The Imperial Offer

Some people might have found it a curious castle where the lady of the house, who was not really a lady at all, was being helped to dress by someone who had once been a world-renowned opera singer.

For Belle, it was far less curious than the fact that she had once been helped to dress by the wardrobe.

The thought amused her briefly, as Madame de Garderobe helped garb her in what was quite possibly the most extravagant dress that she had ever seen. Too extravagant, surely, with more roses than many rose gardens and more pearls than could be found in the Indian Ocean.

It was a beautiful sight to behold, a golden bodice and expansive peplum over a pale yellow skirt embroidered with a flower pattern, sleeves ending at the elbow in three layers of lace cuffs, and of course roses – two layers of roses, each layer two roses thick – not only lining the peplum but also climbing up it towards her waistline. And pearls, so many pearls hanging in descending, looping strands from her off-the-shoulder collar, between and from the roses that were all around her peplum, some of them almost touching the floor.

She would probably rattle when she walked.

At least nobody will be able to say that I snuck up on them.

"Are you sure that this is a good idea, Madame?" Belle asked, in such a tone as to suggest that she, for one, was not at all sure.

Madame de Garderobe stopped what she was doing – fastening Belle in up the back of the dress – and looked over her shoulder into the reflection in the mirror. "Don't you like it, dear? I think you stunning."

"No, it's very nice," Belle said quickly. "I'm just not sure that wearing it tonight is a good idea."

Madame de Garderobe smiled sympathetically as she placed her hands upon Belle's shoulders. "Whatever they call you, whatever title you have or don't have, you are the master's wife and mistress of this castle. Which means that in this castle you may dress as you like, as extravagantly as you please, and never mind what they say. And who knows, it might even impress them."

Belle couldn't help but snort at the idea. "If I wanted to impress them I'd have to find myself some new ancestors," she said.

The fact that Madame de Garderobe had no reply to that told Belle that she knew it just as well. All the singer turned sometime lady's maid said was, "Well, I doubt it would impress them any more if you were to dress plainly so as to humble yourself before them. Since you can't please them you may as well please yourself. So, if you don't like it, we can find easily find you something else."

"No," Belle said. "As you say, if I can't please them then I must please myself." She had always been good at that, after all: pleasing herself, even when she couldn't please anybody else. It had always been so in the village, and it would be so here as well. These lords and queens and archduchesses were no different from the baker and the fish-monger and the tavern-keeper back in the little town she had called home; aristocratic small-mindedness was distinguished from provincial small-mindedness by so little as to be indistinguishable by she who was or had been on the receiving end of both. She had survived that, and she would survive this.

But, oh, how she wished that she didn't have to.

Was this what I wanted? No; well, not really, but at the same time it couldn't be denied that she had got what she had wanted: love, a good man who saw her for what she was and adored her for it without demanding that she change anything about who she was or what she was to better fit with his view of the world. She had even gone further and done better than that, and she had for the most part found a place where she could be herself without fear; a place where she was respected, even liked, a place where she didn't have to be afraid.

But then there were times like these when very little of that became true, when the love of a good man was not enough, when the place that she now called home seemed less of a place she could rely on.

She loved Adam. Belle had loved him – or come to love him at least – when he was a horned and shaggy-haired monster and she loved him now that he was a handsome man; and he loved her, or had come to love her in his turn. They had wooed and won each other, and their hearts were entwined forever more.

But the laws of the Holy Roman Empire were as cold as iron, as merciless as the wolves that prowled the forests around Adam's ancient castle and stronger than he had ever been while in the grip of the curse. They cared nothing for love, for belonging, for the fact that they were meant to be together nor even for the fact that she had saved him from a curse. They cared only that Belle was not of royal blood, nor even of any noble line that could be named with honour, and that meant that, though he could marry her, though they were equals in one another's eyes, Belle could not be raised up to be his equal in the eyes of the world. Theirs was a morganatic marriage, a marriage by the left hand, and though her husband was a prince she remained just Belle, and while that didn't matter much to Adam or even to Lumiere, Cogsworth or Madame de Garderobe or any of the rest of her dear friends here when they were alone… it mattered a great deal when they had such guests as were now imposing themselves upon the hospitality of the castle.

