Strategy

"Thank you, Duchamp," Cinderella said, as Duchamp finished applying a smoky shadow above her eyes. "Duchamp?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

Cinderella pursed her lips together for a moment before she spoke. "When...when this starts to look too ridiculous, you will tell me won't you?"

"Ridiculous, ma'am?"

Cinderella waved her hand to encompass herself, and her reflection in the mirror. "I suppose there will come a point when no amount of gowns or jewels or makeup will make me look presentable," she said, with a hint of a nervous laugh. "When the day comes, please tell me if I haven't noticed for myself; I wouldn't want to give people another reason to laugh at me."

Conscious of the fact that she was going to be seeing Eugene for the first time in three weeks - and that he was going to be seeing her - Cinderella had made an especial effort; her blue gown sparkled with miniature diamonds sewn into the silk, not to mention the glittering golden thread around the high empire waistline; her arms were enclosed within long opera gloves while diamonds and sapphires climbed both arms and neck; her hair was styled in the elegant twist that Eugene preferred, and a silver tiara was set in it. That last was as much a statement of intent as anything else: she was Eugene's princess and she meant to remain that way.

"If I may, ma'am, there are times I think you worry too much."

Cinderella chuckled. "I'm worrying about the little things, Duchamp, because...because the largest thing is simply too large. I can't...I'd rather not contemplate it for too long."

"I wish I had some comfort to offer you, ma'am."

Cinderella smiled, if only slightly. "Just hearing you say that is comforting enough, Duchamp. Whatever happens next, I hope that I'll be allowed to keep you with me."

"I hope that too, ma'am."

Cinderella's smile widened just a little as she looked away from the mirror and at the older woman beside her. "Thank you," she said softly. "Now, are we ready to go?"

"I believe so, ma'am."

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Cinderella called.

Christine came in, her silver gown flowing behind her. "Your highness, the last preparations are being made. We will be ready to leave as you wish."

"Thank you, Lady Christine," Cinderella said. "Duchamp, will you please take my bags down to the coach?"

"Of course, ma'am," Duchamp said, picking up the last of Cinderella's cases and carrying it out of the room.

"Lady Christine, will you please sit down," Cinderella said, gesturing to the chair in the corner of the room. Cinderella herself sat down on the bed, with her hands resting lightly on her knees. Her rings glittered on her fingers and Cinderella toyed with them for a moment, turning her wedding ring over and over while Christine sat down. "I feel as though we haven't had the chance to talk privately, you and I."

"Your highness has been very busy."

"A lot has happened," Cinderella agreed. "But still...are you happy here? How are you finding everything?"

"It is not what I expected, your highness, but it is not unpleasant."

Cinderella looked at her. "Is there no way that I can persuade you to be less formal with me."

"I'm afraid not, your highness."

Cinderella shook her head ever so slightly. "I'm afraid you're really not what I expected at all."

Christine tilted her head a little to one side. "Really? I might say the same about you, your highness."

"Is that so?" Cinderella asked. "What were you expecting?" She tried to keep the suspicion out of her voice, because Christine hadn't done anything to deserve a suspicious tone, but on the other hand it was hard not to hear that and consider that there was some kind of insult on the way. Christine might not intend it that way - she seemed to have a habit of speaking her mind - but that didn't mean that what came next wouldn't hurt.

Christine's expression was impassive as she said, "Honestly, your highness, I was expecting a heartless master manipulator?"

"A what?" Cinderella demanded, covering her mouth with one hand to stifle the laughter she could not still.

"You defeated Serena du Montcalm, by inspiring them to move against you you lured most of your enemies out into the open where you could destroy them all with unassailable proof of their transgressions," Christine said. "To me, and I don't think I was alone in this your highness, that seemed like masterful strategy."

"Really?" Cinderella said, wondering just how allowing herself to be poisoned while a coup was carried out against her could be considered masterful. "I never meant for any of that to happen."

