The First Ball

Eugene rose to his feet as Cinderella glided into the dining room. She looked beautiful, in a blue dress with short sleeves clinging to her shoulders, with her lovely white arms bare, with her hair done up in an elegant twist and a string pearls hanging delicately from her neck; but then she always looked beautiful. Every time he saw her anew she took his breath away. She was the fairest rose in all of Armorique, in all of Gallia even, and she was his, praise be. She was his as he as hers.

And yet, tonight she seemed a little subdued. That infectious smile that made her whole body light up was missing. Her eyes were downcast, and lacked their sparkle. She moved as gracefully as ever, but without the lively animation she possessed when she was happy.

He left his place at the table and walked over to her. "Cinderella?"

Cinderella spread her dress outwards as she curtsied. "Good evening, Eugene."

Eugene took her hands in his own, his thumb feeling the cold gold of her wedding ring and the sharp edges of the diamond in the centre of her engagement ring. "Cinderella, are you all right?"

Cinderella nodded. "Of course, I'm fine."

Eugene frowned. He could not escape the feeling that this was his doing. He had, after all, spoken harshly to her, more harshly than she had deserved. She had not impugned his courage, merely been concerned for him, and yet he had acted as though she had called him a coward. "Cinderella," he said, his voice soft. "I...I am very sorry for my behaviour today. I had no right to shout at you. I apologise." He gave her hands a gentle squeeze before he raised them to his lips and kissed them.

Cinderella gave a slight smile, with her lips closed. "Thank you. But I should apologise too, I-"

"No," Eugene said. "You did nothing wrong."

Her smile widened, making her whole face begin to glow. "I'm so glad."

"So that was the matter?"

Cinderella nodded. "There was something else, but...oh, it doesn't matter, it's all over now."

Eugene said, "If you ever feel unhappy you can always tell me what's bothering you, even if I am the cause. I promise I will do whatever I can to make it right."

Cinderella's eyes sparkled as she stood on tiptoes to give him a kiss.

Behind them, Eugene's father cleared his throat.

Eugene turned to face him. "Really, father, if you tell me that you and mother always behaved with perfect decorum then I will name you a liar before your minister."

Father cleared his throat. "I will admit that my own father chided me more than once, but for heaven's sake son dinner is waiting!"

Eugene smiled as he gestured towards the fourth member of the dining party. "Cinderella, allow me to present Monsieur Robert Danjou, the Minister of Finance. Monsieur Danjou, my charming and beautiful wife, Princess Cinderella."

"Your royal highness," Danjou said, offering a courtly bow. He was a man in his late middle age, his face lined with years and his black hair turning to grey, with grey eyes that were deep and watchful. He was dressed in a frock coat and dinner suit, which he wore better than his humble background would have implied. "I am delighted to meet you. You are as fair as the reports suggested."

Cinderella curtsied. "Thank you, monsieur. I am pleased to make your acquaintance also, though I confess I have heard very little about you."

"And none of it good, I trust," Danjou said with a wry smile.

Cinderella blinked. "I...well..."

Danjou chuckled. "You need neither lie nor betray any confidence, your highness, I am well aware of the opinions held of me by the nobility, including the families who make up your household."

"Oh," Cinderella said. "Doesn't it upset you?"

Danjou shook his head. "I am the minister for finance, highness; if I am not the most detested man in Armorique I'm not doing my job very well."

"While I consider that you do it excellently," father said. "Sit, everyone; not all of us enjoyed a copious snack in the afternoon."

Cinderella blushed slightly. "I promise your majesty I haven't upset my appetite."

"Then your appetite must be more prodigious than your figure would suggest," father murmured. "In any case, all of you, take your seats."

They all sat down. As was proper, his father the king took the place at the head of the long table - it was long enough to seat a full state banquet, which meant that by far the majority of the places were empty tonight - with Eugene sitting at his right hand and Cinderella on his left. Monsieur Danjou sat to the right of Eugene, which was a little awkward as he was the man father most wished to talk to. But protocol and etiquette were iron laws, while practicality was only made of bendable bronze, and so the seating arrangements were what they were. Eugene resigned himself to a night of being talked past by his father and the finance minister, struggling to get a word in edgeways to his wife, who would probably be bored senseless.

