Shocking
"How many people do you think will actually attend tonight?" Augustina wondered aloud. "I mean, considering whose party this is and the political circumstances I imagine a lot of people will find that they have better things to do."
Christine shook her head. "No, I think the opposite. Yes, everyone disapproves of all this but that's precisely why they will all turn up: curiosity will draw them. I wouldn't be surprised if the ballroom isn't fuller than ever."
"And the fact that we are without a government?"
Christine chuckled. "I wouldn't put it past my uncle to try and corner His Majesty and get the invitation tonight."
It was still the day of the fateful vote that had seen Sieur Robert thrown out of power. He had resigned that afternoon, just after lunch, but as of yet His Majesty had not sent for Lord Roux to invite him to form a government, a delay Eugene had attributed to his father's newfound disinterest in the affairs of state.
He was, however, interested in the ball to be held tonight in Vanessa's honour, her coming out into high society. It was a topic of debate between Augustina and Christine as to whether or not anyone would turn up.
For herself, Cinderella wasn't sure; nor was she sure what would be worse - worse for Vanessa, worse for His Majesty, worse for everyone. If no one came, or few did, then the King would be humiliated; but Cinderella was no stranger to the kind of misery that the aristocracy could inflict upon those they judged unworthy, and the fate of having to stand there and take their barbs without flinching wasn't something that she would wish on anyone, even someone she didn't particularly like. It would have probably been best if everyone could treat this as just another ball, but she was forced to agree with her ladies that there was small chance of that.
Things would be so much simpler if I could just believe she was a nice girl in an unfamiliar situation. But Cinderella did not wish ignorance on herself, she had suffered too much from being ignorant of peoples true natures. She was glad to know the truth, even if it made things more complicated.
On the whole, as much as it was unkind of her, she supposed that she would rather Vanessa were humiliated than the King; one could even argue it was a fitting price for her impure motives in attaching herself to His Majesty.
Am I becoming a cruel woman? Cinderella wondered. Am I changing just as my stepmother said I would?
"Cinderella?" Marinette murmured. "Are you alright? You're being very quiet."
Cinderella looked up into Marinette's concerned face. "I'm...I hope so, Marinette, thank you for asking."
Marinette looked a little confused, but she didn't press the issue.
Cinderella got up from the stool and walked over to the bed, to look down on the dresses that Duchamp had laid out for her to choose from.
"If none of them are to your taste, ma'am, there are others," Duchamp reminded her.
Cinderella smiled. "Give me a moment, Duchamp, please; I've barely gotten started."
"If I may, your highness, I would recommend not wearing anything too..." Christine paused. "If you are seen to be enjoying yourself at the mistress' ball you will be seen to be approving of the mistress. A dour dress to indicate reluctance would suit you better."
Cinderella sighed. "I'm sure you're right, Lady Christine, and if I had any dour dresses I might even consider your advice; but unfortunately I don't believe I do, I don't think anyone ever thought I'd need one."
"Perhaps a Sunday dress, your highness."
"You can't wear a church dress to a ball," Augustina said.
"It will demonstrate that her highness does not wish to be there."
"Oh, for goodness sake!" Angelique said. "That might make sense to you but most people aren't going to think like that. They'll just wonder why she's come to a ball dressed for church."
Cinderella was inclined to agree. What Christine said about her appearing to tacitly approve of Vanessa made sense to a point, but Cinderella didn't believe that everyone would give it as much thought as Christine had.
"I wouldn't recommend dour to start with," Augustina said. "You don't need to dress in mourning black to show that you disapprove of what's going on here."
"Then how is her highness to avoid taint by association?" Christine asked.
"By demonstration," Augustina replied. "You must give her the cold shoulder, of course, but think back to what you said about what happened in the chamber. People are starting to see you differently."
"For fear of something worse," Cinderella said.
"Does that really matter?" Augustina replied. "With His Majesty's behaviour as it has been these past days - disinterested in his duties, blind to the way he is perceived, absorbed in this sordid affair - you and his highness need to show Armorique a king and queen in waiting on whom it can rely." She smiled. "So put on your fanciest frock and wear your best tiara."
The fact that Augustina's advice sounded so much better than Christine's gave Cinderella pause; did it sound better because it really was better advice or simply because it accorded more with what Cinderella wanted to do, which was to enjoy each ball as best she could as though it were her last - which it might be for a little while, you could never tell.
"Angelique, Marinette, what do you think?" she asked, trusting that their judgement would expose any errors in her own.
"I think that if you really want to show how much you don't like Vanessa then the best thing to do would be not go to the ball at all," Angelique said. "Say you're ill, everyone will believe that because your pregnant; it would even give Prince Eugene an excuse to stay away as well, he could come up here and minister to you and everyone will be in awe of what a devoted husband he is."
"Then why don't you stay away and minister to Lieutenant Taurillion?" Augustina asked, with arch amusement in her voice.
"Because I'm not finished yet," Angelique replied. "I was going to add that you'd be mad to do it; Vanessa isn't going to care, so you might as well enjoy yourself while you can."
"And besides," Marinette said. "If you stayed away, or did anything to offend Vanessa...the King might take it as an insult. I think you should dress and act the way you would if this was any other ball."
Cinderella looked to the one lady who had not spoken yet. "Drizella?"
Drizella shrugged. "You've got the most awful taste, but you always manage to look so pretty anyway. I'm not sure you could look dour even if you wanted to."