"With respect, your highness, I'd rather gathered that by this point," Christine said dryly. "If your highness will forgive me for saying so you are clever but you are rarely wise."

"That...that is probably fair," Cinderella murmured. "If anything it might even be fairer to me than I deserve. Lady Christine, is this your way of telling me that you don't think I'm making the right choice."

"The right choice, your highness?" Christine said. "I think that you are absolutely making the right choice. When I first came into your service I thought there must be something cold and cruel behind your smile and affable demeanour; I was convinced that your sweetness hid something rank behind it. But...I was wrong. There is no hidden machiavel, there is no spider pulling the strings; there is just a woman who has demonstrated courage and compassion."

"But not wisdom."

"You have demonstrated a tendency to place yourself somewhat in the path of harm, highness, even when not strictly necessary."

"Sometimes the harm isn't clear until later," Cinderella pointed out.

"True, your highness," Christine agreed. "But sometimes it is."

"Do you think it is now?"

"I think," Christine hesitated for a moment. "I think Lady Bonnet was probably correct to point out that this may tax you, and I think you understand that. But I also think that we all agree that this cannot, ought not, happen."

"I don't want it to," Cinderella said. "But...Lady Christine, please forgive me, but-"

"Do you wonder why I am on your side, your highness?" Christine asked. "Or do you perhaps wonder if I deceive you in my affections like Lady Serena or Lady Grace?"

"This may be my lack of wisdom speaking," Cinderella said, with a slight smile. "But I think if you were trying to deceive me you wouldn't be so formal all the time and you would have started calling me Cinderella a long time ago, Lady Christine." Serena and Grace had certainly taken to her first name quickly enough; Theodora had gone a step further and called her Cindy. None of them had stood on ceremony the way Christine insisted upon.

Christine chuckled. "Your highness makes an excellent point."

Cinderella was silent for a moment. "Why are you on my side, Lady Christine?" she asked. "You don't know me as Angelique, Augustina or Marinette do."

"True," Christine said. "But I have observed you these past weeks and, if you are not the cunning genius I thought to find what I have found instead is nothing to be despised."

"Um, thank you?" Cinderella murmured

"Indeed, that was a compliment, your highness; I apologise if it was improperly stated," Christine replied. "You do not gamble, you don't sleep around, you don't even flirt or play the coquette with other men."

"I should hope not," Cinderella said indignantly.

"That was another compliment, your highness, not every woman in society is so restrained and as for men..." Christine trailed off, letting that thought hang in the air a while. "You enjoy the finer things in life - clothes, jewels - but you don't spend vast fortunes on them or force His Highness to spend fortunes for you."

Cinderella chuckled. "I have so many jewels already that asking Eugene to buy me more would seem a little ridiculous, don't you think."

"Again, your highness, that wouldn't stop everyone," Christine said. "The point that I'm trying to get at it is that you have no vices; you're conscientious and you work hard for the good of the country. Armorique could do a lot worse than you, just as it could do a lot better than the Duke and Duchess of Cornouaille." She smiled. "And you're a Liberal, which certainly helps."

"I don't think I should agree with you there," Cinderella said gently. "I seem to have enough enemies without making more out of a whole political party."

"Very well, your highness," Christine said. "Although it must be said that so far a demonstration of your political aligns far more with us than with the opposition. But let that aside and I think, I can't believe I'm about to say this, that I agree with Mademoiselle du Bois: you may not have been born to aristocracy but you exemplify its best qualities."

Cinderella bowed her head. "If I succeed in keeping my crown, Lady Christine, I will be try to be worthy of your kind words in future."

"If we succeed, your highness."

"If we succeed," Cinderella murmured. She glanced down at her right hand. Her wedding ring glimmered there, a band of gold upon the white of her glove.

If they ever place this ring upon my left hand, I shall be lost.

"I think," she said. "That we should be going. We're probably keeping everyone waiting."

"It is a princess prerogative to make others wait upon her pleasure," Christine said. "What are we, after all, but ladies-in-waiting?"