To Monsieur Danjou's credit, however, he seemed to recognise the awkwardness of the situation and attempted to do something about it. Although he and father did spend a great deal of time discussing the taxes and the tariffs, whether the war in Anjou made the duties on wine imports less or more important - Eugene felt that, since Burgundy and the Champagne had both burned and been trampled under German feet, there were unlikely to be any fresh imports coming from that direction for some time to come - and the duties being imposed on grain imports by the British, Danjou made some effort to include Cinderella in the conversation. He would frequently stop and ask her if there was anything she did not understand, and then explain it, though Eugene felt sure that Cinderella understood less than she claimed to but did not wish to embarrass herself by revealing the extent of her ignorance. He would also sometimes turn the conversation to other subjects.

"How are you enjoying your new position, your highness?" he asked at one point. "It must be quite a change from your previous occupation."

"It could hardly be a greater change, monsieur," Cinderella replied. "Though I was astonished by the amount that I have to learn about...everything. I feel like I am attempting to drink an ocean dry."

"You may be older than some when they learn these things, highness, but you are still young," Danjou said. "I was of more mature years when I began my education in earnest, yet now I speak latin better than some dukes. Never mistake a late start for an insurmountable obstacle, or a head start for an unassailable lead."

Cinderella smiled slightly. "Thank you, monsieur. If I may ask, what caused you to start so late?"

"Well, my father was a blacksmith, so growing up I had few opportunities to advance my education," Danjou replied. "But I had little choice but remedy the deficiency if I wished to advance myself."

"A blacksmith? And now you are the Minister of Finance?" Cinderella said.

"Indeed, highness, though the nobles prefer to remember the blacksmith part and ignore the minister."

"I think it is very impressive, monsieur."

Danjou chuckled. "Almost as impressive as rising from dishmaid to princess."

Cinderella smiled. "I might agree, if I had had to work to rise so high."

"In your case, highness, as you yourself have pointed, the work has just begun," Danjou replied.

"Indeed, though I hardly know where to begin."

"Far be it for a humble blacksmith's son to dispense advice to the wife of the crown prince," Danjou said. "But if your highness should ever have need of my assistance, you have but to ask."

"Thank you, monsieur Danjou," Cinderella murmured. "I shall not forget that."

"I hope that you do not, your highness."

Lucrezia Adessi curtsied as Cinderella came into the dressing room the next day. "Your highness! And now I can address you as such without fear of being incorrect."

"It's lovely to see you, too, Lucrezia," Cinderella said. "How is your business?"

Lucrezia was silent for a moment. "It...it is going very well, your highness, thank you."

"Has the fact that you work for the royal family now helped you at all?"

"It has...certainly had an effect," Lucrecia said. "But, your highness, I didn't come here to talk about myself."

"I wish you would," Cinderella said. "I feel so isolated in this palace."

"And yet you have a window on a world that I will never inhabit," Lucrecia said. "We each move in our own sphere, and the differing spheres intersect but rarely. Now, highness, how have you found the gowns I sent to you."

"Oh, they're simply wonderful," Cinderella said. "Thank you so much."

"There weren't too many bows and ribbons on them?"

"Oh, no," Cinderella said. "I love bows and sashes, I think they're lovely."

Lucrecia smiled. "I shall bear that in mind in future, your highness, if you continue to honour me with your patronage."

"I can't imagine getting my dresses from anyone else."

"I'm delighted to hear it," Lucrecia said. "And yet I must apologise to you for the short notice nature of this latest delivery. Here it is, the Duchess of Cherbourg's ball this very night and I am only now delivering the ball gowns you requested for me."

"As long as they fit, I don't see that it matters," Cinderella said. "Were you very busy?"

"I think it was more finding the right fabric, highness," Lucrecia said. "I completed the design that you requested, it should look as close as I can make it to the gown you wore to the princes' ball. Did something happen to make it unwearable?"

