The Only One

Cinderella discovered that one of the benefits of being a convalescent was that she saw a great deal of her husband.

Eugene was so solicitous that one might have thought she was dying, rather than gently recovering to health. He took all his meals with her, in her bedroom, and spent half his mornings with her too. Sometimes they talked, other times he read to her, sometimes from the newspapers but more often from one of his favourite books. Cinderella thought privately that she might at last be able to understand the odd literary reference.

It was incredibly sweet of him, to take such care of her, thought sometimes she thought he carried it to excess. One day, Princess Frederica of Normandie had paid her a visit, and although she had come to wish Cinderella a swift recovery it was plain even to Cinderella herself that she would have liked to have spoken to Eugene. And yet he had near enough ignored her completely, barely answering her questions or letting her get a word in edgeways. She had sat at the edge of the room, shut out, unheard, unheeded, and after a while she had fallen silent and a most glum expression had settled on her face. Cinderella had tried to include her, but Eugene would not have it. His eyes, his tongue, his ears, were only for Cinderella. And of course it was very touching, but at the same time she felt so sorry for Frederica, that when the other princess rose to say goodbye Cinderella felt as though she had just behaved as appallingly as her stepmother.

"Princess Frederica," Cinderella said, from where she sat up in bed in her lilac nightgown. "Thank you for coming. I... I'm very sorry."

Frederica smiled thinly, and her voice had a touch of melancholy about it as she said, "Now, what on earth have you to be sorry for, your highness. I hope you get well soon."

"Oh, I will," Cinderella said. "I shall probably be out of bed in a day or two."

Frederica nodded. "About what happened to you... such a tragedy. I trust precautions have been taken to stop it happening again."

"I think so," Cinderella said. "I haven't really asked."

Frederica chuckled. "I suppose you have had more important things to think of. Good day, Princess Cinderella, until next time."

"I really am sorry," Cinderella said.

Frederica shook her head. "To the victors go the spoils, princess. Goodbye." She swept out of the room, her footsteps muffled by the luxuriant carpet.

"Thank goodness she's gone," Eugene said.

"Eugene!" Cinderella exclaimed.

Eugene blinked. "Is something wrong, darling?"

"You were very rude to her," Cinderella said reproachfully. "She came to wish me well, and you treated her abominably."

Eugene laughed bitterly. "Cinderella, your kindness is one of your most lovely qualities, but sometimes you think too well of people. Princess Frederica didn't come to wish you a return to health, she came to see if there was any chance of you dying and giving her another chance to marry me."

Cinderella frowned. "That's a terrible thing to say about someone. I thought she was very nice, what makes you think that she had a motive like that?"

"Frederica of Normandie doesn't do anything just to be kind," Eugene said dismissively. "She has a hard heart. Trust me, Cinderella, I know her better than you do."

"What did she do?" Cinderella asked. "To make you think her so cruel?"

"I don't think she's cruel," Eugene said. "I don't think she's kind either. I think she's self-interested. Amoral. She doesn't care about anyone but herself."

"I don't believe that," Cinderella said stubbornly. "Everyone has some good in them. Everyone. No one is completely bad, or even completely nothing."

"You truly believe that?" Eugene asked. "After the way your stepfamily treated you?"

"Yes," Cinderella said simply. "They weren't just wicked, they aren't completely evil. Even they have some good in their hearts somewhere, I know it. I have faith in that, the same way that I had faith that one day my life would change. I know that some day their hearts will, too."

Eugene smiled. "You may have faith in your stepsisters, my dear, but I'm afraid I don't have the same faith in Princess Frederica."

Frederica Eugenie de la Fontaine flopped onto her back on the bed in the house she was renting in the capital, spreading her arms out across the soft quilt cover as she let out of a loud sigh that was equal parts anguish, anger, frustration and despair.

With a grunt, she reached up and grabbed one of the pillows sitting at the top of the bed. She held it over her head, letting it cast a shadow over her face for a moment, crushing it first this way and then the other with her hands, before she sighed again and threw the pillow at the wall.

"Would your highness like a cup of tea?" Anton asked as he walked into the bedroom. His posture was impeccable, back straight and hands clasped behind him. His face was expressionless, never once presuming to cast any judgement on her.

"Her highness would prefer a stiff brandy," Frederica muttered. She sighed once more. "I can't do it, Anton."

Anton blinked. "I confess, your highness, I have rarely heard you admit to any task being beyond you. To what, specifically, are you referring?"

"Prince Eugene," Frederica said. "Or Princess Cinderella, you might say. August was right. He is married and out of my reach. I lost."

Anton's brown crinkled ever so slightly. "You said to August-"

"I don't know," Frederica said. "Maybe I thought I could do it. Maybe I just didn't want to let Father's pet dog drag me home. Maybe... maybe I was just too proud to think clearly."

"Now you think it is not possible?" Anton asked.