Cinderella smiled as she got to her feet. "It may be my prerogative, but it isn't my pleasure to keep you waiting any longer."

Christine followed Cinderella - making sure she didn't trip or fall going down the stairs or along the way - from the bedroom to the hallway. Despite this, they didn't leave right away because it would - Cinderella felt - have been rude to leave without first thanking the diligent staff of the Summer Palace for their hard work in taking care of her these past three weeks. Without them she would never have felt so relaxed and well-rested as she did - even with the threat of the Duke's proposal hanging over her head - and she made sure to tell them so, maids, cooks and gardeners all.

"I'm sorry to keep you all waiting," Cinderella said to her waiting ladies when that was done. "But they do so much for all of us I feel as though the least we can do is let them know all of their hard work is appreciated." Her step-family had never let her know that her work was appreciated, but if they had it might actually have made it so much more bearable.

"It's quite alright," Marinette said. "We're ready whenever you are."

Cinderella smiled, and picked up the folds of her flowing gown between her fingertips. "Well, I'm ready now, so shall we go?"

Once before Cinderella had returned from the Summer Palace to the main seat of the royal family in the capital. The last time had been almost a year ago, when she and Eugene had come back from their honeymoon. Then, Cinderella and her beloved prince had ridden together in the carriage while her ladies-in-waiting had been, indeed, waiting for her. Now it was her prince to whom Cinderella returned, while her ladies-in-waiting shared her coach with her as it rattled down the dirt roads. Cinderella wasn't sure if it was her condition that made her feel the bumps more or whether the road had gotten worse, but either way it was not the most pleasant carriage ride that she had ever experienced.

Still, Cinderella tried to take her mind off the bumping up and down that was making her whole body shake and jerk and concentrate upon matters of greater import.

"I value the advice of each and every one of you," Cinderella said. "If you have any ideas as to what I should do, what Eugene and I should do, I'd love to hear it."

"You must neither beg nor be defensive," Christine declared. "You cannot ask to please remain Armorique's princess or Prince Eugene's equal wife. You have been wed by the right hand in the sight of God and all the nobility and good burghers of the realm; the crown is yours and you are fighting for your rights not asking for a favour; you must always remember that and reflect it in your actions and bearing, your highness."

Augustina glanced at her. "In the sight of God? Are you sure you're in the right party."

Christine shuffled in her seat. "One doesn't choose to be born into one's family, and one doesn't choose the politics of the family into which one is born; I...I won't deny I have a certain romantic enthusiasm for the old ways, the king upon his white horse that sort of thing."

"Cutting off the hands of people who strike royalty," Angelique said with a trace of a smirk.

Christine shrugged. "It doesn't mean that I can't recognise that the problems of the modern day require modern solutions."

"You could appeal to the people," Angelique said. "They like you, even if the court doesn't."

"That is absolutely what you mustn't do," Augustina said. "Your popularity with the people is exactly why you are not popular with the court."

"I thought it was because of snobbery," Angelique said.

Augustina cringed. "Yes, well, that too. But the fact remains that the scent of populism that clings to Cinderella does make many good and respectable people uneasy. One spontaneous uprising can be forgiven, but if you're response to every argument or challenge is to rouse the mob or even threaten to then you will be thought no better than a tyrant. You will be no better than a tyrant. And tyrants invite more desperate solutions than rendering their marriages morganatic."

"People have already tried to enact those worse solutions," Cinderella pointed out gently. "Even when I had done nothing."

"I know, and you know that I don't condone it," Augustina said softly. "But when Serena tried to raise the nobility against you she cried out that the realm was in danger, that you would overthrow our entire social system. Do you really want to prove her right?"

Cinderella lowered her gaze as she was rocked by the juddering motions of the carriage. "No."

"Then you must answer this on the ground that has been chosen by your enemies and defeat them there," Augustina said. "Otherwise you will only store up worse trouble for yourself later on even if you triumph today."