"Thank you," Cinderella said. "I think. I'm sorry Christine, but in case there isn't another ball before I become too far along for dancing, I'd rather enjoy myself if I can."
Christine bowed her hand. "Your highness may do as she pleases."
Cinderella turned back to the dresses on the bed. "Now-"
There was a knock at the door.
Cinderella - slightly absurdly, she could admit - looked around the room as though there was someone missing. She became rather conscious of the fact that she was wearing nothing but a slip of silver silk, which left her legs bare and much else beside. She hadn't even put on most of her undergarments yet, and that wasn't a state in which she wanted just anyone to see her in. "Who is it?"
"It's Vanessa, your highness; can I come in?"
Cinderella threw on her dressing gown - it was blue and fluffy and embroidered with little pink flowers - before she retreated out of direct view of the doorway and said, "Come in."
Vanessa strode in, shutting the door behind her with a little more force than was strictly necessary. She looked at each of Cinderella's ladies in turn.
"Well, don't I feel like the lost lamb that wandered into the den of wolves?" she asked, as a smirk crossed her face. She looked at Cinderella, in her dressing gown. "Your highness, you're getting ready early I see."
Cinderella smiled, even as she bowed her head in embarrassment. "It can take me a while."
"Of course, you have so much to choose from after all," Vanessa said. She stalked across the room, and rested the lithe fingers of one hand on Cinderella's dressing table. "I'm afraid I'm here to take some of your choice away."
"What do you mean?" Cinderella asked.
Vanessa giggled - what was so familiar about that sound - before she said, "Come, your highness, you're not the only girl in the palace any more; surely you can't think it's right that you should have everything while I have nothing at all." Her hand began to drift idly towards the red velvet jewellery box.
"Her highness is the princess of this country and you're a glorified bed-warmer," Christine said. "The current distribution is perfectly fair."
Vanessa stared at her. "I don't believe we've had the dubious pleasure."
"Lady Christine Roux," Christine said.
"That was a little rude of you, Christine, don't you think?"
"I can't be rude," Christine replied. "I'm a duke's daughter."
"Meaning that all that you have comes from your father," Vanessa said, with scorn in her voice.
"Everything comes from somewhere else," Christine said, sounding supremely unconcerned by Vanessa's attempt to insult her.
"Indeed," Vanessa murmured, as she rounded upon Cinderella once more. "And my everything comes from His Majesty the King, who has commanded that I may take from your jewellery box, so that I am not embarrassed at the ball tonight."
"It will take more than that to spare you embarrassment," Augustina muttered.
Vanessa didn't respond to that. Her attention was wholly upon Cinderella. "You wouldn't want to refuse His Majesty would you, your highness?"
"Of course not," Cinderella said. She crossed the few steps separating her from the dressing table - out of the corner of her eye she could see both hers and Vanessa's reflections in the vanity mirror - and opened up the red velvet box. "What would you like?"
What Vanessa liked best, it seemed, were diamonds: thick diamond bracelets, many-layered diamond necklaces, diamond cluster earrings. She showed little interest in sapphires, and none at all in pearls...until as she was rooting around with her slender fingers she came across Cinderella's wedding necklace, the sapphire heart set in the string of pearls.
Vanessa's blue eyes gleamed with something Cinderella couldn't name. "Oh, look at this, isn't it lovely? I think I've seen you wearing this."
"It's one of my favourites," Cinderella said. "It-"
"Yes, I can imagine," Vanessa said, adding it to her pile.
Cinderella delicately reached out for it. "Um, I'm afraid I can't let you have that, Mademoiselle-"
Vanessa slapped her hand away impatiently. "His Majesty said I could take."
"Yes, but that was a gift from Prince Eugene-"
"So?" Vanessa demanded. "Everything here was a gift from Prince Eugene!"
"Well, yes, of course," Cinderella acknowledged. "But that was a gift to me before we were married, he gave it to me to wear on our wedding day. I, I'm sure there are other pieces in here that you'd prefer."
"Maybe, but I want this one."
"Please, Vanessa, it's so precious to me-"
"Don't be so greedy!" Vanessa snapped, giving Cinderella a sharp shove with one hand.
Cinderella gasped as she staggered backwards, her gasp turning into a brief cry of alarm as she tripped on one of the legs of the stool beside her. She landed on her bottom, hitting the wooden floorboard with a thump and a wince of pain. The overturned stool landed on her leg with a clatter, making Cinderella wince again.
And then there was silence in the bedchamber. The ladies-in-waiting stared at Vanessa as though they couldn't believe what she had done. Angelique's face darkened, and grew darker still as Christine put a restraining hand upon her shoulder. Even Drizella looked surprised.
Cinderella stared up at Vanessa, eyes wide with astonishment...and fear. She felt as though she were nine years old again, when Anastasia and Drizella had pushed her into a pond and then made her lie to her father about it, telling him she'd fallen in due to her own carelessness. She felt as though she were ten and about to get spanking from her stepmother. She felt as though she were a little girl again, and vulnerable in the face of strength wielded against her.
I'm not a frightened little girl any more. I'm not. I'm not trapped and I'm not scared and I'm not alone.
But Vanessa looked so cold as she stared down upon Cinderella from on high, that it was becoming a little hard to believe it.
"Here," Vanessa said. "Keep it, if it means that much to you." She threw the necklace at Cinderella, narrowly missing her. It clattered as it bounced towards the balcony.
Vanessa scooped up her takings, and swept towards the door. Christine's grip on Angelique tightened as Vanesssa passed the two of them.
