Idyllic Retreat

Cinderella fastened her pearls around her neck. It seemed a little silly to be wearing them here, with Eugene far away and no one but her ladies and the staff of the Summer Palace to see her, but she liked them. She liked the feel of them, and she liked the sight of them around her throat in the mirror. It was vain, perhaps, but it was also who she was.

There was a single diamond bracelet around her wrist. Eugene had given it to her, before the wedding, and though she didn't wear it as often as she wore the other gift she had received that day - her beautiful necklace with the sapphire heart - she wore it each day now, so that she could simply look down and be reminded of him, as though he were here beside her.

Lucrecia had delivered to Cinderella some new dresses before she and her household had departed for this retreat, and Cinderella was wearing one of them now. Apart from supporting her bust, they were otherwise completely loose, and flowed all around her as though they were all skirt and no bodice, or as though the waistline had been raised as high as her bust (although the petticoats didn't start until around where a waistline that corresponded more closely to her actual waist would have done); that was all to the good, because Cinderella's more figure-hugging gowns were swiftly becoming untenable. Apart from anything else, Cinderella found that she ended every day with a pot belly and a feeling of indigestion that the doctors assured her was perfectly normal - apparently the child growing inside her was crushing her stomach, making it harder for her to digest - but wasn't any easier for Cinderella to bear. Although she knew with her head that her ladies would never had passed comment upon it, in her heart Cinderella was glad that Lucrecia's sartorial skill concealed the daily bloating of her gut from public view.

Her days at the Summer Palace were as dull and free from unexpected happenstance as she had hoped for. After her arrival, when she retired to bed rather fatigued from the journey, her days here had settled into a pattern of walks around the grounds - Jean had pronounced himself very satisfied with the security of the place, the thickness of the walls, the isolation; in fact according to him short of someone deploying a cannon upon a nearby hill there was no danger at all - the occasional stroll around the nearby countryside, and sitting and talking with her ladies-in-waiting. Sometimes Cinderella would continue with her music lessons, other times she would sit and listen to Marinette or Christine play the piano or the violin. Other times they would simply sit and talk, or her ladies would let her read in peace.

It was dull, it was uninteresting, and it was exactly what Cinderella had hoped for when she had set out here from the Palace proper. No zealous republicans tried to shoot her, no vengeful witches started taking over her, none of her ladies-in-waiting started abusing her, or revealed that they had always hated her from the first moment they met but had been hiding it until now. Everything was normal, everything was nice and pleasant and comfortable. Had Eugene been there it would have been perfect, and even in his absence...Cinderella missed him terribly but she had needed this. She hadn't realised just how badly she had needed this until she arrived and appreciated the calm and tranquility that had been missing from her life so often in the hectic months of her marriage. There had always been worries in the back of her mind no matter how badly Cinderella tried to banish them; but now those worries were gone, and she was in the company solely of those she trusted and she knew to care for her, and she had no worries at all.

Cinderella wrote to Eugene each day, but even as she had been in the Summer Palace for an entire week she hadn't actually sent a single one of her letters, not even a letter summarising her first week as had been her practice the last time they had been parted, when Eugene was in Louisiana. This was because her letters were so boring that she couldn't believe he would be interested in hearing about her days here. Until she got a letter from Eugene at the end of that first week telling her that he was desperate for news and would she please let him know that she was alright, and happy. Cinderella wrote back telling him that it was very sweet of him to care, but to let her know when she started to bore him and she'd stop writing.

One way in which her ladies-in-waiting had chosen to help her, a way of Cinderella was at first ignorant, was in censoring her understanding of what was going on in the wider world. Cinderella didn't realise that they had done this until a letter arrived from Princess Frederica, a letter which seemed to Cinderella to be almost written in some kind of code with references to 'distasteful rumours' and the need to tell her that 'I have spoken to Prince Eugene, who denies everything; but now I write to you hoping that you understand that you can trust me completely with any confidence', not to mention the unusually insistent questioning after her happiness and health. Frederica begged Cinderella to remember that 'I am your friend' and that 'it may be that I can protect you, if necessary' and on in such a vein that might as well have been a foreign language for all that Cinderella could make head or tail of it.

"I just don't understand it," Cinderella said, putting the letter down on the breakfast table that morning. "I can't think what could possibly make her write such a thing."

