Guardian Angel

Princess Frederica Eugene de la Fontaine stood at the window of her rented house, leaning her forehead against the glass, her arms folded, wondering what she ought to hope for.

No, that was not quite right. She knew what she ought to hope for. The question was, did she hope for it?

The answer that she felt was no. She did not want Cinderella to die. She had given the order because she felt she had no other choice, but she took no pleasure in it. She did not want this. She did not want to supplant the poor girl. She did not want…any of it.

What I want. What a jest it is to think of what I want. I wanted…her. I loved her, but she betrayed me. All hope of getting what I want perished at Toulon. Now I am simply doing what I must.

God keep you, Princess. Wherever you are.

Frederica wondered to herself whether, if it were possible, she would call off her dog. Could she? Would she have that courage? Could she crawl home and face her father as a failure? Was she brave enough to do that, and save an innocent life in the process?

She had no idea, and that fact did not hearten her.

God keep us both, Cinderella and I.

Anton glided into the room, coughing softly to announce his presence.

Frederica stepped back from the window, adjusting her posture to appear less forlorn and defeated. It was force of habit more than anything else, Anton knew as well as anyone that she really was forlorn and defeated, and had been ever since Toulon, but it did not really do to let the servants, even the trusted ones, see you in that light. You always had to act as though you were in control, as though you had a plan. Moments of weakness were rare, and even more rarely permitted. If you did not carry on that pretence then your authority would swiftly die.

"Yes?" she said. "Yes, Anton, what is it. You have news?"

"I do, Your Highness," Anton said.

Frederica felt her stomach tighten up with nerves. "Go on, then, what news?"

"Princess Cinderella has returned to the palace safely," Anton said.

Frederica gasped. "Oh, thank God for that." She closed her eyes for a moment, wiping clenching her hands tight together, reeling backwards as though in a daze. She opened her eyes again to look at Anton. "She is unharmed?"

"Our source said that she had no injuries, and did not need to be seen by a doctor," Anton said.

"Good, that is...good," Frederica said. "Do we know what happened?"

"Apparently Princess Cinderella left the palace on some sort of fact-finding mission," Anton said. "That part was not well understood by our informant. What is known is that she returned accompanied by a half-dozen street urchins, who are under the princess' protection. It appears that they did her some sort of kindness while in the town."

Frederica frowned. "Street urchins? Whatever for?"

"Perhaps the princess is building a menagerie?" Anton suggested.

"Yes, maybe she'll turn up with a few stargazers or fortune tellers next," Frederica replied. "Have we had any word from our man?"

"He has staggered back to us, injured, your highness," Anton said.

"Injured?" Frederica said. "Did sweet Cinderella and her street urchins fight him off?"

"It appears that our man was not the only one on the princess' trail," Anton said. "Two other footpads also sought her; they ended up fighting with our knife and, in the confusion, their real target escaped."

"I see," Frederica murmured. There was another faction that was prepared to use violence against Cinderella? That was worrying. What was even more worrying was that Frederica had no idea who these people were. For an intelligencer that was a grave failing. "Did he recognise these other footpads?"

"A pair of notorious kidnappers, apparently."

"Hmm," Frederica said. "It might have been a simple kidnap for ransom they intended then, and no larger motive behind it. Still, we shall not take chances. I want every available ear bent to the ground to find out everything we can about this kidnapping attempt: I want the names of everyone involved."

"For what purpose, if I may ask, your highness?"

"For the purpose of being prepared for every eventuality," Frederica declared.

Anton bowed his head. "Very good, your highness. And…our man?"

"Cut his throat and dump the body somewhere it will not be found," Frederica said quickly. "And we'll speak no more of this unfortunate business."

A smile flickered across Anton's face. "You will not be making a second attempt upon the princess' life?"

"No," Frederica muttered. "I am not Eleanor. I will not cut some poor girl's throat while she sleeps and then sleep soundly afterwards myself. I…it was a mistake to ever think of striking at her. She is…she does not deserve to die. She is a good girl."

"Indeed, your highness, I think that you would know."

"Wipe that smirk off your face, Anton," Frederica snapped. "I am, as you well know, not a good girl."

"Your highness is too harsh upon yourself."

"Her Highness knows herself better than you," Frederica replied. "But I am not so bad that I will be sending hired killers after Cinderella night and day. I would…I would rather confront my father."

Anton hesitated. "Will we…be leaving, then?"