"Not particularly long ago someone like you would have lost the hand that touched a princess in such a fashion," Christine observed.
Vanessa snorted. "Then I suppose I should be glad that the times are more enlightened now."
"Quite," Christine said. "But His Highness will hear of this, have no doubt. And His Majesty too."
Vanessa chuckled. "Let me give you some advice, Christine-"
"Lady Christine."
"As you like, but for a threat to have any impact I'm afraid it has to be frightening," Vanessa said.
It was at this point that Angelique wrenched herself out of Christine's grip and placed herself squarely before the door.
Vanessa looked down on her. "Move."
"Why don't you try and push me out of the way and see what happens next?" Angelique growled.
"Angelique," Cinderella's voice was soft, it trembled just a little. "That's quite enough."
"It's what?"
"Move aside for her," Cinderella murmured. "Please."
"Yes," Vanessa said. "Move aside, there's a good dog."
Angelique bared her teeth, but she stepped aside.
Vanessa left without another word.
"Your highness!" Marinette cried as the door closed, rushing over to offer Cinderella a hand up. "Are you alright? Should we send for the doctor?"
"I...I think I'm alright," Cinderella said, as she allowed Marinette to help her to her feet. "But I suppose it wouldn't hurt to..." her free hand drifted over her belly. "Yes, please send for the doctor if he can spare the time to see me."
"You should have let me beat the tar out of her," Angelique muttered. "I could have, you know, even if she is bigger than me."
"I don't think that's really appropriate," Cinderella replied mildly. "And I'd hate to see you get in trouble over something like this."
"If the next words out of your mouth are 'I'm sure she didn't meant it' or 'She couldn't have known I'd trip on that stool' then I swear-"
"No, Angelique, I'm not going to say either of those things," Cinderella said. "I probably should but...the way that she looked at me, it frightened me...I can't bring myself to believe either of those things."
"You must tell his highness," Christine said. "Such behaviour is absolutely unacceptable."
"If...if you don't," Marinette murmured. "I'm afraid I will. I know that we talked about this but-"
"But your absolutely right this time," Cinderella said. "I am going to tell Eugene." There were certain things that she could manage on her own, and didn't believe he needed to know about; but this was something that he would want to know about, and she could hardly demanded honesty from him without in return being honest. And besides...as much as it didn't make any sense the fear she'd felt looking up at Vanessa...she needed to tell Eugene so that she didn't feel as scared.
I'm not trapped and I'm not scared and I'm not alone.
The doctor was summoned. But, before he could arrive, the very act of Cinderella sending for him brought Eugene running up the stairs - Cinderella could hear his feet pounding - to burst into the room without knocking. "What's wrong? Why has the doctor been sent for?"
"Please come in," Cinderella murmured from where she sat on her bed.
Eugene was clearly in no mood for games. He stood over her, his face contorted with the agony of anxiety. "Cinderella, what's happened, what's the matter?"
"Nothing, I hope," Cinderella said. "We, I just felt it was best to be sure."
"Sure of what?" Eugene demanded. He sat down on the bed beside her, reaching for her hands. "Please, something must have happened, tell me."
Cinderella looked away. "Vanessa and I got into an argument over a necklace. Silly, really, but at the time...she pushed me, I tripped and fell. I'm sure it's nothing but-"
The rest of her words were cut off as Eugene enfolded her in his arms, hugging her tight so that her head was resting against his chest. She could feel his jawline on the top her head. "Cinderella," he whispered. "I...that bloody woman, how dare she?"
Cinderella let out a breath she hadn't even known that she was holding. She wasn't a lonely little girl any more. She had a husband and friends who loved her and who would protect her. She closed her eyes and let him hold her tight and close.
"Your highnesses," Christine said, reminding Cinderella that she and Eugene were not alone. Not that she felt embarrassed at all about her behaviour, and certainly she made no move to end his embrace of her. "This girl must be sent away; if she is not it will demonstrate a staggering lack of respect for the princess on the part of His Majesty."
"Of course," Eugene said. "I'll talk to him...but not until the doctor has declared that everything is fine."
The doctor arrived and, in due course, pronounced that everything was fine. He discoursed upon the fact that the unborn child was much hardier that it was often given credit for and - seeming blind to Eugene's growing exasperation - theorised that the human instinct to protect its offspring led to this misconception."
"So the baby is unharmed?" Eugene demanded.
"Indeed, your highness, the risk of miscarriage from such a minor bump is very small," the doctor said. "That said, if you have any concerns of course send for me and I will come at once. Good day, your highnesses."
The doctor departed, and Eugene kissed Cinderella on the forehead. "Thank God," he said.
Cinderella nodded. If something had happened...best not to think about what had not come to pass. "I should probably start to get ready...unless you think there'll be no ball now?"
"I would rather celebrate her going than her being here," Eugene growled. "If you feel able to, then get ready. I'll speak to my father now, and hopefully we'll have better reason to celebrate."
He left, and with him went most of Cinderella's ladies, leaving her so that she could dress and get ready without everybody crowding the bedroom. Angelique was the last one out, but as she was about to go there was a cough from the doorway leading into the sitting room.
It was Oscar, looking slightly timorous as she said, "Um, er, begging your princesses pardon...I mean your highness, um, Lady Angelique, can I have a word, I mean can I speak with you in...in here."
Angelique glanced at Cinderella, who nodded.
"Yes, of course," Angelique murmured, looking a little confused as she joined Oscar and Penny in the sitting room. They shut the door behind them.