"But how?" Cinderella asked. "Where do we begin?"

"You must win hearts," Augustina said. "Just as you won ours and as you won the hearts of the people."

Cinderella frowned. "I won the hearts of the people by being myself, but that's what the nobles don't like about me."

"I'm afraid I didn't say it would be easy," Augustina replied. "But it is the only way." She was silent a moment. "In your condition, how capable do you feel of travelling?"

Cinderella sighed. "I...I'm honestly not sure right now," she said. If anything, that was something of an understatement. The movement of the coach was starting to make her feel a bit ill, dizziness was making it a struggle to concentrate on what her ladies were telling her, and she was beginning to regret ever leaving the Summer Palace. If she could get home without having to vomit - if she could get through this conversation having understood everything that was said to her - it would feel like a minor miracle at this point. "Why?"

"It occurs to me that aside from these two visits to the Summer Palace and the occasional day out you've never really left the capital," Augustina said. "As a consequence you're largely unknown in the provinces save for what people read in the newspapers."

"What the newspapers say is often hostile," Cinderella pointed out, and her general discomfort made her tone come out even more miserably than she had intended.

"True, but people in the country can judge what they see with their own eyes and hear with their own ears," Augustina said. "Even assuming the court is a lost cause, there is more to Armorique than a dichotomy of court and crowd. You should get out into the countryside, attend a hunt ball, meet the gentlemen who are the backbone of Armorique. I'm sure there are some royal estates you could stay at, or my family would be happy to host you at Palliser in the south. If you can win a sizeable number of the gentry to your cause you will be very strongly placed."

"I...I'll see how I feel," Cinderella said. It was probably very good advice, but quite apart from the question of her health and condition there was also the fact that Cinderella didn't feel she was likely to shine in the countryside. She couldn't ride, at all - she'd stopped trying to learn after being thrown, stunned and told that she was lucky not to have broken her back or cracked her skull like an egg - and even had she been a great equestrian she would have had no desire to hunt for fox or hare or any other creature. She might do alright at a hunt ball, provided that it was less hunt and more ball, but Cinderella was afraid that she would only embarrass herself and Eugene amongst country folk, or alienate them by her disinterest in their ways.

Yet do I have any other choice? how can I really refuse?

She would talk to Eugene, she decided, and see what he thought about the idea.

"The other avenue to take is the parties," Christine said. "The Duke will never be able to push this through without support in the legislature. And while Mademoiselle du Bois' suggested approach may bear some fruit with the country party you will need a different tack with Liberal grandees. I should start with your radical corn-law friends and see what can be done from there."

"Your radical friends might want you to embrace more radical causes, that will rouse as much enmity as it bears fruit in goodwill," Augustina said.

"It should be attempted," Christine insisted.

"And I will," Cinderella said. "Angelique, Marinette, you've been very quiet."

Angelique shrugged. "This isn't my field, and I'd rather say nothing than give you bad advice."

"I'm almost as lost as Angelique is," Marinette said. "After my father...I don't really know very much about all this sort of thing. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Cinderella said. "After all, I'm in the exact same position as the two of you."

About halfway home the royal party stopped at a roadside tavern, for which Cinderella was very grateful as it meant that she was granted some relief from the jolting and juddering of the coach, and she could get out for a moment for some fresh air. She had to sit down again for a few moments while she waited for the dizziness to subside, but once it had Angelique accompanied her on a stroll around the lonely inn while Jean followed a few steps behind.

"How do you feel?" Angelique asked.

"I'll be fine once we get back, I think," Cinderella said. "I hope. Although I'm afraid I won't be visiting Augustina's seat any time soon if this is what it's going to feel like."

"Please tell me the last three weeks haven't been undone already," Angelique said.

Cinderella laughed. "No. I still feel so much better than I did then. After Grace, after Serena, after everything...I needed to get away from it all, and I did. But I can't sit idly by while a part of what I am is taken away from me."