"No," Frederica replied. "No, not until August returns to drag me home. We will stay here awhile."

"And do what, your highness?"

"Why, enjoy ourselves, Anton, of course," Frederica said. "Enjoy our freedom, while we still have some."

Angelique felt absolutely ridiculous.

She could just about accept – just about – that she could no longer wear the kind of clothes she had worn out on the street now that she was, apparently, going to be living in the palace. But it was bad enough that she would now have to bow and scrape to a princess for the foreseeable future, but that she would have do it while wearing a ruffled white dress that made her look – in her opinion – like some sort of cake was just a little bit too much, if you asked her.

She stood with her back against the wall in the communal room shared between the princess' ladies in waiting, where they dressed, ate, and relaxed when they were not attending on the princess herself. It was, as far as rooms went, a fairly nice one. Certainly it was nicer than any room Angelique had ever had cause to spend time in before. There was a piano in the corner, and various chairs of various degrees of fluffiness, but none looking uncomfortable. A couple of books lay sprawled across the table, along with some playing cards. Various kinds of makeup compacts sat next to a set of mirrors. The air was of a home, even if a temporary one, a place sufficiently permanent for everyone to be comfortable just leaving their things lying around with no fear that they would be lost, stolen, or even made much mock of. That made it…warm. Yes, warm. If Angelique had been looking around an empty room, she would have found the atmosphere quite comfortable.

Unfortunately, the room was not empty. The room was full of people, her fellow ladies in waiting. That was why Angelique had backed herself up against the wall, so that they couldn't get behind her. None of had tried that yet, but it was only a matter of time.

They stared at her. Angelique glared right back at them. They doubtless thought that they were so much better than she was, these high ladies, these daughters of great lords and gentlemen. Well, if they thought that Angelique herself believed that then they were quite mistaken. She was just as good as any of them, better in fact. None of them had ever taken care of a ragtag group of children, she was sure, and none of them had ever tried to keep a family together while the man in the family was a delusional fool who, nonetheless, was far too good and brave to do without.

They stared at her like a pride of lionesses staring at a lamb, but Angelique would show them that she was a wolf if she had to, with teeth as sharp as theirs.

"Oh," Christine gasped. "You look so adorable!"

Alright, maybe they aren't all lionesses.

Theodora's green eyes sparkled with amusement. "So, you're the little alley cat our princess dragged home from her secret excursion?"

Angelique looked at her flatly. "If you're expecting me to play with a ball of yarn you'll be disappointed. On the other hand, I won't wee on the bedsheets either."

Theodora laughed. "Oh, yes, we should definitely keep you. So much vinegar. Is that what living on the streets does for you, because I can think of some people who would benefit from learning to use their tongue like that."

"Perhaps that's why the princess left," Hortense suggested. "She recognised how insipid and dull a conversationalist she is so she sought out our little alley cat here to teach her how to spike her tongue a little."

"It would make a change," Theodora said. "'Oh, isn't it lovely?' 'How wonderful!' 'Oh! I'm so pure and innocent, and I expect everyone to love me! Aren't I nauseating?'"

Hortense laughed like a horse. "Oh, stop it, Theo, you'll make me look undignified."

You do realise that I'm standing right here, don't you? You are aware that I can hear you talking about me, and mocking Princess Cinderella? You do realise that I'm not really a cat and you can't just treat me like the furniture? Or do you not realise that at all?

"So," Hortense continued. "Is that right, little cat? Can we be expecting some ginger in the princess' manner from now on?"

Angelique looked at her, but said nothing.

Hortense frowned. "I asked you a question, cat."

"The cat isn't here, there's only Angelique," Angelique said.

Theodora chuckled. "And again! We're going to have lots of fun together, I can tell."

Hortense's face darkened. "Watch yourself, girl. My father has the ear of the King."

Angelique said, "Am I supposed to be intimidated?"

"Are you not intimidated by us?" Serena asked, her voice as soft as spun silk. "Are you not intimidated, poor and friendless as you are, in the face of such a company of wealthy and well-connected nobility?"

"My lady," Angelique said, investing every bit of scorn that she could muster into those two words. "If you had lived as I have, you would not find yourself intimidating either."

Augustina rose to her feet. "Let's not pester the poor girl further, she isn't in a zoo, after all. But I would be grateful if you would give me a moment outside, Angelique. Shall we?"