Cinderella idly wondered what it was about as she went back to choosing a dress to wear.
Angelique shut the door behind her. "What's this about?" she asked, her voice betraying a touch of impatience. She...honestly, she couldn't say that she was particularly fond of Oscar. Jean had known her long than he'd known Angelique and, well, she'd be lying if she said she didn't feel a little...jealous. It wasn't something she was particularly proud of, but there it was. Did she have anything to actually be jealous about? Probably not, but that wasn't how jealousy worked, was it?
Oscar smirked. "What's the matter, Angel, are you in hurry to paint your eyes or something?"
Angelique's stare was flat and hard. "Don't call me that."
"What?"
"Angel," Angelique said sharply. She'd never liked to be called that, not even by Jean; she wasn't anyone's idea of an angel. "Look if this isn't important-"
"It is important," Oscar said. "So long as taking care of that woman matters to you like I think it does. Look, I've got no idea how to talk to Princess Purity in there, I don't know how to talk to princesses at all, but no matter how many fancy clothes or titles you've got now you're still the Angel Eyes that I remember so I can talk to you about this. I hope."
Angelique looked from Oscar to Penny. "Okay. Yes, it is important to do something about Vanessa. Maybe she'll get thrown out for what she did but if not...I don't ever want it to happen again. So...start talking."
"That's her, isn't it?" Penny asked. "The one you've been talking about, the one we've heard you talking about when you forget we have ears."
"Nobody forgets that you have ears," Angelique said. "We just don't mind you being able to hear. Cinderella isn't the kind of person who worries about being overheard."
"But that is her?" Penny asked. "That's the shepherdess."
"Yes, that's her. Vanessa."
Penny snorted.
"What?"
Oscar shook her head. "You've been a fancy lady too long."
Angelique folded her arms across her chest. "Meaning?"
"Meaning if that woman is a poor country girl, if that woman has ever been poor at all I'll eat these shoes of mine," Oscar declared. "And you've been here too long not to spot that. When you're poor like us you don't talk to the quality like that! You don't go shoving them around like that! Whether she meant for the princess to fall over or not don't matter because you don't push in the first place, or if you do then you turn and run the moment you've done it before they yell for the constables at the top of their voice. Are we supposed to believe that she was as poor as us a couple of weeks ago?"
Angelique frowned. What Oscar said made a lot of sense, and to be honest she felt a little stupid for not working it out herself. I'm not the girl I used to be, clearly. "Maybe the country is different?"
"The rich are the same wherever they go," Oscar said scornfully. "And that means the poor are the same too. Last month, the princess could have had woman tied to a tree and flogged but you wouldn't know it from the way she acts, would you?"
"Cinderella wouldn't do that, even to someone who deserved it."
"Maybe not, but you know as well as I do that when you're dealing with the quality you don't take a chance that you're in front of one of the good ones," Oscar replied. "And when one of them says something like 'you ought to have your hand cut off' you don't laugh it off or say 'well, I'm glad you can't' because you know that if they really wanted to they could and they'd get away with it because they've got the money and the name and the power and no judge is going to take your side against them. That's what it means to be poor, to be at their mercy all the time, that's why I'm here. That's why I'm talking to you, because however nice this princess of kindness is I still get a sweat when she looks at me!"
"Vanessa don't act right," Penny said. "The way she walks, the way she talks, she's someone who takes what she wants because no one ever tells her no. She's one of them."
Angelique sat down on one of the settees. What Oscar said made sense, even if it didn't. "But...she lived in a hut in a field somewhere. The prince found her there in the big storm."
"I once spent a month living in the west wing of some big fancy townhouse," Oscar said. "The owners to had gone to Greece so I broke in through the window and slept in the library until the old caretaker found me and I had to run for it. Doesn't mean it was my house."
"Why would you pretend to be a shepherdess if you weren't?"
"I don't know, I just know what I can see and hear with my eyes and ears and I'm seeing one of them, not one of us."
Angelique scowled. Oscar was right. Or if she wasn't right she made a convincing argument for why she ought to be right. I have been here too long, that's why I didn't see it myself. She had spent so long amongst aristocrats, people who moved through the world like they owned it because they did - or at least their father did - people who acted like they'd never heard the word no before because they hadn't; she'd forgotten there were other kinds of people, who didn't behave that way. Angelique thought about the way that Cinderella had behaved when she'd first met her; she thought it wasn't until the whole business with Philippe had been settled that Cinderella had stopped worrying that her husband was going to get fed up with her and get rid of her somehow. Angelique herself...she'd never worried about it, exactly, but she'd been very aware in those early days just how painfully dependent she and Jean had been on Cinderella's good graces, and that if anything had happened to Cinderella they would have been disposed of immediately. But Vanessa...she didn't act like a girl living on sufferance, she didn't act like someone who had been incredibly lucky and was wondering when her luck would run out. On the face of it, to say that Vanessa's position was precarious was to give her too much credit: the King enjoyed her, for now, and the moment he got bored then she'd be back in the field with the sheep. Why, then, did Vanessa feel free to walk around like she owned the place, to talk so boldly, to physically attack the princess like that? It didn't make any sense.
But...what did that mean? What would make sense? What was going on? Clearly something was going on, because...well, because if something was wrong there was usually a reason for it, wasn't there? But what? What was going on, and if Vanessa wasn't the shepherdess she claimed to be...who was she?
She glanced up at Oscar. "Thanks, for reminding me of that."
