Rebellion...
Angelique opened her eyes blearily. Where...Jean's room. She was in the sickroom with her head and arms resting on Jean's bed. She must have fallen asleep.
Angelique raised her head, wiping with one hand at the saliva that had ended up on the blanket. Hopefully it would dry out before anyone could see it.
She blinked several times, and with her other hand - not the one that was slightly damp - she rubbed the sleep dust out of her eyes.
It was only then that Angelique looked at Jean and saw that his eye - the one not obscured by all the bandages - was open.
"Morning," he murmured. "It is morning, isn't it?"
Angelique recoiled, making her chair wobble as she slammed into the wood-and-wicker back. "And just how long have you been awake?"
"I'm not quite sure," Jean said. "Awhile. I think."
"You might have said something," Angelique declared.
"I didn't want to disturb you."
Angelique rolled her eyes. "Honestly, I...how do you feel?"
Jean winced. "You'd think that since every part of me is hurting it would feel normal, but it doesn't." His eyes widened. "The princess! Is she-"
"Cinderella is fine," Angelique assured him. "And so is her baby and Philippe too, for that matter. Everyone's fine, as far as their health goes anyway." She smiled. "You saved the day, again."
Jean groaned. "Strange considering the last thing I remember is the bear shaking me like a rat in a dog's mouth. What did I miss?" He tried to sit up.
"Hey, I'm sure you shouldn't be moving around this soon," Angelique said, rising from her feet and making to push him back down again.
"I don't know exactly how long I've been lying on my back but I'm sure it's been too long," Jean muttered. "Please, Angelique, what happened?"
Angelique sat back down again. "You were hurt," she said. "Badly, as by the sound of it you can still feel. That bear...well, you know. But, before it could...this woman came out of nowhere. Out of the woods, anyway. Her name's Vanessa, she's a shepherdess and she scared the bear away."
Jean threw back his head. "Then it was her who saved the day, not me."
"There wouldn't have been a day to save if it hadn't been for you," Angelique insisted. "That bear would have done for Cinderella and maybe Philippe too before she arrived if you hadn't thrown yourself in the way."
"That's very kind of you to say, but this Mademoiselle Vanessa deserves fulsome praise nonetheless," Jean said. "I should thank her."
"I think His Majesty is thanking her enough for everyone," Angelique said. "She's his mistress."
Jean's eyes bulged. "She...really? Just like that?"
"Not quite, it took a few days," Angelique said. "But she's here now, lives in the palace and everything. Prince Eugene and Cinderella aren't too happy about it. I'm not sure who is, apart from His Majesty himself; and Vanessa, I suppose."
Jean frowned. "It sounds strange to hear you say it, but...why does the princess dislike this? It seems unlike her, somehow."
"You're right, when she first found out about she took the whole thing quite calmly," Angelique said. She was aware of the fact that she was putting off what she really wanted and, to some extent, needed to talk to Jean about, filling him in on all the details to avoid getting to the heart of the matter...but how could she say it? And how was she supposed to explain why she was only coming out with this now? And how to make him believe her?
Much better to focus on other things, and it wasn't as though he didn't need to know them. "The problem," she continued. "Is that Vanessa is out for herself, doesn't care for the King at all, only for what she can get out of him. It upset Cinderella a lot to find that out."
"Does His Majesty know he is decieved?"
"I don't know what he's thinking," Angelique said. "He seems taken in, but that might be their little game between the two of them. I don't know how he could...I mean he...I mean no disrespect, but you know what I mean?"
Jean gave a barely perceptible nod of the head. "But the princess is safe, even if she is troubled by this?"
"Yes," Angelique said. "Your sergeant's been running things the last few days with you here." She smiled. "Cinderella wouldn't have another officer appointed. Said nobody could replace you."
"I will have to work harder to justify her highness' confidence in future," Jean said.
"Not for a while yet you won't," Angelique said. "You're not getting out of this bed before doctor says its alright." She hesitated. Was now the moment? "I, um, I have something to tell you."
Jean blinked. "What is it?"
Angelique's mouth was dry, and she felt as though she could hear the beating of her heart growing faster and louder. "Well...they brought your sword back! Some men found it while they were tracking the bear. It's waiting for you when you're better."
His sword? You are such a coward, aren't you?
"I'm glad," Jean said. "I hope that somebody remembered to recover my pistol as well."
"Yes, I did remember to pick it up off the ground," Angelique said. "I knew that you'd want it."