Cinderella laughed nervously. "You could say something like that."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, darling," Lucrecia said. "I've tried my best to reproduce it, but it was a challenge. I also have a version of the dress in blue tulle, it doesn't look so fine but it should show you off nonetheless."

"I'm sure it's beautiful," Cinderella said. "Do you think that I should wear that instead? After all, it hasn't been very long since the Prince's ball, perhaps I shouldn't look like I'm wearing the same gown to another dance so quickly."

"Perhaps, your highness," Lucrecia said. "Now, do you need help getting out of your dress before you try on what I have for you?"

"Yes, thank you," Cinderella said. After a moment, as Lucrecia helped her out of a plain pink dress, she said, "Lucrecia, would you like to attend a ball yourself?"

"A ball...really?" Lucrecia said.

"I don't see why I shouldn't invite you to the next gala at the palace, if you wanted to go," Cinderella said.

"I'm hardly the sort of class who usually receives such invitations," Lucrecia murmured.

"Neither was I," Cinderella replied. "If you don't want to then you only have to say."

"Oh no, your highness I would be delighted," Lucrecia said. "I never imagined that...you are a very unusual princess, your highness."

"That," Cinderella said. "Is almost an understatement."

The silver gown was beautiful, almost an exact replica of the gown that Cinderella's fairy godmother had more for her - minus glass slippers of course - but in the end Cinderella decided that if people thought she was wearing the same gown to two balls in quick succession then they might laugh at her, and so she decided to wear the gown of blue tulle instead. It was done in the same style, the chief differences being that the skirt was a little less full and the cap sleeves were a little more round and that, of course, it was a shade of blue that matched her eyes.

Given that Cinderella's initial ball preparations had involved hastily running a comb through her hair, throwing on the dress her friends had made for her and then fastening a string of beads around her neck before rushing downstairs to try and catch her stepmother and stepsisters before they left - though in hindsight it might have been better if she'd missed them - and her second set of preparations had involved standing still while her fairy godmother cast a spell on her, Cinderella had not appreciated just how much effort went into preparing a lady for a ball in a more conventional fashion until the preparations were being done to her. She may have been going to a ball, but there was a dance of a different kind going on in her room in the hours leading up to it. Her maids moved in and out, whirling around her like the sea around a rock, going about their tasks quickly and efficiently, handing things off to one of the other two as they moved on to something else. They put on her undergarments, bound her in a corset, pinned up her hair in an elegant twist, and finally dressed her in her blue tulle gown and her long blue opera gloves.

Cinderella's jewellery was modest for the evening, nothing but a pair of flat silver earrings the covered the ends of her blue headband, and a dark blue choker with three diamond studs hanging from the front.

"You look absolutely perfect, my dear," Eugene said, as he helped her into the waiting carriage.

"Thank you," Cinderella said as she sat down. "Are there any rules that I should know before we get there?"

"We will share the first dance," Eugene said. "That is expected."

"And more, I hope."

"Of course," Eugene said. "But the second dance, I will be expected to dance with duchess and you with the duke. After that, you can dance with anyone you like."

"So you do intend to leave me alone all night?"

Eugene chuckled. "No. I only meant that there will be others asking for your hand. And for mine, come to that."

"Just so long as you don't have any second thoughts about our marriage."

"Never."

The carriage carried them outside the capital and to the country estate of the Duchess of Cherbourg. Outside the near palatial country pile were clustered a whole host of servants, hangers-on, retainers and the like, as well as a great queue of carriages and guests who had already arrived making their way into the house. There were also several gentlemen of the press present, looking a good deal seedier than anyone else in view, and as Eugene helped Cinderella down from the coach they pressed against the hired hands keeping the riff-raff at bay to pester them with questions.

"My wife and I are here solely to enjoy ourselves," Eugene said loudly. "And that is all I have to say to any of you. Come, darling."