"Belle?"

Belle abruptly realised that while she had been musing in such a melancholy fashion about the ordeal that awaited her downstairs in the dining room, Madame de Garderobe had finished all the rest of her tasks: her hair was done, her cheeks were blushed, there was a golden choker wrapped around her neck with a miniature red rose upon it. A pair of earrings now hung down from her ears. And she hadn't noticed any of it.

"Forgive me, Madame," Belle said apologetically. "I got lost in thought."

"Actually, it made you very easy to work with on account of how still you were," Madame de Garderobe said, chuckling. "You look-"

"Like a lady," Belle said. She could not restrain the slight sigh within her lips. "Like the lady that I'm not."

"My dear," Madame de Garderobe said. "Let me tell you something very important that I learned in the opera: a princess is not a crown, or a title granted to you by a marriage or a birth-"

Belle quirked one sceptical eyebrow. I'm sure that that's exactly what a princess is, actually.

"A princess," Madame continued. "Is the feminine ideal given form. That is why her tale is told, that is why her songs are sung, not because she has a title but because she has wit and courage and strength to spare… and beauty without reflecting the beauty within. You may not have a crown but you are the only true princess I have ever met in my life, and I have sung in half the courts of Europe so I know what I'm talking about!"

Belle smiled. "One of these days you'll have to tell me how an incredibly celebrated opera singer ended up in a place like this."

Madame de Garderobe smile. "How else, dear, but love?"

Belle's smile broadened. "How else indeed? Thank you, Madame, you are very kind."

There was a knock at the door. "Belle? Can I come in?"

"Yes," Belle said, and she turned around to face said door just as Adam opened it; the prince of the Franche-Comte was wearing a white jacket, with a red waistcoat underneath that made him look little like a robin, while across one shoulder he wore a scarlet sash on which were pinned the stars and medals of various chivalric orders of die alte Reich.

He stared at her for a moment. "…wow."

Belle couldn't keep the smile of her face. "I'm glad that someone else appreciates it, at least." The smile faded as quickly as it had sprung to her lips. "Is it time?"

Adam didn't look particularly happy about this either. "I'm afraid so."

Belle picked up her gloves from off the dressing table, and pulled them onto her hands one after the other. "Then there's no point putting it off, is there?"

I have always been an outcast; I survived it before, I will survive it now.

She followed Adam out into the corridor, where he offered her his arm.

"Thank you," she said, as she placed one hand gently upon his elbow.

"I'm sorry that you have to go through with this," Adam said. "But-"

"I understand, it would cause you trouble if I weren't here tonight," Belle said. For the most part she stayed out of the way of their guests, holing herself up in the library that remained her territory no matter how much else of the castle had to be ceded up to visitors, but she couldn't stay away from dinner without becoming actively rude, and that might cause Adam – might cause them both – problems considering who she would be being rude to. She gestured with her free hand towards the decorations pinned to his sash. "Do you have to wear all of those?"

Adam shrugged apologetically. "They were bestowed upon me by the Emperor when I was a boy, after my father died. It would be an insult not to wear them."

"Did you do anything to earn them?"

Adam smiled wryly. "You know what I was like when I was young, what do you think?"

"Does anyone do anything to earn them?"

"It's possible," Adam said. "But I doubt it." He bent down – even though he was now a man, he was still a tall, broad-shouldered man who dwarfed his wife – and brushed his lips against hers. "But I earned you, and that matters more than any of these baubles." He paused for a moment. "They will be gone soon, and everything will be back to normal."

Belle sighed. "I look forward to that. But for now… now we have to go down, don't we?"

"Yes," Adam said. "I'm afraid we do." And so, with Belle's hand resting upon his arm, the two of them descended down the grand staircase into the ballroom.