Jean smiled. "His highness the prince gave me that, in thanks for saving the life of the princess."
Angelique nodded. "Speaking of which: hand to hand combat with a bear? Really?"
"There wasn't much else to do," Jean said. "And I did try to shoot it first. Besides, it was worth a try."
"I'm almost certain that fighting a bear hand to hand is never worth a try," Angelique said, with acid dripping off the tip of her tongue.
"What would you have had me do, leave the princess and the young boy to their fate?"
"Of course not!" Angelique snapped, as she rose to her feet. "But there must have been something you could have done other than stick you own head in the bear's jaws instead."
"If there was I couldn't think of it at the time."
"And you nearly died because you didn't think! One of these days you actually will die!"
"As long as I protected the princess with my life would that really be so terrible?"
"Yes it would be terrible! It would be absolutely terrible because I love you-" Angelique stopped, but not until after the words had already tumbled out of her mouth. She gasped, her eyes wide, her hands flying to cover her mouth. Jean, sitting up in bed, looked similarly shocked. Well, I suppose that's one way to say it. At least I don't have to worry about that any more. Flippant thoughts aside, she wasn't sure if she wanted to hide or run or deny it or what she wanted to do. No, no she didn't want to do either of those things. She wanted...she wanted him to know she meant it. "I love you," she repeated. "I love you and if you left me I...I don't know what I'd do without you."
Jean sat there, looking as though he'd just been hit on the head with something. He didn't say anything, he didn't really even move. It was starting to worry her a little bit until he finally spoke, "You...really? I didn't realise."
He didn't realise. If I didn't know how he felt I'd be feeling worried right now. "Is that all you have to say?"
"Well I can't really leap out of this bed and give you a kiss," Jean said. "I'm afraid I don't I'm up to leaping anywhere at the moment."
Angelique snorted even as a smile illuminated her face. "You can still talk, can't you?"
"I suppose," Jean murmured. "I've never...I wasn't sure how to tell you. I was afraid that...I was afraid to lose you if you didn't..."
"I understand," Angelique said. "But I do." She sat down on the bed, and placed her hand on top of his. "I love you, Jean Taurillion."
"I've always loved you, Angelique Bonnet."
And then, because it was best that he didn't move around too much, Angelique leaned forward, and kissed him.
The carriage rattled slightly on the cobblestones as it conveyed Cinderella and Eugene down from the palace to the Chamber of Deputies, where a motion on the status of the Hispaniola landowners was to be debated that very day.
No response had come from Frederica's father yet - it was still too soon to expect one - and Sieur Robert had informed them that he intended to try and stall until a reply was returned. But Christine's insistence - repeated this morning - that Sieur Robert's command of the house was not what it once was rang in Cinderella's ears as their coach carried them down to the Assembly.
There was no need for either of them to attend. They could not speak in any event. They would be mute observers, and things would proceed as they would without their observance. But it felt right to Cinderella that they should go nonetheless. Certainly it felt right that she should go: this crisis was of her making, Sieur Robert's diminished authority was of her doing, everything came back to the decisions that she had taken during her regency; and though she didn't regret her decisions nor would she hide from the consequences of making those choices.
Eugene had less need to accompany her, but Cinderella was glad that he had decided to do so. Just him being there gave her comfort, and if anything happened while she was there then she would undoubtedly be glad of his assitance.
"How do you feel?" he asked, not for the first time that day.
"I'm alright," Cinderella said softly. She was now in the sixth week of her pregnancy - which was to say it had been little over a fortnight since the doctor had told her she was four weeks with child - and though her belly hadn't yet started to swell, or at least not so that Cinderella noticed, her breasts had become a little swollen and tender. Even now Cinderella could feel them aching, a constant dull throbbing pain beating at her thoughts. The fact that her dresses had all been tailored to cling to and display her every curve and thus left little room for expansion probably didn't help.
I shall have to get Lucrecia to make me something with a looser fit.
Part of the reason she was glad of Eugene's presence was that she found dizziness coming more often now. She didn't trust herself to climb up and down the many stairs to her chambers by herself any more - today it had been Marinette's turn to be her chaperone, all her ladies were very good about the duty and bore it with great tolerance; even Drizella muttered under her breath about how bored she was - and she wasn't sure she could have faced the climb to the gallery alone.
The look in his eyes told her that Eugene had read all of that into her two words. "Are you sure that choker was a good idea?"