"May I see the letter, your highness?" Christine asked. "I know it is private, but-"

"Of course, please go on," Cinderella said, picking up the letter and handing it to her. "If you can make sense of it you're wiser than I am."

Christine read the letter in silence, and as she read her mouth crinkled a little and her brow furrowed. Silently, she handed the letter to Augustina, who read it with a similar expression of mounting distaste. Augustina in turn passed the letter to Angelique, who had to speak the words in hushed whispers while she read but otherwise had the same reaction as the latter two.

"What's going on?" Cinderella asked, before the letter could get passed to Marinette in turn. "You all seem to know something that I don't."

"Indeed, your highness," Christine said slowly. "Although the matter is less of wisdom and more of sheer knowledge."

"The fact is," Augustina began. "Princess Frederica is concerned that...some people may believe that..."

"She wants to know if Prince Eugene is hitting you," Angelique said bluntly. "Or if the King is."

The other ladies all looked at her.

"Somewhat indelicately phrased, Lady Bonnet," Christine said.

"If we dance around the issue as much as Princess Frederica did then we'll be here all day," Angelique replied.

Cinderella leaned back in her seat, feeling somewhat flabbergasted that Frederica would ask her...that she woud even think...Eugene would never do that to her, never in a hundred years or more. And, while it was true that His Majesty had struck her - that was one of the reasons she was here, if she was being honest - he hadn't been in his right mind, or she didn't think he had. He had never done anything like that before. "I...why?" she murmured. "Why would she...and how did you all know what she meant so easily?"

All four of Cinderella's ladies looked as guilty as children caught with jam stains around their mouths.

"Ladies," Cinderella said, with a touch of sternness in her voice. "I don't appreciate secrets being kept from me and I don't appreciate being lied to. Three of you at least ought to know that by now."

"With respect," Augustina said. "You're supposed to be here - you are here - for your health, to relax and get away from the problems of the court that have worn down and fatigued you. Exposing you to court gossip and fretful news hardly seemed conducive to helping you get the rest you need."

"That's probably why Prince Eugene didn't mention it either," Marinette said. "He doesn't want you to worry about it."

"That's very well meaning of you all, I suppose, but I'm worried now," Cinderella said. "What are you all keeping from me?"

And that was how Cinderella learnt that the King's attack upon her had been reported in certain sections of the press, and that rumours were flying that she was the victim of abuse by her husband and father-in-law, and that she had either fled for sanctuary beyond their reach or else been sent into seclusion to hide the signs of their abuse from public view.

If even Frederica believes it might be possible, what must people who don't know us think? Cinderella wondered. Poor Eugene. Why didn't you tell me about this so that I could help you? She ended up writing three letters that day: one to Frederica, assuring her that she and Eugene remained deeply in love, that Eugene would never be violent towards her, and that as much as Cinderella appreciated her concern she should believe everything she read in newspapers; one to Eugene, gently reminding him that she valued honesty in their marriage; and lastly an open letter to the Gazette in which she attempted to put these rumours to bed and reassure everyone that there was nothing to worry about.

As humbled as I am to the subject of concern for so many people, I can assure you all that you have nothing to be concerned about, Cinderella wrote. Prince Eugene remains, as he has always been from the moment we met, the love of my life. It was his courtesy and kindness, as much as his good looks, with which I fell in love and he remains both kind and courteous towards me to a fault. I wake up each day amazed at my good fortune to be his wife, and I am delighted to carry his child within me. As for His Majesty the King, he has become - if it is not improper to say so - a second father to me, and I have often found his wise advice to be of immense help. I have retired to the Summer Palace for the sake of my health and the health of the child I carry, not because I am afraid of violence or because I have anything to hide, but because the life of the court is hectic and tiring at the best of times, and at this time and in my condition I must look to the health of the future King or Queen of Armorique. The only reason Prince Eugene has not joined me is his devotion to duty and to all of you, the people of this country.

Cinderella knew that they printed her letter, but whether it changed anybody's mind she couldn't say. Still, she took some comfort from knowing that she had done what she could. Eugene wrote back in a somewhat chastened vein, apologising for having kept her in the dark. Her ladies-in-waiting also loosened the blindfold that they had sought to place around her eyes, although they preferred to tell her the news rather than let her read it for herself.

