Eleanor's Ball

The ballroom was filled with the high and mighty of the realm. Candlelight glittered from strings of diamonds around their necks, or from the gilded buttons on their waistcoats. They had all come at the King's invitation, to see the Lioness of Anjou and observe how she would bear her most recent humiliation.

Cinderella stood in the centre of this opulence, though people had graciously left her a good deal of room, and were not crowding around her. Eugene stood at her side, and Princess Eleanor stood close by, with rubies clasped around her throat and dangling from her ears. If she was aware that people were whispering about her then she gave no sign of it, but stood as still as any statue that decorated the palace, her eyes fixed straight ahead yet seeming to see nothing.

Cinderella's own gaze roamed across the room, looking for people that she knew. Lucrezia, looking stunning in a gown of royal blue, but distinguished by her lack of any sort of jewellery, stood in one corner of the ballroom, half in shadow, a glass of champagne in her hand. She smiled at Cinderella, and waved her free hand in a small gesture.

Jean stood upon the door, not because he was on guard, although it might have looked that way to an observer. He had exchanged his ragged garments of the street for the blue uniform of an Ensign of the Foot Guards, with crimson facings on his cuffs and collar. He kept one hand upon the hilt of his slender, curved sword, and his expression was stern. He did not seem to see her.

Princess Frederica of Normandie looked sour as she stood by one of the large windows, the stars of the night sky twinkling behind her. Her arms were folded, and her face was downcast. She looked as though she would like to be anywhere else, although Cinderella did not know why.

Her Ladies in Waiting stood clustered together, each of them looking very pretty, and collectively looking radiant. All save for Angelique, whose lovely green dress could not disguise the fact that she stood alone, apart from the rest of them.

I hope they will make friends with her, in time. They are not bad people; I suppose they're simply not used to someone who is not a noble like they are.

She ought to have invited her Stepmother and Stepsisters, but her desire to mend fences with them had come too late for the invitations to be sent out, and so she would have to find some other way to signal her desire for a rapprochement with them, the only family that she had left.

Not that there would have been much time to talk with them anyway, amidst all this.

Eugene placed a hand upon her waist. "It's time, darling."

Cinderella smiled. "Excuse me, everyone," she said. "Thank you all so much for coming. I know that His Majesty, though he is not here, greatly appreciates your presence." His Majesty had decided to retire early to bed rather than attend the festivities, leaving Cinderella and Eugene to represent the royal family. "We are here to bid welcome to our royal guest Princess Eleanor of Anjou. Princess Eleanor, on behalf of His Majesty and on behalf of all of Armorique: welcome!"

Eleanor smiled thinly. "Thank you, Princess Cinderella. And may I say how gratifying it is to be receiving so kingly a welcome from this great nation. In fact, I may go so far as to say that never in my," she chuckled. "My arduous travels over these past few years have I been received in quite the manner with which I have been received here. You may rest assured that Anjou will not forget, when we find ourselves in a position to grant kindnesses in our turn." She looked around the room, still smiling. "But this is a ball, not a public meeting, and so what say you, Princess Cinderella? Shall we begin the revels?"

"That sounds wonderful," Cinderella said, turning to the musicians upon the dais. "Play on, please."

The conductor nodded, and the orchestra began to play. The hubbub of murmured conversation began to spread throughout the room as those who wished to dance paired off, and those who did not made their way to the edges of the dancefloor.

Cinderella turned to Eugene. "Shall we?"

Eugene looked apologetic. "I'm afraid that custom and courtesy demand that I dance with Princess Eleanor first, my dear."

Cinderella tried not to let her disappointment show too greatly on her face. "I see, well of course, it would be rude of you not to, wouldn't it."

"It's an awful pain, I know," Eleanor said breezily. "But it must be done. Rest assured, Cinderella, I'm only planning to steal your husband away for a single dance."

Eugene grinned. "But save the second for me, won't you?"

Cinderella's smile widened. "I shall certainly try, but you know I'm very in demand."

Eugene chuckled, and offered Princess Eleanor his arm. "Shall we?"

"Yes, let's," Eleanor sighed, with the air of a woman about to undertake a very unpleasant chore. "Come, Prince Eugene, let us face the music. Literally."