In spite of her resolve to dress as she liked and let others think as they liked, Cinderella had gotten into the habit of not wearing elaborate jewellery when she visited the Assembly; thus, aside from the wedding and engagement rings upon her finger - how long until her fingers swelled and she couldn't get them on any more - and a pair of very small pearl earrings almost hidden under her hair, Cinderella wore no pearls or precious stones. She was, however, wearing a white silk choker fastened tight around her neck. Soft as the silk was she could still feel it quite distinctly.
She smiled. "I hope I haven't reached the point where it's no use even trying to look pretty yet."
Eugene raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "You still look absolutely divine."
Cinderella used her free hand to cover her mouth as she giggled. "I suppose there are a few - a very few - occassions when I could approve of you lying to me."
"I'll bear that in mind," Eugene said, with an undercurrent of amusement in his tone. "But on this particular occassion I wasn't lying."
Cinderella smiled at him for a moment, before a sigh escaped her lips. "What are we going to do?"
"About what, there seems to be so much that requires our intervention."
"I know," Cinderella said wearily. "But in particular I was thinking of Vanessa."
"I'm not sure what we can do about her," Eugene said. "But fortunately I'm not sure there's the need for us to do anything that you seem to think."
"Really?" Cinderella's tone was incredulous. "Eugene, she's playing your father for a fool."
"We don't know that," Eugene said. "It seems that way, I admit, but Father could be playing himself."
"He didn't seem as though he was," Cinderella replied. "And...what about before he brought Vanessa home with him, how cheerful he was at breakfast, the way he didn't care about his work, how do you explain that? Would he really go that far just to pretend to be in love? I really believe that he really does love her; think of how hurt he'll be when the truth comes to light."
Eugene frowned. "He might be embarrassed, if you're right. In fact I'll go further and say that he will certainly be embarrassed when he comes to his senses and realises how he has been carrying on. But he is the King and his own man, it's not for us to protect him from the consequences of his own follies. If he wants to make a fool of himself with a girl young enough to be his daughter that is his prerogative."
Cinderella nodded, although only slowly such was her reluctance to concede that Eugene was right. Everything he said made sense, but that didn't mean she liked it any better. It seemed poor repayment for His Majesty's kindness to turn her back on him now. "I just wish there was something I could do."
Eugene let out a small laugh.
"What's so funny?" Cinderella asked.
"Considering you don't particularly enjoy being coddled by me you sometimes show a great desire to mother other people," Eugene said.
Cinderella felt her face heat up a little. "I suppose...I am a bit of a hypocrite, aren't I?"
"No more than the rest of us, and you have the very best of motives," Eugene said. "I wouldn't worry too much. These girls...men find them easy to care for, but they tire of them with equal ease. It wouldn't surprise me at all if the bloom went off the rose soon."
"It wouldn't surprise me if somebody said the same thing about me, once," Cinderella said softly.
"You are not Vanessa, any more than she is you."
"I know...but I could have been," Cinderella said. "Look at all the wonderful things that you've given me, things that I never would have had no my own. I'd be lying if I said that I don't love having them: jewels and dresses and servants and companions and-"
"Hard work, public ridicule, constant attention from all sides, salacious gossip in the press, earnest thought on how to improve the condition of the people?" Eugene said. "If you're going to criticse yourself for enjoying the luxuries of your position then at least give yourself the credit for the burdens that you bear. Some of them are unavoidable, I admit, but do you really believe that Mademoiselle Vanessa is going to work to change the law to make people's lives easier? Does she seem as though her humble background has given her a great desire to help the humblest? That is the difference between the two of you."
Cinderella allowed herself to be convinced, and leaned against his shoulder and said nothing more on the subject the rest of the way, hoping in silence that Eugene was right about both her and Vanessa, and that the King's humiliaton would be brief and kept to a minimum.
They arrived at the Chamber of Deputies not long after, to see people already streaming up the steps and into the impressive baroque structure that loomed over them. Some of them, no doubt, were deputies that Cinderella didn't recognise, but some of them - the ladies, at least - were here to observe even as they were.
Eugene leapt down out of the carriage, and held out both hands to Cinderella. A good thing too, as no sooner had she set one white slipper upon the footplate than Cinderella was assailed by a wave of light-headedness, and the next thing she knew Eugene had grabbed her around the waist and lowered her down the ground. She dreaded to think what might have happened if she had come alone.
Eugene kept hold of her even after her feet touched the cobbles of the street. "We can always go home, if you want to. It might even be a good idea."