"No problem," Oscar muttered. She grinned. "You know, if you want to we could always rough her up tonight when there's no one to see. The princess doesn't have to know."
Angelique snorted. "Tempting, but I don't like lying to her."
"Why not?"
"Because she doesn't like to be lied to."
"It's not lying, it's more of a secret."
"She doesn't like those either."
Oscar huffed. "Not a lot of fun, is she? Are you going to tell her?"
"No," Angelique said.
"I thought she didn't like secrets?"
"She doesn't, but this isn't a secret," Angelique said. "This is a theory with no proof. I can't tell her that I don't think Vanessa behaves the right way, and even if I did what would Cinderella do about it?"
"What are you going to do about it?" Oscar asked.
"I..." Angelique stopped. Her eyes narrowed a little. "Would you two mind stepping into the boudoir for a moment and shutting the boudoir."
"Okay," Penny said. "Does anyone ever actually go in there normally?"
Angelique thought about it. "You know what, I don't think they do. Everything happens here or in the bedroom."
With Oscar and Penny safely two rooms away, with closed doors between them preventing from seeing Angelique behaving like a mad woman, she got down on her hands and knees until she found the mousehole in the wall.
"Jaq," she hissed. "Hey, Jaq! Gus! Anyone?"
"Heya there, Angelicky!" Gus called cheerily as he waddled out.
"Hey, Gus," Angelique said. "Is, um, is Jaq around?"
"Hesa getting something to eat," Gus said.
"Right," Angelique murmured. That was not ideal. Gus was...well, he was perfectly nice, but he wasn't the brightest mouse. Far from it, to be honest. She wasn't sure that she could explain to him what she wanted in a way that he would understand and be able to explain to the others. "Is anyone else around? Suzy? Perla?"
"I'm here, Angelicky," Suzy said, holding up her skirt as she emerged from the hole. "What's up?"
Angelique mostly retrained her sigh of relief. "Listen, both of you, I need your help. Cinderella needs your help."
"Cinderelly in some kind of trouble? Something happen to baby?"
"No, nothing happened to the baby, not...not while I'm around," said Angelique, trying to sound resolute. "But there's a new woman in the palace, a woman named Vanessa. It might not matter after tonight but I'm worried she's bad news."
"Whydya think that, huh?" Gus asked.
"Because she shoved Cinderella to the ground today and I don't think that's the act of a good person, do you?"
"What? He can't do that to Cinderelly, why I oughta-"
"You oughta quiet down and listen to what Angelicky trying to say," Suzy said. "What do you want, Angelicky?"
"I'd like you to spy on her," Angelique said. "Her name is Vanessa. She's got black hair and blue eyes and her room is in the King's Tower somewhere. Just...if you see or hear anything unusual come and tell me, okay?"
Suzy's face was earnest as she nodded her head. "We understand. We don't want Cinderelly to get hurt again."
"No," Angelique agreed. "No, we don't."
Eugene took the steps two at a time, climbing with long, almost loping steps towards his father's bedchamber, to which he had been directed by the equerries. A part of him wondered what uncomfortable sight he might find there, but he needed to do this now. This had gone on long enough and now...a fire was in him now, burning in his blood. He had never liked the prospect of this woman but while she was only making a fool of his father he had been willing to bear it until his father came to his senses but not now. Now she had gone too far.
He reached his father's bedchamber and hammered on the door with a closed fist.
"What...who is it?" his father's response sounded drowsy, as if Eugene had just roused him from sleep.
"Eugene."
"Oh...come in, then," came the still-somnolent sounding reply.
Eugene threw open the door so hard it slammed against the wall with a loud thump. As he strode inside he saw that Vanessa was there, and sitting on a wicker chair while his father sat on the floor in front of her. Thankfully they were both dressed.
Vanessa got to her feet with a smile which he could not now see as anything but smarmy in the extreme. "I should go and get ready; I will leave you to-"
"No," Eugene said. "It's best if you remain mademoiselle, for now at least."
His father started to rise. "Eugene, I don't think I like your tone-"
"Did you," Eugene said, speaking to Vanessa still. "Or did you not shove my wife to the floor?"
Vanessa didn't even flinch. "I did not," she said. "I pushed her, true, but it was her own clumsiness that caused her to fall not my intention."
"A fine hair to split, don't you think?" Eugene demanded acidly. "You don't deny pushing the princess?"
"Is she so delicate that the merest forceful touch might shatter her?" Vanessa asked. "Is she so precious that no mortal hand can be allowed to sully her?"
"She is my wife, the future mother of my child and yes, she is so precious to me that I will not stand by while you assault-"
"Your wife was being a selfish, greedy little brat in defiance of the King's command," Vanessa shouted. "She should be thankful that for her insolence-"
"Who in God's name are you to speak of insolence you-"
"Eugene!" his father roared. "Silence, both of you, your bickering wearies my ears."
Eugene's jaw tightened. "Send her away, father," he said. "Send her away or the dignity of the crown means nothing."
"I will not do so simply on your word," his father said, his words falling from his lips with the weight of lead. "It is for me, not you, to concern myself with the dignity of the crown. Now, Vanessa, my sweet, my darling, my precious, what is all this? What does my troublesome son speak of?"
Vanessa chuckled as she cupped the King's cheeks with her hands and kissed him on the forehead. "I did as your majesty commanded, and with your permission went to take some small number of adornments from the princess' overladen box of jewellery. She, being thoroughly selfish and self-centred, sought to deny me; I had to push her out of the way to take what was rightfully mine."