"That depends on what is, but if what means seducing Prince Eugene and persuading him to put his wife aside for me, or even just seducing Prince Eugene more broadly, then yes, I think it is not possible. You should have seen him, today. You would think that if a man was going to have an affair it would be when his wife was bedridden and incapable of catching him at it, but apparently not. He barely looked at me. He... he loves her too much. Seeing him, with her, it reminded me of..."

Anton looked a little glum. "Toulon?" he suggested.

"Yes," Frederica whispered. "It reminded me of Toulon. Except I very much doubt that she is playing him false, as I was played false. Why is that, Anton? Why does my love turn out to be an illusion, while hers is as real as you or I?"

"You know I have no answer, highness. What will you do now?"

"You know I have no answer, Anton," Frederica said with a laugh.

"Will you go home?"

"No," Frederica said at once. "No, I will not go back. I will not crawl home a failure and kneel before my father and have him tell me again what a disappointment I am to him. I would rather throw myself off a bridge."

"I would rather you did not, highness."

Frederica lifted her head off the bed and smiled sadly. "Oh, my faithful Anton, I do believe you are the only person who would be upset if I did."

"I do not believe that, princess. You are well loved."

"Am I?" Frederica asked. "If I am so well loved, then why did love betray me? Oh, Anton, what shall I do?"

"Will you kill her?" Anton asked. "You said you were loath to do so, but..."

"But I have no other choice, is that what you were going to say?" Frederica said. "I don't know. I doubt it would solve anything. Even as a grieving widower I doubt Prince Eugene would look at me twice. And I bear Cinderella no ill will in herself, and I can hardly blame her for interfering in plans of which she was completely ignorant. And yet I cannot go home. What shall I do?"

Anton said nothing. There was nothing that he could have said.

"It must be by his death, and for my part, I know no personal cause to spurn him," Frederica murmured, quoting Julius Caesar. "But for the general, he would be crowned." She laughed. "She's crowned already, how it has changed her nature I know not, but I must change my nature, it seems, if I am to avoid catastrophe. And yet I know no personal cause to spurn her. She is a sweet girl, and kind of heart. Yet it must be done."

"Must it?" Anton asked. "You have never crossed that line before."

"I have never been so desperate before," Frederica replied. "I... I do not want to do it, but I see no other way. Leave me, Anton. Leave me to my sorrows and my unpalatable choices."

The first thing that Cinderella noticed as she made her way down to breakfast was the sniggering.

It was all quite well hidden, of course. When she passed, the servants curtsied to her, and when she bid them good morning they said, "Good morning, your highness." Then, when she had passed them by, she heard them laughing.

She did not dare to ask what they found so funny. Instead she bore it in silence, as she had born her stepsisters' rather more overt mockery, and walked down the stairs and through the corridors with her back straight and her head held high.

When she arrived in the dining room, there was no one there but Eugene, who sat at the corner of the table, engrossed in the newspaper.

"Good morning," Cinderella said calmly.

Eugene looked up from the paper. "Ah, good morning, darling," he said nervously.

"What's wrong?" Cinderella asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Eugene frowned. "Why should anything be wrong?"

Cinderella cocked her head to one side. "Please don't treat me like a child, or a fool. I know something's the matter. Everyone seems to know except me. Please, what is it?"

Eugene took a deep breath. "I... you should read this." He tossed the newspaper down the table.

Cinderella sat down, smoothing her skirt as she did so, and picked up the newspaper delicately in her hands. The front page was some news about the Angevin war, plus more news about Princess Eleanor's planned visit to Armorique.

"Page three," Eugene said.

Cinderella's brow furrowed as she turned over to look at the first inside page of the paper.

Princess in Adultery Scandal?!

Has Bloom Come Off Royal Rose?

Only weeks have passed since Armorique celebrated the wedding of Prince Eugene, who shocked society observers and members of the court with his marriage to a commoner, who had allegedly worked as a servant girl prior to her dizzying elevation.

The Breton Gazette commented at the time that Princess Cinderella, as she became as a result of her stroke of fortune, seemed a pretty girl but fundamentally unsuited for the role that she had assumed. It appears that our analysis has now been vindicated, as sources close to the royal family indicate that the new princess is already flouting her marriage vows to be faithful to the throne's heir.

Indeed, if rumours are true, she has been conducting a sordid affair with an unnamed officer of the Breton army...

"No!" Cinderella cried, flinging the newspaper down in disgust. "How can they? It isn't true!"

For a moment she did not dare look at Eugene, fearing to see the spark of betrayal in his eyes, the look of anger on his face, fearing to hear him condemn her, fearing to hear that he believed these lies...fearing to find out that he did not trust her.

Eventually, though, she had to dare. She had to raise her eyes and meet his gaze. "It isn't true," she said again, more quietly this time.