Belle had always considered herself to be an excellent judge of character. Perhaps it made her proud to think so, but she salved her conscience by telling herself that her judgements of people had a tendency to be proved right. She had seen the vile darkness that lay behind Gaston's hairy chest and lantern jaw, and her growing love for Adam had come about not as a result of any growing appreciation for his wild mane or leonine fangs but from the fact that she could perceive his soul changing for the better as though it were happening before her eyes. Yes, Belle thought that she could afford to give herself a little credit as a judge, considering that her judgements had been born out by the actions of those that she had cause to judge.

Which was another reason why she did not like having the presence of their three most notable guests in Adam's castle, the castle that she called home, the castle that she could not but think of as partly hers. Maria Theresa, Dowager Queen and Regent of Bavaria since the untimely death of her husband the late King, and her two younger sisters the Archduchesses Maria Carolina and Maria Sophia, were all beautiful young women whose beauty was enhanced by all the artifice that money could buy but they were wrong. They were wrong in the same way that Gaston had been wrong, and just like him they made Belle's skin crawl just being around them. She might almost have been glad of the fact that protocol would keep them far apart at dinner, except that that meant that she would have to leave Adam at their mercy at the top of the table.

For the rest, officers of the armies of Bavaria and Austria, courtiers and functionaries, there was nothing particularly objectionable about them except that they took their lead from their three mistresses, and they Belle did not trust at all.

Still, it would only be for one night. Just one night.

Belle kept her head up high as she descended the staircase. In this company, coronets might be more than kind hearts, and Habsburg blood than simple faith, but that didn't mean that she had to show them how much they discomfited her.

Cogsworth was standing at the foot of the stairs. He cleared his throat. "Ah-he-hem. His Royal Highness Adam, Prince of the Franche-Comte, and his wife." He gave Belle a thoroughly apologetic glance, to which Belle returned a smile to let him know that she took no offence; she knew that he was only doing what the occasion forced them all to do.

The dowager queen and the two archduchesses were already in the ballroom as Adam and Belle descended the staircase, the three of them dressed in flowing gowns that trailed across the floor behind them. It was Maria Carolina, the middle of the three sisters, with golden hair in curled braids that framed her face, who dashed forwards to meet them as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

Or rather, she dashed forward to meet Adam. As soon as she reached him she pushed Belle out of the way - so violently that it was only because Cogsworth caught her that she didn't fall flat on her rear - and wrapped her hands around Adam's arm.

"Adam!" she cried, purring a little like a self-satisfied cat as she embraced his arm tightly. Her voice was high-pitched and overly sweetened, like a cup of tea with too much sugar added. "You're here! It wasn't very nice of you to keep me waiting." She pouted up at him. "I was worried that something might have happened to you."

"Caroline!" the voice of Queen Maria Theresa cut across the ballroom as the eldest of the three sisters glided, her feet and any sign that she was actually moving her feet one in front of the other, slowly across the ballroom floor. Though she was not old – older than her sisters, Belle and Adam to be sure, but if she was older than twenty-five it could not be significantly so – she had concealed her hair beneath a wig of white curls so luminous they almost seemed to glow like moonlight. She had a fan in one gloved hand, and she flickered it in front of her face, concealing everything below her hazel eyes. "Try to control yourself. A lady does not run, and an archduchess of the Empire most certainly does not do so.

Caroline's pout became even more pronounced. "But Tessa-"

Theresa's fan cracked as she snapped it shut, revealing – for the brief moment before she opened her fan again with another pronounced snapping sound – a scowl of irritation.

Caroline bowed her head. "Your majesty." She let go of Adam with obvious reluctance, and murmured some request for forgiveness at a volume so low that Belle couldn't make out the exact words, but made no move to apologise to Belle.

Nobody seemed to expect her too, not even Belle herself.

"Remember," Theresa said. "That your behaviour reflects upon our father, not just on yourself."

Carolina rolled her eyes. "Yes, ma'am."