"That isn't how Cinderella told it," Eugene said.
"Then she lies."
"Father, you cannot believe this!" Eugene protested. "You know Cinderella, you know that-"
"I know that you spoil and indulge that girl far too much, Eugene," his father said. "It's high time she learned her place."
Eugene was frozen. He stood staring in disbelief. This...how was this his father? How was this the man who had always indulged Cinderella himself, and with such paternal fondness, now complaining that she was spoiled? How was this his father now taking the side of this woman over his son and daughter-in-law? How was this his father so transformed by...by her?
"What have you done to him?" he whispered.
Butter would not have melted in Vanessa's mouth. "I make your father happy," she said. "Is that not what you desire."
"I will not send away my comfort," the King declared. "Not for your wife and her tiresome whims. With Vanessa's help I see many things clearly now. I see how I have been a fool and how I may be wiser."
By turning away from the girl who loves you like a father in favour of this gold-digger? "Is there nothing I can say that will persuade you?"
"Nothing," said his father. "Leave me now, while I permit it; I no longer wish to be disturbed."
This girl must be sent away; if she is not it will demonstrate a staggering lack of respect for the princess on the part of His Majesty. Lady Christine Roux's words returned to him. At the time he had not thought it possible for his father to so disrespect the girl he had doted on as a daughter, but now...it seemed he was gravely mistaken.
Cinderella had clearer sight in this than I did; she might not have known what but her concerns have been justified, while my insouciance stands rebuked. He bowed his head. "Your majesty," he said softly, as he backed out of the room.
Eugene shut the door. Almost immediately he could hear his father and Vanessa giggling on the other side.
His face was set in a scowl as he turned away.
How do I tell Cinderella that the love her father-in-law once bore her has turned to ashes?
Cinderella armoured herself in silk and satin and sparkling jewels.
Sieur Robert had called her a knight, and if that was so then her armour was the gown of white in which she was enrobed, with its full skirt and silver bustle and oversized puffed shoulders. It was the long gloves that enclosed her arms, it was the silver hairband that glistened in her strawberry hair, it was the large diamonds that covered her ears, it was the bracelets of diamonds and sapphires that climbed up her arms, it was the necklaces of diamond, sapphire and pearl that embraced her throat and hung from her neck dangling towards her breasts. It was the twin roses, red and white, woven into her hair; it was the sparkling tiara set on her head. It was the blush on her cheeks, the shadow above her eyes, the dark pink colour in which her lips were painted.
This was her shining armour, and if it would not physically ward off blows it at least made her feel braver. She could put aside the girl Cinderella and become the princess. The queen in waiting that Augustina claimed they needed to see.
"How do I look, Duchamp?" Cinderella asked, as she stood in front of the mirror with her hands - rings sparkling on her slender fingers - clasped together in front of her. "Do I look like a queen in waiting?"
Duchamp was silent for a moment. "No, ma'am," she said softly. "But you do look like a most excellent princess."
Cinderella nodded. "Good," she said, in equal softness. "I don't want to be queen, Duchamp. I want His Majesty to live, to dandle his grandchild on his knee and teach them all about this family. I want a family, that's what I've always wanted." She closed her eyes, if she started crying then Duchamp would have to do her makeup all over again and that would be very unfair to her.
She felt Duchamp's hand upon her arm, resting in that small gap between her shoulders and her gloves where the skin of Cinderella's arms could still be seen, where she could still feel the touch of a hand unmediated by a layer of silk. "I wish that I could give you some advice, ma'am, to make this easier, but...this is as new to me as it is to you. To take up with...I have known His Majesty to behave this way."
"Do you think she'll be gone?" Cinderella asked.
"I don't know, ma'am," Duchamp admitted. "Ordinarily she would not be here to begin with."
"She shouldn't frighten me the way she does, but...what do I do if she is still here? She'll hate me for telling tales on her, won't she?"
"I...I would not have you alone with her, ma'am," Duchamp said. "Not until you know what malice she bears you."
"Nor would I," Eugene said, as he walked in. Despite the troubled look in his eyes, he tried to smile at her. "You look as beautiful as ever," he said. "I wish it were a better night for you to shine in."
Cinderella turned, and took a step towards him...and then she remembered that the last time he had embraced her while she was wearing a tiara it had nearly poked him in the eye, and so she gently removed the sparkling crown from atop her head and set it down upon the table. Only then did she left up her skirt and go to him. He hugged her, squeezing her gently as he kissed her atop the head, and then he titled her chin upwards as he bent down to kiss her longingly upon the lips.
"He will not be rid of her," he admitted.
Cinderella bowed her head. "I see."
"He...my father...I'm afraid he may not be as kind to you as you are used to," Eugene said, all affection flying from his voice to leave him sounding thoroughly miserable. "She has bewitched him, hard as that might be for me to comprehend. She's pretty enough, but I wouldn't have thought Helen of Troy could have such an effect on him."
"So what happens now?" Cinderella asked. "What do we do? What can we do?"
"I don't know," Eugene said. "But you were right and I was wrong, we must do something. That she is able to twist his mind like this...it isn't right." He kissed her again. "But I'm afraid there's nothing we can do tonight except brazen it out. Don't worry, I won't let her touch you."
She allowed him to embrace her again, feeling the reassurance of his grip upon her, before she retrieved her tiara and set it once more in her hair; and then Cinderella slipped her hand into his arm and allowed him to lead her down towards the ballroom.