Cinderella placed her hands delicately upon his arms. "I'll be fine, as long as your here. I think I owe it to everyone to be here for this."
Eugene expression was grave, his brow furrowed and his jaw clenched, but he nodded. "So long as you feel up to it."
But he kept one arm around her waist and with his free hand he held onto hers as they climbed the steps and entered into the building, if not into the chamber proper were they were forbidden to go.
Inside the chamber was darker than outside, though not noticeably cooler. The echoes of discussion could already be held coming from the Chamber itself, along with the braying jeers and cheers that characterised the political debate. Sergeants at arms in tights and carrying swords stood guard, while pages in white wigs scurried to and fro with bundles of scrolls in their arms. Deputies in frock coats and tall hats whispered to one another in the corridors.
People bowed to the prince and princess as they crossed through those same cavernous corridors of stone, past musty portraits and marble sculptures in the classical style, towards the stairs leading up to the gallery. Cinderella tried to keep a smile on her face as she sought to ignore the possibility that a man who had helped her - and who, despite their disagreements, she thought was a good man - might be about to see his career destroyed as a result of something that she had done. Eugene murmured a few things to some of those they passed by, but Cinderella wasn't really paying attention to what he said.
They climbed the narrow spiral staircase - it was just about wide enough for the two of them abreast, but Cinderella was more than ever glad of Eugene's help - until they reached the gallery, where they were fortunate to find a couple of seats on the corner at the front, directly looking down upon the chamber below, waiting for them. As they took their seats, a murmur ran around the gallery and drew the attention of a few of the Deputies below. Sieur Robert, standing at the despatch box on the government side of the house, glanced up for a moment, and gave a barely perceptible nod to them.
The chamber was a maelstrom of noise, but Sieur Robert valiantly strove to be heard over the tempest. "Monsieur Speaker," he said. "Monsieur Speaker!"
"Quiet in the house! Let the Premier be heard!"
The speaker's plea had little effect, but it did quiet the chamber just enough that Sieur Robert could make his voice heard above the tumult. "I appreciate the desire of this assembly to act on behalf of loyal subjects of the King who appear likely to suffer as a result of the decisions of His Majesty's government-"
"Say who you really mean!" a voice - Cinderella could not see who - shouted up. "Jezebel!"
Cinderella flinched. She supposed she ought to be used to it by now, but she wasn't sure that she would ever get used to the insults that were hurled at her in this place. She half expected him who had insulted her to be rewarded with the cheers of the chamber, but instead - and contrary to her expectations - a cry of shame arose from both sides of the house and quite drowned out any adulation her assailant might have recieved.
What did I do to make myself so popular in this place?
"By His Majesty's government," Sieur Robert repeated. "And let me be frank and explicit-" laughter temporarily drowned him out. "His Majesty's government remains committed to finding a solution that will satisfy these sons of Armorique across the seas. That is why His Majesty's government has already entered into negotiations with His Majesty King Frederick of Normandie, and we expect a response shortly which will, we hope, alleviate all concerns of all parties. That is why I urge this house to do nothing that will prejudice those negotiations or give our Norman allies any cause to believe that we are not in deadly earnest in our proposals. It is for that reason that I call upon this house to stand behind His Majesty's government on this delicate issue and to do nothing that may end up harming our citizens on that far-off island."
"Resign!" someone shouted, and a chorus of 'hear hear' erupted from both sides of the house.
Sieur Robert sat down, and Lord Roux rose from the other side of the chamber. He spoke in a nasal voice that was somewhat unpleasant to listen to. "Monsieur Speaker, the right honourable premier asks this chamber to stand behind the government. But, Monsieur Speaker, the point at issue today is that this chamber has no confidence in His Majesty's government as we will prove this very day in the lobbies! This chamber has no confidence in the government to manage the fate of our faithful islanders to their advantage, nor to do correctly govern and administer the realm. This chamber, in fact, has no confidence in His Majesty's government in any matter, and the blame for that must lie squarely upon the right honourable premier who has clung to his seals of office well past the point of wisdom or even reason. For God's sake man you have sat there too long for any good you have been doing, go at once and allow a successor to take your place who commands the confidence of the house and the country at large."
Sieur Robert leapt to his feet at once. "The right honourable leader of the opposition forgets himself when he presumes not only to speak for the house but also to demand the resignation of the King's minister. Yet since he has so vehemently flung down his gage I will take it up. I say to my friends in the chamber that I accept this challenge, and I call upon my friends to support me in the lobby today that we may see, beyond a shadow of a doubt, who possesses the confidence of the chamber and who does not!"