Angelique nodded. "I understand. I still worry about you but I understand why you have to do this." She snorted. "It's a pity you can't just get a crowd outside this duke's house and frighten him into shutting up, though."

Cinderella shook her head. "Augustina's quite right, but even if she weren't...if I used the people like that I wouldn't deserve their help."

Angelique shrugged. She was silent for a while, and so was Cinderella as they walked across the cut and tended grass with their long dresses trailing behind them.

"Mostly," Angelique said. "I'm not going to say what you should or shouldn't do; I trust Augustina knows what she's doing, and while I don't trust Lady Christine the same way I can't say that she's wrong. But I will say this: I'd hate to see you stop fighting for what you believe in because you're afraid of what people will think."

"What do you mean?"

"What Augustina said about radical causes," Angelique said. "Yes, if you throw your support behind another corn laws or whatever you'll upset some people. Maybe even some people who weren't upset with you already if that's possible. But I wouldn't...I know that you have to defend your rights and I know that you need support to do that, but the thing that I admire most about you is the way you do the right thing no matter how hard it is. I...I wouldn't want to see you put your crown ahead of that."

"Nor would I," Cinderella said quietly.

Angelique looked down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No, Angelique, I wasn't rebuking you, only agreeing with you," Cinderella said quickly. "And I hope, that if you see that happening, you'll let me know."

Angelique grinned as she nodded. "Gladly."

As they prepared to head off again, the innkeeper told Cinderella that no matter what happened, she would always be queen in people's hearts, for which sentiment Cinderella thanked him even as she hoped to be his actual queen one distant day, and the innkeeper's adorable little daughter gave her some wildflowers, for which Cinderella gave her a kiss on the forehead.

She kept the flowers in her lap as the carriage set off again.

Cinderella wasn't entirely sure how long it was, another two or three hours perhaps, but after some while longer - having transition from dirt roads onto the louder but no more comfortable cobbled thoroughfares - the carriage and all its escort clattered through the gateway and onto the grounds of the palace, coming to a stop in front of the steps leading up to the great doors.

A rider had been sent on ahead to tell Eugene that she was coming, and so as Marinette opened the door and climbed down first, Cinderella saw Eugene coming down the steps towards her.

Cinderella knew that she had changed over the three weeks that she'd been away - she'd gotten bigger and heavier, even if her new style of dress was concealing it to an extent - but he looked just the same as when she left him.

"Eugene," she whispered delightedly. "Eugene!"

"Cinderella," he replied with equal gladness in his voice; he came closer, descending the steps two at a time, moving only a little too slowly to be called running, Cinderella could see that she was wrong to think he hadn't changed. He looked wearier, and honestly in need of a little of the rest that she had just had. It was such a pity that he hadn't been able to come with her.

Cinderella climbed out of the carriage just as Eugene reached it. He put his arms around her, and before he had even said another word to her apart from her name he had kissed her. Cinderella allowed herself to melt into his arms, putting her hands on his shoulders as his arms entwined around her body and pulled her close. It left her breathless, but ended far too soon.

"I've missed you," he said.

Cinderella smiled. "I know, because I missed you too."

"How was it?"

"Not as wonderful as if you'd been able to come with me, but lovely all the same."

"I'm glad," Eugene said. He took a step back, but only so that he could put one hand on Cinderella's belly. "Twins. For the love of God, twins."

"I know," Cinderella said, with a shake of the head. "I still can't believe it myself. Twins, I mean..." she sighed. "There are times, when everything is going on and I feel as though I've done something terrible to offend fate and then there are other times...there are other times when it seems fortune has blessed us."

Eugene looked a good deal less sure of that. "You...you didn't have to come back," he said.

Cinderella's brow furrowed. "I think we both know that isn't true."