Vanessa and the King were waiting for them at the ballroom doors, or at least they were there when Cinderella and Eugene arrived.
His Majesty huffed at the sight of them both. "I am not at all pleased to learn of your conduct, girl," he said. "See that you mind your manners better in future."
Cinderella curtsied. "I'll try your majesty."
Vanessa bent down to whisper something in his ear that made the King guffaw with laughter, and although Cinderella couldn't be sure that the laughter was aimed at her she had the uncomfortable suspicion that it was.
Vanessa left His Majesty a moment, and sauntered over. She was wearing red, a gown of flaming taffeta with long white glovers that were a mirror of Cinderella's own. Every diamond she had taken from Cinderella's jewellery box sparkled on her arms or around her neck or dangled from her ears. She moved with a feline grace, like a lioness striding across the plains; the smile on her face was almost lupine in the number of teeth that it displayed.
"That's close enough," Eugene said.
Vanessa chuckled. "Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?" she asked. "Did you think you could just snap your fingers and I would be gone? You may live in the Queen's bedchamber but you are not the queen of the castle. I'm here to remind you of that."
"Why?" Cinderella asked. "Why are you behaving in this way? What have I done to you? I don't understand, you saved my life, you seemed so kind...why?"
"I've been kind once, it didn't get me anywhere," Vanessa replied. She half turned away, presenting her side to Cinderella as he looked towards the doors. "My first ball," she murmured. "My big debut. I'll walk in there upon the arm of the King of Armorique. You know I've dreamed of this momemt. My whole life I've dreamed of it. Only...only in my dreams every face is smiling. In my dreams they cheer my name. In my dreams...I can pick out the faces of those who love me in the crowd." Were there tears in her eyes? Cinderella thought that she could see them glistening. But then Vanessa blinked and they were gone. "None will cheer me now. I'm all alone, and my face is hidden behind a mask."
The mask has slipped just a little, Cinderella thought, catching a glimpse of the real Vanessa beneath. And yet...it still didn't explain why she did this. Had she practiced to be kind she could have won the smiles and cheers she seemed to want.
Or could she? It took someone they liked less than me for people to start changing their mind about me, and how could that happen for Vanessa?
All the same, it would have to be better than behaving as she does, wouldn't it?
"This court is a pit of hypocrisy," Vanessa said, her voice hardening. "They hate me because I am a reflection of the shadows that they try to hide. I am a monument to all their sins."
"Vanessa, my love," the King called. "It is time."
A smirk crossed Vanessa's lips. "Wish me luck," she said, as she returned to the King's side, and took his arm.
The doors were opened and the light spilled out of the ballroom.
In all of the almost-a-year by now that that she had been at the palace Cinderella had never failed to enjoy a that she had attended with Eugene; perhaps she had not always enjoyed every single moment, but she had never had a completely miserable time and she had no intention of starting now. As much as this was Vanessa's evening, Cinderella was determined not to let Vanessa rob her of all joy. She was here, and Eugene was here, and the music was playing; what was Vanessa compared to that.
It helped that Vanessa kept out of their way. In fact once they were in the ballroom and the first dance played Vanessa seemed to take no interest in anyone but His Majesty, who with a grace and agility that was somewhat surprising led her about the floor. Vanessa's grace matched his own, she danced so beautifully that even Cinderella appeared flat-footed in comparison - and that with Eugene as a partner! - and put every other lady on the ballroom floor to shame. And as they danced she smiled so widely and so brightly that Cinderella was left, not for the first time and probably not for the last either, to wish that they could have been friends so that she could have taken joy in this moment as it cried out to be taken joy in: to see His Majesty happy with a girl who was equally blissful in his company. Alas, that it was not to be.
Thanks to the corrections to Cinderella's diet, she was no longer so anaemic that a mere two dances without a break left her exhausted, but nevertheless Eugene insisted upon fairly frequent rests; he made up for it however by never leaving her side, he refused all other offers to dance with any other young lady until they ceased to approach him altogether. He stayed with Cinderella, one arm around her waist, at every moment as the night wound on.
Which meant of course that he was beside her as Cinderella was approached by many ladies and gentlemen of the court; unlike the young ladies who sought dances with Eugene before giving up in frustration, these people approached the prince and princess together, husbands and wives each in their own partnerships. They had warm words for both of them, and after the first people to approach Cinderella noticed that they all made a point of mentioning Cinderella's father and how he was a gentleman, a noble scion. One person even shared a small recollection of him, for which Cinderella thanked him quietly, while another knelt before her and kissed her belly as though the child growing within would feel it.
It took, perhaps, a little longer than it should have for Cinderella to understand: this was their way of making amends without actually needing either to apologise for their behaviour or change the attitudes that had led them to resent and scorn her. These were, she had no doubt, the very same people who had looked upon her with such distaste, mocked her, offered her polite insults because she was a servant girl and thus unfit to be a prince's bride now, when faced with a shepherdess in the King's bed, they remembered that her father had been a gentlemen and doubtless told themselves that Cinderella had always been one of them after all.
In some cases they were exactly the same people who had tormented Cinderella not long before: Hortense Villeneuve, who had once asked Cinderella if she had intended to keep the palace clean, took her warmly by the hands and wished her well; Theodora de la Tour, who had once trapped Cinderella inside a wardrobe and listened with malicious glee as she shrieked and screamed and begged to be let out, praised her as a paragon of a consort.
It was a little disgusting.
"I'm afraid I feel a bit ill," Cinderella murmured.