Cinderella slipped her arm into the crook of his own as together they ascended the stairs into the Duchess' estate. Inside the marble-floored ballroom, illuminated by thousands of candles hanging from a crystal chandelier, was a riot of women in dazzling gowns and men in distinguished suits. The candle-light glittered off diamonds and emeralds, and illuminated the hundred colours of the ladies' dresses. It was like a human representation of a flock of tropical birds, and it was so gorgeous that Cinderella could not help but gasp in happiness at it.

"Their royal highnesses!" the master of ceremonies proclaimed, banging his heavy gilded staff upon the floor. "Prince Eugene and Princess Cinderella, Prince and Princess of Rennes."

All eyes turned to the royal couple, which made Cinderella nervous, but soon after drifted away again, which made Cinderella glad. Eugene led her along the fringes of the room, and fetched her a glass of wine from one of the liveried servants drifting through the press of the nobles. They were greeted by the Duke and Duchess, to whom they both murmured polite pleasantries, and Eugene explained a few words with other nobles that he knew, and introduced Cinderella to them. She tried her best to remember their names, but she could only recall one or two of them once they had gone.

And then the music started.

Eugene raised her hand above his shoulder, and offered her his arm. "Shall we, Cinderella?"

Cinderella beamed. "Of course."

She had forgotten what it was like to dance in his arms. No, not forgotten, that was the wrong word by far. She would never forget that night, never forget that dance, never forget what she had felt. But, though it was her most cherished and beloved memory, it was but a memory. The contrast between the memory and the real thing, between the memory of dancing and the actual fact of twirling amongst the crowd, of stepping lightly between the gowned ladies and the suited gentlemen, was the difference between dreaming of an embrace and the embrace itself. The memory was wonderful, the memory was beautiful, the memory was perfect; but it was but a memory and could never compare to experiencing once more the real thing. And Cinderella adored every moment of it. She adored the way her skirt rustled as she twirled in Eugene's arms, she adored the way that all the world beyond her prince became a blur, she adored the way her heart beat faster as she stared into his eyes. Most of all she adored Eugene: the way he held her, at once so gently that at any point she could have pulled away from him, yet at the same time so tightly that she felt as though he would never let her go, never let anything happen to her; the way he looked at her that said he would never hurt her, never abandon her, never look at anyone else this way; the way he led her without ever once forcing her, because he knew that she wanted to follow; she loved everything about him, and she knew in her heart that he felt the same.

She felt nothing but disappointment when the dance finished.

"That was..." Eugene smiled. "May I have the third dance?"

"Oh, without a doubt," Cinderella said breathlessly.

The second dance, as Eugene had said, she shared with the Duke of Cherbourg, an amiable old gentlemen with whom she viennese waltzed gently across the floor, matching his slightly shuffling steps.

"Thank you, your highness, for making an old man with an unsteady gait appear to be graceful again," he said when the dance concluded. "You are as skilled a dancer as you are as beautiful a woman."

"You are too kind, your grace," Cinderella said, favouring him with a kiss upon the cheek.

Eugene rejoined her for the third dance, and once Cinderella felt lost in her own world as they moved effortless among the whirling gowns and the glittering crowds.

That dance, too, was over far too swiftly, and other hands pressed upon her, eager for the dance, even as the young ladies descended upon Eugene. Cinderella accepted some requests - there were far too many for her to have accepted all of them - from young nobles and junior army officers, fresh faced and clean shaven, with boyish looks and new-brought clothes. They were all handsome enough, and all good dancers, but always Cinderella returned to the arms of Eugene, like a faithful old dog returning to its master's house.

And then, near the end of the night, when Cinderella stood aside and let some minor viscount's daughter lead Eugene away, she heard a familiar lilting voice from behind her.

"As you are not otherwise engaged, your highness, may I have the honour of this dance?"

Cinderella turned around to see Lieutenant Wolf Kilpatrick standing behind her, a wolfish grin upon his face, one hand outstretched to receive her palm.

"Lieutenant Kilpatrick," Cinderella said with a slight smile. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon."

"Call me Wolfe, princess, please," Kilpatrick said. "Will you take my hand?"