Angelique nodded in agreement, as much because Augustina Dubois had addressed her by name as anything else. She followed the older, taller girl outside onto the landing, and watched silent as Augustina closed the door.

The other girl got down on her knees, smoothing out the folds in her lilac skirt with her pale hands as she smiled at her.

"You should be more careful," she said.

"Careful of what?" Angelique asked warily.

"I'm sure it was very amusing for you to put Serena and Hortense's noses out of joint a little," Augustina said. "And lord knows that Theo can be a bit of a prat sometimes. But they are wealthy and well connected as Serena said. That may not worry you but it should. You are in our world now, not yours, and you will have to try and play by our rules or you will lose the game for certain."

"What if I don't want to play whatever game you're playing?" Angelique asked.

"You decided to play the moment you accepted Princess Cinderella's offer of a place in her household," Augustina said. "You have, whether you knew it or not, come to a dangerous place."

"I came from a dangerous place," Angelique said. "I don't see the danger here."

"It is of a different sort, but no less real," Augustina said. "You have a brief period of grace here, while Princess Cinderella protects you. But at the moment you are wholly dependent upon her patronage. You must find some allies here or when Cinderella falls you will tumble down with her."

"When Cinderella falls?" Angelique asked. "Not if?"

"When," Augustina repeated. "She is a sweet girl and kind…but she has no brains and she has no allies. She will fall, it is only a matter of time. Already the sharks are moving against her."

"Doesn't the prince love her?"

Augustina shook her head. "You will find, the more time you spend here, that love has very little place in politics."

Angelique frowned. "I think…I won't pretend to love her highness, but I think you might underestimate her."

"Perhaps," Augustina replied. "But if I'm right and you're wrong…best not take the risk. So keep your tongue in check, and try to make some friends. Or at least pretend to be friends and keep your real feelings to yourself."

"Why are you telling me this?" Angelique asked. "Why do you care what happens to me?"

Augustina shrugged. "My family was in your place, not so long ago. I'd like to see yours get to where mine is now, if I can. Shall we go back inside?"

Angelique shook her head. "No. You go. I…I don't want to, right away."

"Suit yourself," Augustina said.

As the other girl left her alone, and closed the door to isolate Angelique upon the landing, Angelique felt herself shiver, and not from the cold.

When Cinderella falls? Can it be true? And what will happen to us then? To me, to Jean, to all of us? Jean...I could go back to the rookery if I had to, but it would break his heart if that happened. And the little ones…

I can't let that happen. I won't let that happen. I won't let our hope be taken away from us.

Princess Cinderella will not fall. I don't care if she is as weak as they think, as stupid as they think, as dull as they think. I'll be her brains and I'll be her strength and I'll even be her quick wit if I have to. She isn't going anywhere, and neither am I.

Angelique looked up the stairs, to the princess' own chambers. Resolutely, her expression set firm upon her face, she began to climb.

As she climbed the stairs she began to hear a sound coming down from the princess' rooms up above. Humming. No, not humming actually, as Angelique got closer she could hear that it was Cinderella singing, a sweet songbird-like sound that seemed to mock Angelique's fears. How could someone who was in any danger sing so happily and beautifully.

The songbird sings beautifully in its cage. But it's still just a bird in a cage, and it doesn't have the wit to get out.

She's not a bird.

Do you really think your fears are groundless? What about Augustina's warning?

She could have been trying to mess with my mind, why should I trust Augustina?

She was nicer to you than any of the others.

Ah, but that could be part of the act, don't you see.

How about I just keep my eyes open and my wits about me and don't take anything for granted.

Good idea.

So, I'll act as though she might be in trouble and might need my help until I know for sure that she doesn't.

Even better idea.

Very nice voice though. Was it her that Jean and I heard singing that night? It sounds the same.

Don't tell Jean that Cinderella was his angel all along, he'll be even worse than he is now.

Angelique had reached the top of the stairs, standing outside the ornate oak door that led into the princess' chambers. She knocked, and called out loud enough to make herself heard over Cinderella's singing. "Princess? Can I come in?"

The singing stopped. "Angelique?"

"Yes, it's me."

"I've locked the door," Cinderella said. "Hold on, I'll be there in just a moment."

Angelique tried the brass handle on the door. It descended, and the door opened to her gentlest touch. Angelique's brow furrowed a little as she stepped in. "No, it's open." She looked on the other side of the door, and saw a brass key glinting in the keyhole. "But the key is in here. Perhaps you forgot to actually lock it."