"Do you want me to take you back to your room?" Eugene asked.
It took Cinderella a moment to realise that he had taken her literally. "No, I didn't mean...all of these people; I haven't changed, but now that there's somebody they dislike more than me they're falling over themselves to show how devoted they are. It's...it's hypocrisy, just like she said."
"Take what you can get, darling," Eugene said. "False love is better than honest disdain."
Cinderella wasn't sure that he was right, especially since false love could be hard to distinguish from the real thing until you trod upon it and the false affection gave way beneath you, but she didn't argue.
Not all who came to see them came alone, some were brought by Augustina and some by Christine, who respectively introduced those they had brought as though this were a much more formal setting than it was. Those whom Augustina ushered forwards tended to be like her: ladies and gentlemen but without titles, country squires with estates wealthy but modest by the standards of the greatest. Those whom Christine named tended to be the greatest, the ennobled lords and ladies of the realm, heads of proud houses of distinguished lineage.
The supporters of their parties, trying to woo us, Cinderella thought. She was perfectly polite to all but promised nothing to either.
As the night wore on, after Cinderella and Eugene had shared three dances in a row, Frederica drifted over to them. "I heard that you were the victim of a vicious assault."
"Who told you that?" Cinderella asked.
"Christine Roux is telling everyone who'll listen, and those that won't are listening to Augustina de Bois," Frederica said. "The word 'disgrace' features frequently."
Cinderella glanced at Eugene. "Do you think I should tell them to stop?"
"It's a little late for that now," Frederica said. "Besides, I think they're trying to do their best for you. Did that woman really strike you?"
"She pushed me," Cinderella said. "And I ended up on the floor."
Frederica's expression was cold. "You know, it may have fallen out of fashion here in Armorique but my father has had many mistresses since my mother died. Most don't last long, but he enjoys them while they do. When I was thirteen one of them slapped me. My father had her flogged, and he had me watch it too so that I understood what my dignity as his daughter was worth. By insulting me she had insulted him as well, and he could not abide to be insulted."
Cinderella shuddered. "Your father...he..."
"Is not a nice man, indeed," Frederica said. "All the same...in that instance he was right, as in this case your dear King is utterly wrong. You're garnering sympathy, or rather your ladies are garnering it on your behalf, but the idea that His Majesty has any shred of respect or even affection for you has been utterly destroyed."
Cinderella sighed and bowed her head. "Can it ever be revived?"
"Perhaps," Frederica said. "But he would have to repudiate the mistress first, and at the moment that seems unlikely."
"Has there been any reply from your father yet regarding Hispaniola?" Eugene asked.
"No," Frederica replied.
"And the vote today?" Cinderella said, thankful to be able to talk about something else. "Will it change anything?"
"Hopefully not, provided nothing comes of it," Frederica said. "Although...I admit that I sometimes curate the news I send home to Normandie, but I don't know if my father has other eyes and ears here. I cannot omit too much. This fall of the government, combined with this business...if my father believes that you are losing influence then he will look with more wariness upon your brainchild; that goes for both of you, by the way. Get your king under control, and remember that the domestic audience isn't the only one you have to worry about."
"Attention!" boomed His Majesty, as the music ceased abruptly. "Attention ladies and gentlemen, loyal friends one and all, your attention."
All dancing and all conversation ceased, as all attention throughout the ballroom turned towards His Majesty. He stood in the very centre of the room, with Vanessa by his side. All others gave them a wide berth, creating a circular emptiness surrounding them.
"You have all come," His Majesty said, for Christine had been proved right when he said that curiosity would draw the crowds. "To honour the lovey and delightful Vanessa who, though I have known her but a little while, has already demonstrated that she is my soulmate, the other half of myself that I have long been seeking."
Eugene made a sort of strangled noise as though he were about to choke on his apoplexy.
The King glanced up at Vanessa with a fond, doting smile.
"Here is a maid both fair and virtuous," he said. "Here is a maid who is wise, who knows when to speak and when to keep silent. Here is a maid well suited to the court, who unlike some fully deserves her place within these lofty, ancient halls."
It was impossible for Cinderella not to feel that some criticism of her was intended by those words, and judging by the way his grip on her tightened it seemed Eugene felt the same way. What have I done to offend you, your majesty? Cinderella wanted to ask. Tell me what I've done wrong so that I can make it right.
"Yet some of you do not approve," the King continued, sounding as though he couldn't quite believe it. "Some of you do not like the mistress that I have chosen, some of you simply do not like that I have chosen a mistress. You have not been quiet in your mutterings. But I, your King, have heard all your concerns, and this very night I will address them. For my friends, I tell you that you have come here tonight until false pretences. You are not here to celebrate a debut, or not that only; you are here to celebrate an engagement!"
"Oh please God no," Eugene muttered as murmurings and whisperings ran around the ballroom.
The King turned to Vanessa and descended to one knee as he produced a diamond ring from out of his pocket.
"Vanessa," he said, his voice love-struck in its tenderness. "Sweet Vanessa, dear Vanessa, fair Vanessa, fairer than the word of wondrous virtues Vanessa, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife and queen?"
Silence reigned over even the King himself. All Armorique held its breath.
Vanessa cast her eyes across the entire assembly, her face set in a triumphant smile. That smile, that almost smirking smile of utter victory, seemed to grow even wider when her gaze locked with that of Cinderella.
"With all my heart," Vanessa murmured. "I will."
The King slipped the ring onto her finger.