Cinderella glanced around. No one else seemed eager to claim her for this dance, and of course Eugene had been taken away. "Of course, lieutenant." She placed her blue-gloved hand lightly into his palm.

Kilpatrick's hand closed upon hers like a crocodile's jaws slamming upon a creature than wanders in, almost crushing her wrist in his strong grasp. Before Cinderella could do more than gasp he had pulled her so quickly into his hold that she almost tripped over her own feet, so fast did he make her run. He put his other hand upon her waist, squeezing as tight as a weed wrapping around a flower and choking the life out of it. He pushed her up against him, pressing her bust tightly against his chest, and held her with an inescapable grip.

Cinderella tried to retreat a step away from him, to loosen his grip and put a space between the two of them, but she was not strong enough to break his grasp. She smiled nervously. "Would you mind not holding me so tight? It hurts a little."

His response was to make his grip tighter. "How can I possibly release you from this dance, highness? This is the Spanish dance, where I must needs hold you close, because this is the dance of mastery."

And then the music began to play and the dance began.

Dancing with Lieutenant Kilpatrick was nothing like dancing with Eugene. The pain in Cinderella's wrist and side ensured that she would never loose herself in the dance the way she did when waltzing with her handsome prince. He held her tightly, oppressively, possessively, so that she could not move without his consent and approval. He looked at her with a hungry, predatory glint in his green eyes. His smile was wicked, as if he knew that she was not enjoying herself and was taking a perverse pleasure in it. He led her by main force, but coercing her into going where he wished, to moving as he dictated. Cinderella felt as though she could hardly wait for the dance to end and Eugene to return to her.

"I really did try, your highness," Kilpatrick whispered as they danced. "I swear to you, upon my life, I tried."

"I don't understand what you mean," Cinderella said.

"I tried to put you out of my mind," Kilpatrick said. "She is married, I told myself, she loves another, she is not for you. But I could not. You haunted my dreams, I saw you when I closed my eyes and so eventually I said to myself: Wolfe you must accept that Princess Cinderella is the one for you. Married or no, there is nothing else for it."

Cinderella frowned. "As I told you, lieutenant, this can never be. Never. If you had told me this before you asked me to dance I would have refused. Perhaps the best thing would be for you not to see me any more."

"Oh no, your highness, separation would destroy me, I see too little of you as it is," Kilpatrick said. "Besides, I have it on good authority it would destroy you also."

"What?"

"There is no need to play coy, princess, no one can hear us over the music," Kilpatrick whispered into her ear. "I know that you desire me, as all women do."

"No I don't!"

"So you say. Others say differently."

"Then they are mistaken," Cinderella said. "Let go of me at once!"

"Before the dance is over? Surely not?" Kilpatrick said. "That would cause a terrible scene."

"Let go," Cinderella pleaded. "I don't love you, whoever has told you differently-"

"You may not love me," Kilpatrick whispered. "But you desire me. Women have always desired me. And truth to tell desire has always been enough for me." He leaned in to speak into her ear, his breath ruffling her strawberry locks and his tongue pressing against her earring. "You are the loveliest creature I have ever set eyes upon. Just say the word and I will leap into your bed and show you such heaven as you cannot imagine."

"Stop this," Cinderella said. "I'll tell my husband."

"And he will challenge me to a duel, to defend your honour, highness," Kilpatrick said. "And if he does I will kill him. Is that what you want?"

Cinderella's eyes widened as she gasped in shock. "What do you want?"

"I want you, princess, I thought I'd made that clear."

"You cannot have me," Cinderella said. "I belong to another."

"Yet you may give yourself to me, if you wish."

"I do not wish it," Cinderella replied. "I will never wish it."

"Many a maiden, armed in resolute morality, has held her body as a fortress proof against my siege," Kilpatrick said. "But all have been shot by my two bullets, and all have learned to love the wounds I've dealt them."

"I never will," Cinderella said.

"If you are quite convinced of that-"

"I am."

Kilpatrick's smile became even more wolfish than before. "Well, that is unfortunate, princess, but it need not be the end. No, highness, this is not the end at all."