?"

Vanessa laughed. "Of course not! He's a fat old man, what should I love?"

"Then why are you here?" Cinderella asked.

Vanessa stared at her, her blue eyes cold, her smile unflinching. "Was there anything else, Cinderella?"

"I think I'd prefer you call me princess," Cinderella whispered.

Vanessa giggled. "I'm sure you would, but I don't feel like it. So, Cinderella, was there anything else or can we go back inside?"

Cinderella took a deep breath. "I was going to give you a warning, and I will: I love his majesty, and I won't let you hurt him."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, I'm not going to hurt him," Vanessa cried. "I'm giving him more than he's had in years. And besides, even if I was up to something nefarious, how would you stop me?"

Cinderella said nothing, for the simple reason that she didn't know yet. But she would do something. All her sympathy for Vanessa had been burned away, replaced by concern for His Majesty. I won't let you hurt him.

Vanessa said, "I thought so. Thank you, Princess Cinderella. You've given me something to think about."

"And what is that?"

"If I'm not going to hop between beds," Vanessa said. "Why settle for being the mistress?"

With that remark which Cinderella didn't understand, Vanessa returned to the dining room with light steps, leaving Cinderella to follow with steps more sullen and weighed down by concern. What should she do now? Should she tell the King? And if she did, and Vanessa denied it? No, she would not tell the King, not right away; she would tell Eugene instead, certain in the knowledge that he would believe her without the need for proof, and see what he thought best to do after that.

And to think that I felt sorry for you, and wanted to help you, Cinderella felt like such a fool; and yet, at the same time, she felt a little confused as well. Why had Vanessa been so honest? Blunt country honesty could not explain it, because she was certainly not being honest with the King, or at least it seemed otherwise to Cinderella. Why, then, had she been so blunt with Cinderella? Why engender her hostility at all?

There's one way to find out, I suppose. She's been forthright enough so far. "Mademoiselle Vanessa?"

Vanessa turned in the doorway to the dining room. "Yes, Cinderella?"

I'm going to stop letting people use my name until I can trust them. "Why did you tell me...everything that you told me?" Cinderella asked. "Why didn't you lie to me like you're lying to His Majesty?"

Vanessa's face was still for a moment, her expression neutral, devoid of smile or smirk. "Because nobody wants to see the same trick twice."

Cinderella's expression reflected her bafflement. "What are you-"

"Haven't you had enough of people pretending to be your friend with cloying sweetness? Aren't you a little over that by now?" Vanessa demanded. "I'm sure you would have started to suspect me in the same way Prince Eugene respects me. Now you know exactly what I am, and you can both get over it." Vanessa strode into the dining room, leaving Cinderella to follow.

Cinderella could only have described breakfast as an excruciating affair. The King and Vanessa were, in Vanessa's own words, cloyingly sweet, booping noses and exchanging sweet nothings and heavenly sighs into one another's eyes. If Vanessa had been sincere it would have been a lovely sight to see, but the knowledge that Vanessa was faking every word out of her mouth, that she was hiding her contempt for the 'fat old man' behind a mask of affection, that she was playing someone good and generous for a fool, well, it made her skin crawl, and the fact that she had to sit next to Vanessa while it was happening - Eugene had insisted upon the right hand seat that protocol demanded, at which point Vanessa had taken the left hand chair which should by rights have belonged to Cinderella, who had not insisted upon the point, because sitting between the two of them had promised to be even more uncomfortable than otherwise - only compounded her feelings of disgust and her difficulty in repressing them. Cinderella said nothing throughout the meal, she ate nothing, and sat with her head bowed as she wished that she could shut her ears as easily as her eyes.

Why are you doing this? What do you get out of it?

With her head lowered and her eyes half closed, Cinderella didn't see the two of them go. Rather, it was the sudden quiet, the absence of the King's declarations of love - declarations that sounded real, no matter how Vanessa might protest that she was deceiving no one - that told her they were gone.

She heard someone else settle into the chair beside her, and guessed even before she heard him speak that it was Eugene.

"Father agreed to giving Vanessa all of my mother's old dresses; that's all of them, even the ones he didn't want given to you."

"I see," Cinderella murmured.

She felt Eugene's touch upon her arm. "You haven't eaten very much. We talked about that. Cinderella, what's the matter? Did something happen with Vanessa?"

"You were right," Cinderella admitted. "You were right about her. I feel so stupid."

"You're not," Eugene said. "Far from it. What did she say?"