More speeches followed, and most of them opposed to Sieur Robert. It was clear that, even if the Deputies could not actually do anything, they very much wished to signal their desire that something should be done. As speaker followed speaker, dwelling on the loyalty of the islanders during the American War or hinting at Normandie's wicked reputation or simply attacking the agreement which would see the island change hands, Sieur Robert seemed to diminish before Cinderella's eyes, his pride and dignity alike draining out of him.
Cinderella was, and it felt strange to admit this, a little surprised that more didn't attack her in the course of their speeches. She was under no illusions that she was popular amongst these people, and in the past people had not even been shy in calling for her to be murdered for the good of the country. When she had come here, the most she had hoped for was that her condition would blunt that particular viciousness - surely no one here was so base that they would murder her unborn child as well as her - but far from that, she was not even assailed at all. In fact she was barely mentioned, and when she was it was often with a note of grudging praise.
I suppose I should feel humbled by how little they really think about me, but I did this. This is all my fault. So why hasn't anyone brought that up?
A young deputy, his hair dyed purple to match his waistcoat, rose to his feet. "The right honourable premier speaks of His Majesty's government. Notwithstanding the right honourable gentleman's proven talent for mendacity-"
"Janus! Janus!"
"-and betrayal-"
"Judas!"
"-he goes too far, or thinks too little of the collective wisdom of this chamber, if he expects it to believe that he is the minister of His Majesty's government. Are we not all aware, as the whole of the country cannot fail to be aware, of what concerns His Majesty's mind at this hour and it is not the business of government!" the deputy waited for the 'hear hear's to die down before he continued. "Indeed, it is clear even to the most dull-witted throughout the nation that the right honourable gentleman ought rather to speak of Her Highness' government, for it is none other than Princes Cinderella who has become the prime mover of all the public and diplomatic affairs in Armorique, and turns both princes and ministers alike into her puppets."
This is more what I expected, Cinderella thought with a sense of resignation as indistinct shouting consumed the chamber.
The young deputy remained standing, raising his hands for calm and quiet. "I am not finished! Monsieur Speaker I am not yet done! This house must not think that I mean to attack or to impugn her highness! Far from it! Indeed I would go so far as to say that in a royal family which seems, at the present hour, to be comprised entirely of philanderers and fools it is a blessing upon this nation that there is within the palace a woman who is possessed of wisdom, morality and decency. Indeed, if some months ahead, a future king springs out of his mother's womb blessed with his mother's virtues then it will be all the better for the fortunes of the monarchy and the state."
"Hear hear! Hear hear!"
Cinderella's eyebrows rose. She barely heard the rest of what he said - it turned then into another attack on Sieur Robert - as her mind reeled from what was without doubt one of the nicest things that anyone in the chamber had ever had to say about her. What had brought all this on?
She glanced at Eugene to see how he was taking being called a philanderer and a fool. He looked remarkably calm about the whole thing. He must have realised that Cinderella was looking at him, because he glanced at her with a slight smile and whispered, "I've been called worse."
The speeches continued until the vote was called, and the deputies from both sides of the house mingled together in the aisle between the two rows of benches, before splitting up once again to walk into the two lobbies.
"Which lobby is which?" Cinderella asked.
"On the right is aye, and the left is nay," Eugene said.
Cinderella placed one hand gently on the brass railing as she watched the division. There were more, many more, so many more that it wasn't even close, deputies heading into the aye lobby, voting against the government. Sieur Robert's friends whom he had called upon to support him, seemed a sad and diminished band by comparison.
Sieur Robert himself was not heading into either lobby. He remained at the dispatch box, watching as his own deputies, the flower of his party, troops past him without a glance to vote against him and his government. Eventually he couldn't even watch, but stood with his head bowed as those who had once rallied to his call, cheered his speeches, obeyed his every word now consigned him to oblivion without so much as a second glance in his direction. It was clear from watching that he now, at least, comprehended his position beyond doubt. The emperor was without his army.
The vote was called, four hundred and thirty-eight to one hundred and forty-three against the government. Amidst the cheers of the victors and the whispers in the gallery, all that Cinderella could feel was guilt.
Eugene helped Cinderella down the stairs, where a page found them and told that Sieur Robert requested they join him in one of the private lounges. They arrived to find him, looking slightly pale from his experience, filling a glass of scotch.