"Yes, I must have done," Cinderella said. "Come in, Angelique."

I'm in already, Angelique thought, but did not say, as she shut the door and locked around the opulent furnishings of the royal room. The bed looked soft enough to cushion an elephant, and for a moment Angelique was seized with a childish desire to jump all over it just to see how terribly, wonderfully soft it was.

She frowned. There was a rose sitting on the pillow nearest the door, along with a note of some kind, folded in two. Angelique stepped towards it, and hesitated. She glanced towards the royal dressing room. The door was closed, and the princess had started humming.

Angelique looked at the note, then at the door, then back at the note and at the thorny rose that lay beside it.

With a hand that moved like a snake striking its prey, Angelique snatched the note up from the bed and opened it in her hands.

Divine perfection of a woman.

To look upon your face may strike men blind. To look into your eyes may strike dead the unwary. To look upon the fullness of your lips may light a fire within the blood of him who looks. But to look upon your in the whole…to see the mild and fair and flawless nature of your skin in every smooth and supple curve; to see the gentle swaying of your hips as you walk, to see the way your hands move across your body just above the water; to see the inward pinching of your waist.

Thy breasts are like two young roes that are twins, which are feed among the lilies.

Your devoted and besotted wolf,

K

PS: your hound will wake, I merely made sure that would disturb us once he had eaten his fill.

Angelique glanced quickly around the bed and saw an old bloodhound sprawled on the carpet, slobbering onto it out of the corner of his mouth while he slumbered. She swiftly turned her attention back to more important matters, like the note in her hand.

Angelique recalled the rumours that had begun to fly around the town, rumours of a royal affair, so soon after the wedding. Jean had dismissed them out of hand, based, it seemed, on nothing more than the idea that no true princess would ever have an affair. Angelique, who took it upon herself to be wiser than him – not that that was too difficult – was less certain. What was this, if not a love note? Who but a lover would dare to write this way?

Although why would a lover need to drug the dog to sleep?

Angelique's brow crinkled. She glanced towards the door. "Princess…are you alone in there?"

"Alone?" the door opened and Cinderella came out – Angelique hid the note behind her back - clad in a pink bathrobe, drying out her hair with a towel. "Of course I'm alone. Who else did you think was here?"

"Well, I, um…"Angelique hesitated, teetering on the edge of leaving the whole matter be, of lying.

If she is having an affair, I have a right to know. Not because I care about her marriage, or her life, but because if she gets in trouble – and she could get into a lot of trouble for this – then all of us who have been taken 'into her care and under protection' will suffer for it, and it isn't right to ask us to trust her word and her care for us when she is carrying on in such a way that puts our necks in danger. I have a right to know so that I can protect my family from whatever she's doing.

"Who is K?" Angeliqe asked.

Cinderella froze, her blue eyes widening in shock. "What are you talking about?"

"This note," Angelique said holding it out to her. "I found it on your bed when I came in. What are you doing, princess? If you are endangering us through endangering yourself I won't forgive you." Angelique wasn't even sure if she would keep silent about it. Jean would want her to, probably, but Angelique had to take the wiser view, and it might be wiser to tell all and hope for some kind of reward for it.

Cinderella took the note gently from Angelique's hand. She read it, and instantly her fair face turned pale as wax. Her hand trembled, and the note dropped from her shaking fingers to descend like a falling leaf onto the lilac carpet of the room.

"He was here?" she murmured, hugging herself with both hands as she retreated a few paces against the wall. "He was…he saw me? Is that why the door was open? Did he…he saw, oh!" Cinderella cried out as though she had been done some injury, embraced herself close as though trying to reassure herself, her face contorted in a mixture of fear and horror. Her eyes began to water with unfallen tears.

It needed no word of denial for Angelique to tell that this was not the reaction of a woman getting a note from her lover. Unless she were a better actress than I take her for. "Princess Cinderella," she said gently. "What's the matter? Who is this person?"

"How did he get in here?" Cinderella asked. "I didn't hear anything. Or did I? And how did he get…oh, no, is he still here?" She shivered. "Has he been watching me all this time? Do you think he's seen me sleeping, and getting dressed? I can't…" She staggered sideways and collapsed onto her knees, gripping her dressing table with one trembling hand for support. The towel dropped to the floor and Cinderella's hair descended messily all around her. The princess' face was bowed, half hidden behind her falling locks as she began to sob.