Together they stepped out onto the dancefloor, and Cinderella watched them join the flow and motion of the couples swirling there to the strokes of the music. Eugene looked relaxed, but she flattered herself that he did not look so happy as he did when they danced together. For her part Princess Eleanor's face was a mask of concentration, as if she was putting so much effort into dancing well that she had no energy left to actually enjoy the dance.

Cinderella took a step back, her hands clasped together in front of her, and waited for someone to ask her to dance.

No one did.

She waited, but no one came near her. No handsome young officer came to ask for her hand, no aged lord came to pay her a courtesy. Once or twice someone came close, and Cinderella stepped forward to accept the invitation…but every time they passed her by, without so much as an acknowledgement of her presence. The dance played on, and Cinderella watched from beyond the floor, alone.

I'm very in demand. Obviously that was not true, but Cinderella was at a loss to explain why. She had been swamped with offers at the last ball she and Eugene had attended, more than she had known what to do with.

She noticed someone, some lady of the court that Cinderella did not recognise, staring at her. Cinderella looked away for a moment, but curiosity made her eyes draw back. The woman was still staring at her, though she kept looking away so as to pretend not to be, but her eyes kept coming back to Cinderella.

What's the matter? Is something wrong? Cinderella felt her hair, in case some of it had come lose and it was looking messy, but the low bun at the nape of her neck felt as firm as though it had just been arranged. But there was more than one person watching her. Some of them were whispering about her, though they hid their mouths behind their fans as they talked.

Was it her dress, her necklace? Had her makeup started to run? Cinderella began to wonder where she could find a mirror to make sure that she not suffered a catastrophe while unaware of it, until she heard one word whispered by someone too close to her.

"Adulteress."

Cinderella felt herself grow cold. So that was it. Of course that was it. Those awful stories in the newspaper. No wonder that no one wanted to ask her to dance, no wonder that no one would even stand next to her. They all thought that she was having an affair. No doubt they all thought it monstrous that she, who had been given everything by her husband, should then turn around betray him like that.

She wanted to run to everyone in the room and tell them that it wasn't true. She wanted to shout it to the whole ballroom. But what good would that have done? Why would any of these people have believed her?

Most of all she wanted to leave. She did not want to stay in this room, alone, enduring loneliness whenever Eugene was not with her, getting cut by everyone who had already judged her wicked, watching them stare at her, listening to them whisper about her.

She turned to go, already starting to feel a little sick in the stomach. Eugene would wonder where she'd gone, but she would tell him she had felt a little ill. He would understand.

Someone caught her hand gently as she began to walk towards the door.

"Your Highness, may I please have the honour?"

It was Jean Taurillion, looking at her with an apologetic smile, awkward chivalry radiating off of him like the light from the candles. "I will probably be a poor partner, but…but no lady so fair should sit out the very first dance."

A smile spread slowly across Cinderella's face. "Thank you, Jean. You're very kind."

Jean chuckled. "I think, your highness, that I am a little bold to ask."

"No," Cinderella said. "Not at all. And it would be my pleasure to dance with you."

Jean took her in hold, a little clumsily, and with such tentativeness that he barely touched her with the tips of his fingers.

"You're allowed to hold me, Jean," Cinderella said.

"Oh, I wouldn't presume to…"

Cinderella laughed as she pressed his hand against her waist. "There. Now you can lead me better."

Jean blushed. "I'm not sure I know how to dance, princess."

"Neither was I, until I tried it," Cinderella admitted. "And then I found it was the thing I loved most in the world."

Jean bowed his head. "Then I will try not to disappoint you, your highness."

He led her onto dancefloor, and let the music carry them away.

Once the first dance was over, Eleanor gratefully left Prince Eugene – he was a nice looking boy, but his conversation was bland and he had no interest in helping her with he problems – and walked across the floor, slipping between the couples now coming in to join the dance, and making her way to the window where Freddie stood, with her back to the merriment, staring out the window into the moonlight gardens.

Frederica glanced sideways as Eleanor came to stand beside her, snorted, and then looked away again.