Cinderella closed her eyes. "She doesn't care about your father at all. She called him a fat old man, but also a rich and powerful man as though it explained everything. She would have...in her hut it was exactly what you thought it was. She's lying, pretending...and she admitted all of it." I feel so stupid.

She heard Eugene sigh with relief as he took his hand off her arm. "Thank God for that."

Surprise was enough to make Cinderella look up. "Eugene?"

"I was worried because I didn't understand what was going on," Eugene said. "And I admit I still don't really know why Father is exacting this way, but her...her I understand now. She's not odd, she's not mad, and she isn't genuine either. Just another grasping, greedy opportunist and those I understand." He leaned over and kissed Cinderella on the cheek. "Eat up darling, your eating for two, remember? And don't worry, I'm going to take care of everything."

"You are? But how?"

"I...I'd rather not say," Eugene said, looking away for a moment. "But rest assured it will be taken care of. This will all be over soon, and you'll never need to see Vanessa again."

Eugene had not come to his marriage a man wholly inexperienced with women.

Cinderella already knew that - how could she not, having come across his son by another woman? - but it remained something he wasn't too keen to remind her of, or to let her know details about.

This reluctance was not, he told himself, the same thing as dishonesty; he simply didn't see any point in rubbing her nose in the fact that he had known other women before her.

Some of those other women he had liked; one of them he had even loved before death parted them; and some of them he had paid to go away and never trouble him again.

He didn't begrudge them. He was wealthy enough to afford it - far wealthier than they were in almost all cases - and he looked on it simply as another kind of gift. While they were lovers, he frequently showered them with frequent gifts to keep them sweet on him - a tactic that, he thought somewhat guiltily, he had tried on Cinderella once or twice before he understood what she really wanted - and when they were done he gave them one last gift to not cause trouble.

He saw no reason why the same approach shouldn't work with Vanessa. He knew the sort perfectly well; as soon as Cinderella explained what had gone on between them he knew what she was: she'd seen a chance to make a pretty penny and she'd taken it. Now he was going to expedite the process.

Vanessa waltzed into the study wearing one of his mother's dresses. Wearing, in fact, the dress that Cinderella had worn on her first night in the palace, the blue one with the lace cuffs and the bows just above the hem of the dress. Her hair was elegantly and elaborately styled, had Father given her a lady's maid already?

After today it won't be an issue.

Vanessa beamed down at him. "Is my appearance more to your liking now, Eugene?"

"Prince Eugene or your highness," he said. "You are certainly less distracting to look at." Although that doesn't mean I like the sight.

"I'm so glad you approve," Vanessa said. She batted her eyes at him. "I suppose your wife tattled to you?"

"Cinderella and I talk regularly," Eugene said. "Did you really expect me to betray my marriage vows?"

"Oh, please. Men break their marriage vows every day."

"Not to this girl," Eugene said.

Vanessa sighed. "All the world in love with Cinderella, what magic is this more potent than any potion? Is this why you asked me here, to rail at me for desiring you."

"No. You're here to name your price."

"My price?"

"To go away and never come back," Eugene said. "How much money do you want?"

Vanessa stared at him for a moment before she started to laugh. "That's it? That's why you...Eugene, Prince Eugene, your highness Prince Eugene, do you really think that you can just pay me off and I'll slip quietly into the night and I'll never be seen again?"

"Yes."

Vanessa's face darkened. "I'm not one of your girls."

"No, you're my father's girl and I want you gone before you embarass him."

"What does your father want, have you asked him?"

"What is your price?"

"You can't afford me."

"What do you want?"

Vanessa giggled. "Oh, Eugene, you wouldn't understand what I want. But understand this: keep your money, because I'm going anywhere." She turned and swept away, leaving a baffled Eugene behind her.

If it's not about money...

Then what is she doing here?

I said in my author's note to the very first chapter that I didn't want to just re-hash the first story, and so Grace's behaviour here is as much for my benefit as anything else: I didn't want to go down the 'villain pretends to be smiles and sunshine while Cinderella is too kind-hearted to suspect they might be up to something' route that The Rose and the Crown spent most of its length travelling (you probably don't want to read it either); instead I wanted to do something a bit different: Cinderella and Eugene know there is something wrong they just have no idea how deep it goes.

This also affords them both an opportunity to be less passive in the face of their enemy going forwards.

This subplot also reworks elements I originally considered for the first story, where the King was genuinely going to fall for someone who turned out to be a conniving two-faced viper; I didn't do that because it felt as though TRATC already had enough antagonists with Frederica and Serena, but when I was stuck for what to do with Grace in this story the idea of combining the elements seemed like a good one.