Cinderella commands…
Instead of taking my usual position behind the curtain, I made a beeline for the seat at the head of the table. Hardly anyone batted an eye. It was about time I took the credit for my actions. I called the meeting to order, something the king would usually do, but he was not present. "What is this matter that requires an emergency meeting?" I demanded.
"There is a woman who claims that she hears the voice of God," the Minister of Internal Affairs said nervously. "She wants to lead us in the struggle against the barbarians."
I silently contemplated this piece of information. We could not have lay individuals claiming to receive instructions from God. Part of the power of the monarchy comes from the claim that the king is chosen by God. On a more practical level, we receive support from the Church by patronizing its highest members. Recognition from God can only be bestowed upon the elite few, or the throne loses its mystique and the loyalty of its people. The same goes for the Church and the donations made in return for salvation. Such indulgences go toward funding the budget. However, we needed hope. Apparently, traditional means were not working.
"We can use her for now and discard her later if need be," the Cardinal drawled coldly. "We are suffering from a shortage of officers, after all." As much as I hated to admit it, that was exactly what I had been thinking.
"Give her some men," I said, and stood up. We would see what this girl could do.
one month later...
As the slaves carried my sedan through the streets, I heard the peasants singing the praises of some man named Napoleon. "Who is this Napoleon Bonaparte?" I asked my servant, who was trotting alongside me.
"A warrior who claims to liberate nations by invading them," she replied carefully. "He espouses the ideals of the republic." I narrowed my eyes. A republican threat was the last thing we needed on top of a religious schism. If only I could have him burned at the stake as if he were a heretic peasant!
The Cardinal observes…
Cinderella rapped her nails impatiently on the oak table as she prompted the Chancellor to provide the new bad news.
"Some man nailed 95 theses to the door of a church," he said cautiously. "Among other things, he criticized indulgences and denied the reality of transubstantiation."
"Have him excommunicated," she ordered immediately. She glanced briefly at me as if expecting me to say something critical, which I usually did, but I held my peace. For once, our interests had coincided. She paused. "Oh, and that girl who hears voices, have her burned at the stake," she added as an afterthought.
"But she just won us a victory!"
"With the devil's help, no doubt," she snapped. "We have to make an example of heretics who say they can speak with God."
I smiled. Things were going perfectly.
After the meeting, I sought the relaxing company of the palace ducks. They quacked excitedly as I tossed them crumbs. My sole human companion, the head advisor, frowned as if disapproving of my frivolity.
"You do not seem to have much to say at court these days, Your Grace," he noted. "Surely you have objections to the princess leading the meetings in the absence of the king and crown prince."
I trailed my fingers through the clear water in the fountain and wriggled a finger at the fuzzy ducklings that were wading behind their parents. "The male duck is beautiful. It stands out," I stated. "The female duck is a dull brown, unattractive but inconspicuous. When the hunter aims his gun, which do you think he will see first? Which will he covet more as a trophy?"
"The male duck."
"Precisely. Unlike myself, Cinderella is not satisfied with de facto power. She needs recognition as well. Should anything go wrong, the blame will go to the one who makes herself the most visible. Her pride, her desire to flaunt her power will be her downfall. I on the other hand, shall remain quiet when it suits me and quietly adjust matters when they do not." I stared at the horizon where the red sun was dipping into the hills. I envisioned the look on Cinderella's haughty face when she had declared that she was the state. "L'etate, ce n'est pas vous," I murmured quietly to myself. "No, it is me. What suits me suits the state."
"There are rumors that she is with child," he reminded me. "If she provides a male heir, she will gain the favor of the court."
"Then we'll have to make sure that she provides no heir." I emptied the rest of the crumbs into the water.
I turned my head abruptly when I heard a gunshot. I frowned as a dog ran into the water to retrieve a bloody duck, wagging its tail as it presented the prize to its master, the Duke of Erring. "What barbarity!" I cried. "What decent man would kill an innocent animal!" I strode over to the duke, pulled out a knife, and stabbed him in the stomach before he could even respond.
"A bit extreme, perhaps," the advisor offered. "He was one of your most loyal men."
"And a vicious killer of innocent animals." I tossed him the knife. "Make sure he does not live. Nor any witnesses you find." I pried the duck from the jaws of the beastly dog and went off to find a soft patch of ground to bury it.
Historical mentions:
Joan of Arc, Napoleon, and Martin Luther