As her first week in rural retreat turned into her second, and as Cinderella's pregnancy entered its ninth week, she had some real news to write to Eugene about. The royal physician could not attend her so far from the capital, but he had provided the name of a most excellent doctor nearby who could visit to check on her condition. One day, as he was listening to the baby's heartbeat - by the simply expedient of placing his ear to Cinderella's swelling womb - he stopped. He frowned, and changed position, listening to the other side of Cinderella's belly. He then went back to his prior place.

"Is something wrong?" Cinderella asked anxiously, dreading what he might be about to tell her. Was there something wrong with the baby's heartbeat? Was there no heartbeat at all? Had her baby...would she not bear a living child but only...she was terrified, but at the same time desperate to find out.

"Wrong?" the doctor asked. "No, not at all, your highness. In fact you are to be congratulated. I do believe it's twins."

Cinderella's eyes widened. "Twins?" she gasped. "Are...are you sure?"

"I am sure that I can hear two distinct heartbeats, ma'am, neither of them your own," the doctor said. "It also explains why your weight gain is somewhat greater than expected for a single child."

Two children, Cinderella thought, as she spent the rest of the day in a kind of daze of happiness. I have two children growing inside me. I'm going to have two children. I hope...I hope it's a boy and a girl, but I will love them just the same no matter what.

Eugene shared her delight when she wrote to him with the news - certainly he ensured it got into all the papers - although it also seemed to make him even more concerned for Cinderella's health than before, and he urged her not to come back until she was absolutely ready.

To tell the truth, as her belly and her breasts alike both swelled ever larger, as she woke up each day heavier than the last, as her back ached and she tiredness and nausea assailed her, Cinderella doubted that she could have faced the rigours of even the journey back to the palace still less faced whatever might be waiting for her there. Certainly, when confronted with the choice, staying here in comfortable seclusion seemed so much more tempting than any travel.

And so Cinderella remained in the Summer Palace, reading or hearing about such things as the formation of a new government under Lord Roux, of the division of the Conservatives between those who stood with Sieur Robert and those who did not, and of the rumours of a new election that would, or so he hoped, give Lord Roux a majority in the chamber.

It certainly engendered some spirited discussion at times between Christine and Augustina.

"Rather opportunistic of your uncle, don't you think?" Augustina asked. "The current Chamber has yet two years to run until it expires."

"You call it opportunistic, Mademoiselle du Bois, I am inclined to call it prudent government," Christine replied. "At present my uncle governs on sufferance of the Conservative Party and their divided factions, but this split between them will not last forever. Once the Chamber is dissolved I expect Sieur Robert will stand aside in the interests of party unity, allowing some new man untouched by the Corn Law battle to unite the party once more."

"There is no man in the party untouched by the Corn Law battle," Augustina replied. "And I wouldn't be so sure about the split so naturally reparing itself. It may seem like the natural thing but...betrayal is one of the hardest things to forgive, wouldn't you agree Cinderella?"

Cinderella sighed. "I'm afraid it is. Once you find out that someone you trusted, called a friend...once they become your enemy or always were...it hurts very much."

"And both sides of the divide have felt the sting of it," Augustina said. "It will not be forgotten quickly, by either of them. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure Sieur Robert and his followers were an entirely natural fit with the Conservative party. I wouldn't be surprised if they found a better home as part of the Liberal coalition."

Christine wrinkled her nose at that. "I hardly think their attitudes would be welcome there."

"Or do you mean that their men wouldn't be welcome there by your uncle?"

Now it was Christine's turn to sigh. "I know what you're attempting to suggest, but it is far from personal ambition to say that our party would not throw over its own chiefs in favour of a splinter faction of their opponents. In any case you haven't proved ideological compatibility, you've simply asserted it."

"Under Sieur Robert the so-called Conservative party has conserved nothing!" Augustina exclaimed.

"Not all things deserve to be conserved, Augustina," Cinderella pointed out.

"Perhaps not, but you ought at least to make an effort if it's in your name," Augustina said.

As it turned out, Augustina felt sufficiently strongly about this that she was working on a book about it, as Cinderella discovered later that day when she dropped in on Augustina to find her working.

"Really? How wonderful," Cinderella said, as she sat down on the other side of Augustina's writing desk. "What's it about?"

"Well, it's called Sybilla," Augustina said. "And it's about..." her cheeks began to flush a little pink. "It's about a young woman, the titular Sybilla, plunged into great poverty until she happens to catch the eye and win the heart of the prince of Armorique."