Eleanor placed her hands upon the windowsill. "Princess Frederica of Normandie, what a pleasant surprise."

Frederica shook her head. "Princess Eleanor of Anjou, surprised by anything, that's a turn up in and of itself. Didn't your spies tell you that I was here?"

They had, as a matter of fact, and the knowledge had filled Eleanor with equal parts trepidation and excitement. Even now she could feel her heartbeat quickening.

"Perhaps I'm allowing you your privacy," she said quietly.

"That would make a change from violating it."

"Freddie-"

"Don't call me that!" Frederica hissed. "You don't have the right."

Eleanor's expression and voice alike both softened. "I never meant to hurt you."

"You chose to betray me, how did you think I would feel?"

"I had no choice."

"I was…" Frederica stopped on the verge of shouting. When she spoke again it was in a fervent whisper. "I was willing to give up everything for you, you weren't willing to give up one thing for me."

"You asked me to give up Anjou herself," Eleanor replied. "You asked me to give up my heart."

"Because I thought you'd given your heart to me," Frederica said. "As I did." She looked away. "What do you want, Eleanor? Leave me be. Respect my privacy."

"I want to know how you are," Eleanor said.

Frederica laughed derisively. "I'm fine. I'm perfect. My father forgave Toulon instantly, and he has given my failure in the matter of Prince Eugene's marriage as well."

Eleanor turned around, to watch Cinderella and Eugene waltzing together in the centre of the floor. "They make a handsome pair, don't they?"

Frederica glanced at them, and nodded. "They are in love. Absolutely in love. I've tested it myself. They're besotted with one another, poor things."

"Poor?" Eleanor said. "I would call them fortunate."

Frederica shook her head. "Love is weakness. Love invites betrayal, leads you to make mistakes. The one you give your heart to always breaks it."

Eleanor frowned. "What are your intentions towards her?"

"What makes you think I have any intentions?"

"Why would you still be here if you didn't?"

"Perhaps I like it here."

"I won't let you hurt her, Freddie," Eleanor said. "She means too much to me. She means too much to Anjou. I would like a truce with you, but if your plans threaten Cinderella…I'll stop you, as I did before."

"What makes you think I'd be so easy to stop this time?" Frederica asked, a mischievous smile playing upon her face. "Don't worry, I've no designs upon the poor girl's life or marriage. I've given all that up now. I've lost the game, and I have to live with that."

"I can protect you," Eleanor said. "From your father."

"You've helped me enough," Frederica said sharply. "What I would like to know is what you think you'll get out of her. Do you think she'll take Armorique to war for you?"

"I think she's the only person here who hasn't already refused me at least once."

Frederica snorted. "You'll get nowhere with her, Ellie. I don't think she's the warring kind."

"Nevertheless," Eleanor said. "She's what I have to work with, and so work on her I shall."

"You want to move quickly, then," Frederica said. "If this campaign of press slanders keeps up she won't be princess much longer."

"Yes," Eleanor murmured. "Serena de Montcalm and the Breton Gazette, isn't it?"

Frederica's eyebrows rose. "Very good, Eleanor, and you only arrived today. How did you know?"

Eleanor smiled. "Call it a woman's intuition."

"Call it what you like, I admit that you're spot on."

"There isn't any truth to any of it, is there?"

"Of course not. Didn't you hear me, the poor girl is wet with love. No, Montcalm had found an Irish rogue from somewhere and set him to seducing the girl, but he never got anywhere. And now he's disappeared. I can't find him."

"I'm sure he'll turn up somewhere," Eleanor said, with an absolute straight face.

The two princesses by birth watched their fellow princess by marriage dance a little while longer.

"Do you ever think about Toulon?" Eleanor asked.

"Always."

"I mean, do you ever think about us."

"As I said," Frederica said. "Always."

Eleanor frowned. "Where we as happy as them?"

"Yes."

"Pity," Eleanor said. "Sorrow is always proportional to the happiness that went before. Thank you for leaving Cinderella alone, Princess Frederica."

"Don't flatter yourself, it's not for you," Frederica replied. "You deserve to be thwarted at every step, Princess Eleanor. But that girl…to be left alone by someone is the least that Cinderella deserves."