"Your highnesses, thank you for coming. Would either of you care to join me?"
They both declined. "I'm so sorry, Sieur Robert," Cinderella said.
"Please, princess, you have no cause to apologise," Sieur Robert said, gesturing to a pair of well-stuffed chairs for them to take. "My fate is not of your making, and all political careers end in failure at any rate. This day was coming sooner or later." He sat down, as they did likewise. "Of course I have no choice now but to offer my resignation to His Majesty."
"I hope he will be in a proper condition to recieve it," Eugene said. "And to thank you for your service as you deserve."
"Indeed," Sieur Robert said, taking a sip of his scotch. "Your highness, if I may ask what is His Majesty doing? At best he is inspiring ridicule and at worse moral censure. What drives him to act this way?"
"I realy can't say," Eugene said. "I agree it isn't like him but...look we all know this sort of girl; she's an opportunist, and in a month she'll be forgotten."
"I hope so," Sieur Robert said, taking another drink. "Although I'm bound to say that not many deputies share your confidence. Nor does society in general. Many I know are expecting a long haul, as you might have guessed, princess."
"No," Cinderella murmured. "Should I have noticed something I didn't?"
"I don't see how you can have failed to notice the more affable words the chamber had for you."
"Yes," Cinderella said. "That did surprise me."
Sieur Robert smiled. "A knight may be a villain in a story which pits him against a romantic bandit, and that same knight may be a hero in a story in which he rescues a maiden from a dragon. The same man, but what has changed to make the villain a hero?"
"Who he's up against," Eugene said.
Sieur Robert nodded. "You are our knight, princess, and now it is feared there is a dragon in the palace. Good day to you both. Princess Cinderella, I wish you the very best of luck in all of your endeavours and interventions."
"Even after what they cost you?" Cinderella asked.
"You reminded me that I got into politics in order to do the right thing," Sieur Robert said. "And for that I thank you. A piece of advice, if I may?"
"Of course."
"If you want to know why the poor are so neglected," Sieur Robert said. "Start with who gets to vote and who doesn't."
They returned to the palace, where they found Angelique waiting for them in the hallway with a bright smile lighting up her face and an eager look in her eyes.
"Angelique," Cinderella said. "What are you-"
"He's awake!" Angelique cried, the words springing from her lips as though they had been contained for two long already and could not be held in any more.
Cinderella gasped, one hand flying to her heart. "Really? Oh, that's simply wonderful to hear." She glanced at Eugene.
He smiled. "Of course, you must go and see him. Give him my regards; I'll leave you with Lady Bonnet for now. I'll come and find you later." He kissed her on the cheek, and left her with Angelique as he left the palace as swiftly as he had entered it, calling for his horse.
Cinderella turned back to Angelique. "Lead the way," she said, although she already knew where Jean was.
Nonetheless Angelique took the lead, if only by half a step, as they made their way towards Jean's sickroom.
"You told him then?" Cinderella asked, sweetness and amusement mingling her voice in equal measure.
"I didn't say that," Angelique said.
"You didn't have to," Cinderella replied. "Your smile said everything that you didn't, and more."
The same smile that had told Cinderella all she needed to know grew a little wider at her words.
They arrived at the sickroom, were Angelique opened the door to reveal Jean sitting up in bed as though he were expecting her. He looked paler and more frail than he had been before his awful experience, and his body - including half his face - was still swathed in bandages. But he was alive and he was awake and he was up and he smiled at her and Cinderella felt such relief coursing through her at the sight. He was going to get better. He wasn't going to die. It was going to be alright. This, at least, was going to be alright.
"Your highness," he said, and his voice at least didn't seem to have changed at all. "I would bow, but I'm afraid of what Angelique would do to me if I tried to get out to bed.
Cinderella laughed, and there was such relief in her laughter that it was like the peeling of bells. "That's quite alright, Jean. You can stay right where you are." She crossed the dark room, her skirt swishing around her as she walked, and sat down on the side of his bed. "How do you feel?"
"I ache a lot, and these bandages itch, your highness."
Cinderella laughed again, and a fond smile lingered on her face. "I'm sorry about that. Hopefully the bandages can come off soon."
"I long for the day I can return to duty, your highness."
"I'm sure I've told you that you can call me Cinderella in private, Jean," Cinderella said, with the merest hint of reproach. "As for your duties, I don't want you to worry about a thing. Come back when your ready, and not a minute before."