"Princess," Angelique murmured. Jean would be better at this than me. "Your highness, please stop crying. I'm sure he's gone." The fact that the door was unlocked suggested that he had unlocked it on his way out. "But to be sure, I'll check." She looked around the room for something heavy, and wished that she had Jean's cosh or even his broken-off broom handle. Eventually she picked up a chair, and held it in front of her like a shield as she tiptoed into the boudoir.

A cast iron bath sat in the centre of the room, filled with cooling water, but there was no one hiding in the water or behind the bath. Angelique looked around, and her gaze settled upon the extravagantly spacious wardrobe, and on the keyhole in the door. If anyone was hiding anywhere in here, it would be there, she was certain of it.

Angelique crept up, raised the chair above her head, flung open the door and-

Found nothing but row upon row of beautiful dresses.

And another note, which she opened cautiously.

There was once an old king who had a very young and beautiful wife. So young and beautiful was she, and so old was the king, that he was filled with jealousy and suspicion of her. So he had secret passages built throughout the Queen's Tower, so that he could spy on his young and beautiful wife and make sure that she was not deceiving him. For years the secrets of those passages have been lost, but all things lost can be found again.

"Oh, well that's just terrific," Angelique muttered. "Can't you just hide in a tree like an ordinary peeping tom?"

She put the chair down and walked back out into the bedroom. "He's not here now. At least I don't think he is anyway." She glanced around suspiciously. "What's going on?"

"I can't…" Cinderella murmured in between sobbing.

Angelique suppressed a roll of her eyes as she got down on her knees. "Please, your highness, calm down. I can't help you unless you tell me what's going on."

Cinderella shook her head. "There's nothing that you can do. There's nothing anyone can do."

"I doubt that," Angelique said. "Who is he?"

"He's…I think he's here to remind me that my life will never be completely happy," Cinderella murmured. "That will always be a cloud in the sky."

"You could say the same for all of us, but I think that this is a bit much," Angelique replied. "Has this happened before?"

Cinderella nodded. "Yes. He visits. He leaves notes. He…he scares me."

"Then why haven't you done something about it?" Angelique demanded.

"I can't," Cinderella repeated. "If Eugene finds out…Kilpatrick will kill him. I can't risk that, Eugene…I couldn't live without him."

"So you're going to live with terror instead?" Angelique asked. She sighed. "Listen, your highness…is Kilpatrick his first name or second?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to make this go away for you," Angelique said.

Cinderella wiped. "Oh, no, I couldn't let you get involved in my problems-"

"Your problems are my problems now," Angelique said. "You saw to that when you brought me here." She hesitated. "And besides, you did a good thing for us. A very good thing. The least I can do is do a good thing for you now that I have the chance. Now give me his name."

"Wolfe," Cinderella said, after a moment's hesitation. "Lieutenant Wolfe Kilpatrick."

"Is he now?" Angelique said. She smirked. "Don't worry, Princess, Jean and I are going to take care of everything."

Jean planted a kick into Kilpatrick's rear end as he tried to half-stagger, half-crawl away from the savage beating he had received courtesy of Jean and Angelique. "And if I hear about your bothering Her Highness again you'll get worse, understand? Now off with you!"

"I can't quite believe that she thought he was dangerous," Angelique said, resting a big stick on her shoulder. Really, having taken him by surprise it had proven quite easy to get him on the ground and give him a going over. "That wasn't very hard at all."

"Of course not," Jean said, watching the voyeur crawl away from the scene of his humiliation. "We've known people like him all our lives. Cowards at the core, all of them. They only go after people they can scare."

"Probably you're right," Angelique said. "Now remember what I told you: not a word of this to anyone."

Jean nodded. "You can count on me, Angelique. Do you think he'll keep quiet?"

"He won't want everyone to know a girl beat him up, will he?" Angelique replied.

Jean grinned. "I suppose not. Still, it rankles a bit that this is all the punishment he gets for what he's done. I hope he takes the warning to heart."

Angelique nodded. "I hope so too. It won't put a stop to the rumours, but it will mean less chance of anyone finding anything they might take for proof. And right now, that's enough, I think. I should be getting back to bed. Goodnight, Jean."

"Goodnight," Jean said. "Um, Angelique?"

"Yes."

"That dress…it looks very nice on you," Jean whispered, his face reddening. "It makes you look like an angel."

Angelique rolled her eyes. "Yes, that's me. The princess' guardian angel. Goodnight."