Eugene's expression softened. "I know," he said. He got up from his chair and walked down the table, pressing her close and kissing her on the forehead. "I know. But unfortunately, the problem is not whether or not I believe you. The problem is that no one else will."

Cinderella's eyes widened. "You mean everyone thinks that I'm a... they all believe that I'm having... but it's such nonsense! They've not one shred of proof! It's just gossip, and empty gossip at that."

"Unfortunately, while they don't have a name for your lover," Eugene said.

"I don't have a lover!" Cinderella said.

"Your alleged lover," Eugene corrected himself. "Nor do they name their source for these scurrilous accusations, they are able to muster a few quotes further down courtesy of your charming stepfamily."

Cinderella gingerly picked up the paper again, and scanned to the bottom of the rubbish masquerading as an article.

"Ever since I was kind enough to take that girl into my home," the Princess' stepmother, Lady Tremaine, told correspondents. "She was nothing but ungrateful to me. In fact I do not believe she has it in her to be grateful, she will always use any good fortune she has to trample the bounds of acceptable behaviour."

"The boys always liked Cinderella, and she always liked them," Princess Cinderella's stepsister Drizella said. "The things that we used to hear going on in her room; you wouldn't believe it!"

"I'm sure there's good in them somewhere," Eugene remarked pointedly.

Cinderella looked at him.

Eugene rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry, that was unhelpful and uncalled for. Still, with hindsight it was probably a mistake to try and ignore them completely. We ought to have dealt with them one way or the other. Still, spilled milk and all that. The question is what do we do now?"

"Do you have any idea who the source of this rumour is?" Cinderella asked.

"No," Eugene said. "I don't even know if it really is a source close to us or not. On page eleven they make a list of possible candidates for your alleged lover, and it seems to be based on nothing more than people who are often seen in the palace."

Cinderella felt a chill feeling gathering in her stomach, like a ball of ice coalescing there, as she turned to the page that Eugene had mentioned. Lieutenant Kilpatrick was not on the list, to Cinderella's great relief, although Etienne Gerard was. So, more surprisingly, was Sieur Robert Danjou. And the Grand Duke.

"I don't even know half the people on this list," Cinderella said. "And some of them are old men."

A smile played on Eugene's face as he said. "I'll be sure to tell Etienne you said that."

"Etienne I can understand, he is somewhat handsome," Cinderella said. "But the others oh my-" She stopped as she realised what she'd just said. A glance upward confirmed the bemused expression on Eugene's face. "I mean, not that I... I've never... I mean that I don't..."

Eugene chuckled. "You're very beautiful when you're flustered, has anyone ever told you that?"

"Don't tease me," Cinderella said. "Not now. Isn't this serious?"

"Very serious," Eugene said, sitting down beside her. "But that is all the more reason to lighten it with a little levity. Still, to be serious: Cinderella, as upsetting a question as this may be, can you think of anything you might have done that might have given rise to such a rumour?"

There was of course, something that Cinderella could think of, even though she had done nothing whatsoever to encourage it. But Kilpatrick had said he would kill Eugene if it came out, and so Cinderella shook her head and said, "No, nothing."

"As I thought," Eugene said. "Simple rumour-mongering from the Gazette. Still, it will be believed. The court will love to hear that you, who are not one of them, are in trouble, and the people love to believe anything scandalous about their betters."

"Perhaps if they knew me better," Cinderella said. "Or even if I really knew what they were saying, I could answer it."

Eugene frowned. "What are you saying, Cinderella?"

"That I would like to go into the city," Cinderella said. "And mingle among the people, find out what they really think of me, how I can earn their good opinion."

Eugene's mouth hung open for a moment. "No," he said.

"Why not?"

"Because it's dangerous."

"So is the palace, apparently," Cinderella replied.

"Not in the same way," Eugene said. "To be safe in the streets you would no need so many guards that it would defeat the object. And without them you could be killed, or kidnapped for ransom by any passing thug."

"I could go in disguise," Cinderella said.

"You can't be sure that no one would recognise you, and you might be even more at risk since people might not realise it was a princess being attacked," Eugene said. "I'm sorry, Cinderella, but no. I can't let you put yourself in danger like that, not even for a good cause."

"So I am to be stuck inside these walls forever?" Cinderella asked.

Eugene looked very sad as he said, "For now, yes."

Cinderella smiled. "I see."

"You're not upset?"

"No," Cinderella said. "I know you only want to keep me safe. It's very sweet really."

Nevertheless, as soon as she got back to her room - though she had to run another gauntlet of sniggering servants to do it - she got down on her knees and called out to her mouse friends.

"Jaq, Gus, everyone," Cinderella said. "I need you to help me find a way to sneak out of the palace and into town without being spotted."

A/N: this chapter heralds the end of the current stage of the story and the beginning of a new one, as the backstreets characters finally intersect with Cinderella's plot.