"Don't worry, I'll make sure of that," Angelique said.
Jean bowed his head. "I seem to have little choice in the matter. Princess...Cinderella...I am very glad to see you well and safe, and I am sorry that you had to rely upon an unknown rescuer after I-"
"That's enough, Jean," Cinderella said fiercely. "That's quite enough. What you did and what you've done for me...how many times have you saved my life now? I really will have to start being more careful." She wiped away a couple of tears which threatened to fall from her eyes, and took Jean's hands in her gentle grasp. "Eugene is my prince, my husband and my love," she said. "But you...you're my hero, Jean Taurillion." She leaned forward, and kissed him on the cheek. "So get well soon."
Eugene looked around the rather bare stone office. "So…this is where you work?"
"It is," Etienne said. It was true that it was an austere place, but it was in one of the last parts of a medieval fortress still standing – the old Gatehouse, from when the city still had a curtain wall – and, to be honest, it sort of suited his job.
It would only have been a problem if the office had been dark, but the light from his window fell perfectly upon his desk, so all was well.
Aside from the fact that he had yet to work out who this poor girl in the morgue was. Nobody had come to claim her yet, no parents, no sweetheart, no anyone. If she was one of those who, through whatever misfortune, was all alone in the world then he might never find out her identity, and that would make finding out what had happened to her and bringing the perpetrators to justice that much harder.
Or it could just be that nobody could recognise the drained and desiccated young woman on the slab. There had been young women reported missing – he had copies of all the reports from the city or round about scattered across his desk – but he couldn't be sure of which of them was the girl because her body had been so altered by…whatever it was that had happened to her that the physical descriptions were practically worthless.
Prince Eugene took a seat on the other side of Etienne's desk. "It's, um, airy, I suppose."
Etienne made a noise with the back of his throat that might have meant almost anything. "With all due respect, your highness, I have work to do. Was there something you wanted or can this wait until I get off duty?"
"Don't worry, I don't mean to trouble you for long," Eugene said, thereby revealing that it probably could have waited but Eugene didn't want it to.
Honestly, Etienne was a little surprised. He had been under the impression that Cinderella had usurped his place as Eugene's confidant – not that he was complaining in any way, it was meet and fitting that Eugene's wife should share Eugene's most intimate confidences – so why had he suddenly felt the need to come and unburden himself to Etienne? Unless he had done something to upset Cinderella (again) in which case this could get very uncomfortable.
"Is, er, is everything alright in your marriage?" Etienne asked cautiously.
"What?" Eugene demanded. "Yes, yes, everything's fine. For the most part, anyway. I think Cinderella is pushing herself a little too hard in her condition, but that's a small thing. It isn't making her ill that I can see, and everyone keeps a close eye on her."
"I see," Etienne said, concealing his sigh of relief. "Then what is the matter?" And why are you talking to me about it instead of Cinderella?
"It's this girl," Eugene said. "Cinderella thinks we ought to do something about her; I'm not so sure this won't go away and…even if I agreed I couldn't think what we ought to do. What do you think?"
"This is the mistress?"
"You must have an opinion," Eugene said. "Everyone else in the country seems to. They're laughing at him."
"That's a hazard when you behave laughably," Etienne said bluntly. "Now, if-"
"Don't I know it," Eugene said, interrupting Etienne before the latter could suggest that he had work to do. "But that doesn't make it easy to sit through. But this Vanessa won't stay for long, will she? I mean, we've known women like her, haven't we? Once she's amassed a certain amount of wealth or baubles she'll disappear. Won't she? Mind you, she must want a fair amount, I offered to pay her off and she just laughed."
"Perhaps she really doesn't want money?"
"Then what else could she want?" Eugene asked.
"I don't know," Etienne said. "But what I do know is that there is a dead young woman in a box in a cold cellar who has no one to speak for her but me and so…Vanessa? Did you say her name was Vanessa?"
"Didn't I tell you that already?"
"Perhaps you did and I just didn't make the connection until now," Etienne said, shifting through the papers on his desk as he searched for the right one. "A shepherdess, I'm almost certain you said that."
"Yes, that's right," Eugene said. "She lives in a hut on the moor along the Cornouaille road."
"No, she doesn't," Etienne said, lifting up the report he was looking for.
"What's that?" Eugene asked with a frown.