Cinderella's eyebrows rose. "Really? What a novel idea."

Augustina snorted. "Yes, well...I'd argue there's as much of Angelique's circumstances as yours in there but yes, I'd be a fool to deny that you inspired a great deal of the character. But don't worry, I'm not planning to write a barely veiled account of your marriage, there'll be none of the more lurid shenanigans you've gotten yourself mixed up in. Rather, this is going to be a [i]roman a these[/i], a sort of political picaresque as Sybilla encounters different political arguments from the perspectives of her suitors."

"Suitors?"

"Yes, in order to make the themes of the novel personal Sybilla gets involved in a love triangle between the paternalist patrician prince and the liberal young gentleman Augustin. By choosing the right man she also chooses the right politics."

Cinderella frowned ever so slightly. "Does she have to? Get involved in a love triangle, I mean." she asked. Augustina was free to write what she liked, of course, but Cinderella had been accused of adultery enough times already, and if people made the connection between Sybilla and herself, especially with the author being one of Cinderella's ladies-in-waiting, privy to all her movements and her secrets...well, people might start to think all sorts of untrue things."

Augustina looked a little puzzled at the question, before her eyes widened with understanding. "Oh. Oh, God, yes, I see what you mean. Um, yes, we won't have a love triangle...I'll think of some other way to get the point across."

"I'm sorry if I've just made things more difficult for you," Cinderella said. "But you know what people will say and, well...I'm just not sure if I have the energy to bear any more of that at the moment."

"Nor should you have to nor will you on my account," Augustina said. "I should be apologising to you for not thinking it through enough."

Augustina wasn't the only one whom Cinderella came upon writing. The next morning when Cinderella came out of her bedroom, having just gotten dressed, she found Jean outside sitting at a little table, hunched over a piece of paper as he tried to write.

"Good morning, Jean," Cinderella said. "Don't tell me you're writing a book as well."

Jean got to his feet. "Good morning, your highness. No, I'm not doing anything like that. I'm just writing a reply to my bailiff, I had a letter from him yesterday with some information on how the school is coming along."

"The school?"

"Yes, I," Jean hesitated. "I should not bore your highness with my small affairs, if you will go to breakfast then I will follow."

"Oh no, Jean, you can't pique my interest like that and then stop," Cinderella said. "What is this about a school?"

Jean looked away for a moment. "The old du Villeroi lands which you so generously granted to me...they include not only a lot of land farmed by, by my tenants I suppose but also a village not far from the estate. I'm...having a school built for all the local children, paid for out of my income with no charge to attend. My mother taught me a little of how to read and write before she passed away, but other than that...Angelique only learned her letters when she came here. I hope...it might sound silly but I hope that maybe some of the children can learn enough that they don't have to save the life of a princess in order to make something of themselves."

Cinderella smiled. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, Jean, and not silly, not in the least." She chuckled. "I can't promise that the children will necessarily appreciate it, but that doesn't mean it isn't good of you to try. It is, and very generous."

"Your highness is very kind to say so."

"Wherever did you get the idea from?"

Jean shrugged. "I asked myself what you would do if you came into land and wealth, your highness."

"Oh, you're very sweet to say so," Cinderella said. "But the truth is I envy your local children."

"Princess? What do they have you should envy?"

"I was tutored privately when I was a girl," Cinderella said. "My father spared no expense to give me a proper young lady's education: literature, calligraphy, Greek, Latin, modern languages, music, dancing - that was my favourite, as you might be able to guess - riding...all of it stopped when my father passed away, of course, and I remember almost nothing of it now. You're local children are going to be better educated than I am by the time they're done and yet I'm one with all the power. It seems absurd, doesn't it?"

"They will be better educated than I am, too, but I'm the one they'll be paying rent to when they grow up," Jean said. "It is the way of things, your highness."

Yes, Cinderella thought. But should it be?

And so two weeks turned to three as the days wound on in a kind of pleasant apathy, interrupted by no events of great moment for good or ill, disturbed by no malice and impeded by no villainy, until the day came when Cinderella's ladies came to her with faces pale.

"I'm afraid there's some disturbing news," Augustina said.

Cinderella looked at each of her ladies in turn. "What's going on?"

"There is a move afoot to change the status of your highness' marriage," Christine said. "And in the process strip you of your crown."