Eugene began to lead her up the steps into the palace, with one arm around her waist. "I don't want this," he said. Cinderella hoped he was referring to the Duke of Cornouaille's desire, not to her children. "I don't want to lose you as my princess," he added, proving Cinderella's hopeful assumption right. "I don't intend to let it happen without a fight. But...what matters most to me is you, your health and that of the children. I'd rather have a living morganatic wife and living children then a dead royal bride in a royal tomb. So promise me you won't...be careful with yourself."

"I will," Cinderella promised. "But I couldn't just wait in the Summer Palace for news while our marriage is taken away from us."

Eugene chuckled. "I worry about you, but I'm glad that's how you feel. As I said, I don't want this, but if you hadn't wanted to fight I wouldn't have." He glanced behind him. "Have you been talking strategy with your ladies-in-waiting?"

"Have you discussed it with General Gerard?"

Eugene chuckled again. "A little? Have you had any ideas?"

"Perhaps," Cinderella said. "Lady Christine says that we have to be bold, we can't beg for what we already have. And that has given me an idea, although I'm not sure how good it is."

They finished climbing the steps and passed into the palace, walking down the hall past the rows of guards who lined the corridor.

"What are you thinking of?"

Cinderella looked away for a moment, and a slight giggle escaped her lips. "I think...this is going to sound silly, but I think we should have a grand anniversary party. It's only a few days away, and I can't think of a better way to tell the world that we mean to defend our marriage than to celebrate one year since our wedding day."

Eugene laughed.

Cinderella looked down at her flowing, sparkling gown. "You think it's a foolish idea."

"On the contrary," Eugene said. "I was thinking the exact same thing."

Cinderella looked up to see Eugene's face lit up by a smile.

Her eyebrows rose. "Really?"

"Really," Eugene said solemnly. "It is the best statement of intent that we could make; less obvious than answering Henry's open letter with one of our own but not so subtle that it will be lost on anyone. And we can tell who is receptive to our cause by who actually comes."

"Do you think we should answer the letter as well?" Cinderella asked.

"After the anniversary, when we've seen how the land lies," Eugene said, as he led Cinderella out of the corridor and into the grand hallway, where the stairs up to the ballroom rose up above them and a multitude of doors and lesser staircases led away.

"Cinderella?"

The voice that spoke to them was more timorous than Cinderella had hear it before, softer and more tired, but it was nevertheless a voice that Cinderella could not fail to recognise, and a voice that made both Cinderella and Eugene stop in their tracks.

His Majesty the King stood by the ballroom staircase, almost looking as though he were lurking there, half concealed in the shadows. He stepped out fully into the light, his shoulders hunched, his head slightly bowed. He wrung his hands as he took a step towards them.

Please don't come any closer. Cinderella thought. She tightened her grip on Eugene's arm. Eugene himself looked thoroughly miserable.

"Cinderella," the King repeated. "You...you have returned."

"Yes," Cinderella said softly, and without much enthusiasm. "Your majesty."

The King was silent for a moment. "You look lovely."

"Your Majesty is very kind to say so," Cinderella replied with cool courtesy.

The King wrung his hands once more. "This business...it is very ill. I hope nothing will come of it."

"I feel the same, your majesty."

The king nodded absently. "I...Cinderella, I-" He took another step towards her.

While still holding onto Eugene, Cinderella found herself taking a reflexive step backwards, and half behind her husband as though he were her shield as well.

Please don't come any closer.

The King saw her retreat, and stopped. "Cinderella..." he murmured.

"I am sorry for all that you have suffered, your majesty," Cinderella whispered. But I suffered too, and I cannot forget it.

The King nodded. He did not look at her, nor at his son. "I...I am weary. I will retire, and rest awhile."

He turned to go, seeming diminished from the man that he had been...the second father Cinderella had come to love.

Cinderella bowed her head and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, Eugene. I'm truly sorry but I...I can't, not yet." Someday, I hope; but not yet.

"I understand," Eugene said. "I may not...I hate absolutely everything about this, but I understand. And I won't force you to do anything until you're ready. Unless you're ready."