"A report on two missing people," Etienne said. "Roger Barere, a shepherd in the employ of one Alain Billot, and his daughter Vanessa; both went missing at the same time along with roughly a score of Monsieur Billot's sheep. Monsieur Billot being a squire living not far from the Nantes road and both the Barere's lived on his property. Naturally he was more concerned about his sheep than his employees."
Eugene leaned back in his chair. "There were about twenty sheep around her hut when I arrived, but that doesn't prove that it's the same girl. I mean, it's an unusual name but not that unusual."
"Black hair, blue eyes, tanned complexion," Etienne read off the description.
"That does sound like her," Eugene said. "Do you think she could have stolen her employer's sheep?"
"Perhaps, but even if we could prove it there'd be no point in arresting her; his majesty would just pardon her and he'd make himself look even more ridiculous," Etienne said. "Did you see any sign of her father?"
"No."
Etienne stood up. "Would you mind if I went and talked to her about this? Put it to bed once and for all."
"I thought you were interested in this girl?"
"I am," Etienne said. "But if I can put one matter to rest at least I can tell myself I'm making progress."
Etienne headed straight for the palace, the ability to act, to accomplish something - even something peripheral to the main task which he had set for himself - driving him onwards. That, and the niggling feeling at the back of his mind that this was important, the instinct that he could not explain but that he was not willing to ignore.
He arrived at the palace, where he collared the first servant he could find and asked to know the whereabouts of the King's mistress. She was with the King, as he might have expected had he thought about it for a moment, and so he waited at the base of the King's tower and sent another servant to politely request a moment of her time.
He was half-surprised that she came down to him, a part of him that he only recognised when it was proven wrong had expected her to refuse. But she descended the stairs, in looks matching exactly the physical description of the missing shepherdess, wearing a gown of crimson velvet that he vaguely remembered from somewhere, even if he couldn't place it. It was not the work of his wife, that much he knew.
Etienne pushed the question of where she had acquired the dress to one side as he noted something more interesting: how well she moved in it. She did not walk like a peasant girl newly clad in the dresses of the high; there was no uncertainty in her steps, no awkwardness in her gait. Lucrecia, though it was her passion and occupation both to create ballgowns, moved awkwardly in them when she wore them because she did so infrequently. Even Cinderella, despite the well of natural grace which she possessed, had at first walked with a touch of nervousness as though she were afraid of tripping over her full skirt and layers of petticoats. But this girl displayed none of that, rather she descended the stairs as though she had been born to such dresses, had lived with them her entire life, and she moved with a grace that the princess herself might have envied. It was strange, he might even call it inexplicable. Where could she have possibly learnt to walk like that?
"General Gerard," Vanessa said, in a smooth and cultivated voice as she reached the bottom of the stairs. "How can I help you? Have you come to apologise for your wife?"
That threw Etienne for a moment. "For what should I offer apology on her behalf, Mademoiselle?"
"Why, for insulting me," Vanessa said, as though that should have been obvious. "She was supposed to be my dress maker, you know, but she refused. Did she not tell you?"
"No, Mademoiselle, I was aware," Etienne said. "But my wife is at liberty to reject a client if she wishes, and I see no need to apologise on her behalf."
"You might change your mind about that one day," Vanessa said. "But if you are not here to apologise for the insult, why are you here? I'm afraid I can't stay long, I told Louis I'd be back soon."
"I was hoping you could tell me where your father is, Mademoiselle Barere," Etienne said. "He has not been seen since, well, since you were last seen; since you are here, I was hoping that you could tell me where he is and we can put everyone's minds at ease."
Vanessa stared at him. Was that a hint of nervousness he could see in her eyes? Certainly he fancied he could see a touch of surprise on her face. She attempted to cover it with a smile. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, general. My father died a long time ago, and my name is not Barere."
"Indeed? Then I do apologise for the confusion, Mademoiselle, and your surname is?"
"Dupont."
"I see," Etienne said. And the fact that you look just like Vanessa Barere means nothing, I suppose. "That is unfortunate but at least any misunderstandings have been cleared up. Good day to you, Mademoiselle. I apologise for the intrusion."
"Goodbye, general," Vanessa said. "I hope you find what you're looking for."
Oh, I'm not sure you do, Etienne thought to himself. He was leaving because he could tell there was no point asking any more questions, but that didn't mean he'd accepted the answers. Something about this smelt wrong and he didn't believe in coincidences.
He returned to his office, and gave orders to start digging up the field where he had found the dead young woman. He had a sinking feeling there were more bodies to be found.