Theresa fluttered her fan in front of her face for a moment. "Prince Adam, how nice of you to join us." The words 'at last' hung unspoken in the air.

"Forgive me, your majesty, your graces," Adam said, with a bow of his head. "I hope you haven't been waiting too long."

"It matters little, in the scheme of things," Theresa replied briskly. "And you're here now, at least. Come, let us go."

Adam glanced back at Belle, who had recovered her balance, but she silently motioned for him to ignore her.

It was what he would have to do for the rest of dinner, after all.

He frowned, but he did as she had indicated that he should, and turned away. It was the dowager queen's hand that he took, not hers, as he led the gathered guests through into the dining room.

Belle lingered at the back of the crowd, remaining in the ballroom with Cogsworth as the rest of the assembly departed.

"Disgraceful behaviour," Cogsworth muttered. "Are you alright?"

"I am now," Belle said. "Thank you for sparing me the embarrassment of a fall."

"Think nothing of it, nothing at all," Cogsworth said. "What gentleman would do less?"

A great many, judging by the conduct of these gentlemen of Bavaria and Austria, Belle thought. "I don't mind admitting that I'll be grateful when all this is over."

"You're not alone in that," Cogsworth replied. "Take courage, Madame; we know your worth, even if others do not."

"I know," Belle said. It's part of why I have the strength to do this.

She went into the dining room, and nobody seemed to notice – or care if they did notice – that she was the last to arrive.

She was just Belle, a nobody amongst old names and grand titles, and so she sat near the bottom of the table amongst the other nobodies desperately hanging on to their positions as part of the court. None of them marked her either, they talked over her and around her as though she did not exist at all.

Mind you, as she glanced upwards to where Adam sat at the head of the table with the dowager queen and her two sisters, it didn't look as though he was having a particularly wonderful time either.

"When you were a monster, did you eat people?" asked the Archduchess Maria Sophia, youngest of the three sisters. Her hair was short, black and garlanded with roses as white as her dress, although Adam couldn't help but feel that her choice of colour clashed a lot with her interest in his life under the curse. She leaned forwards eagerly, grinning with anticipation.

Adam wasn't sure exactly where to look, so he looked down at the bowl of soup in front of him. "N-no, your grace, I didn't eat anyone."

"Oh," Sophia said, disappointment clear in her voice. "But in the stories monsters are always gobbling people up. Are you sure that you were a monster?"

"Yes," Adam admitted, through gritted teeth. "But I was also a man."

"Oh," Sophia repeated. "Then what did you eat?"

Adam drew in his breath sharply. "I ate meat," he said simply. He didn't really want to talk about how he had hunted animals in the forest like some kind of lion, carrying them back home and eating their flesh off the bone. He suspected that this was the kind of detail that Maria Sophia would have liked to know, but he still didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to think about how close he had come to losing his humanity before Belle came into his life.

"Did you ever kill anyone?"

Adam hesitated, he could almost hear Gaston's dying scream echoing in his ears. "I would prefer not to talk about such things."

"But I want to know!" Sophia declared petulantly. "It's a simple question, did you ever kill anyone when you were a monster?"

"Leave him alone, Sophie," Carolina said. She placed her hand on his and leaned forward just enough to give him a good view of her cleavage. "Why do you care what he was or did when he was turned a monster? He's not a monster any more. He's a man, a strong and handsome man." She began to stroke his arm.

Oh, for goodness' sake! Adam pulled his arm away, and struggled to control his temper. Love had gentled him, but there were times when he could still feel the wroth that had so often animated him as a beast threatening to boil up inside of him. He fought to keep it inside, where it belonged. He was a man now, and no longer a monster.

"Your grace," he said, trying not to growl. "I don't know what you think you're doing but I assure you-"

"I hope, Prince Adam, that you are not suggesting that my sister, daughter of the Holy Roman Emperor, King of Hungary, Bohemia and Germany and Archduke of Austria, would have an affair outside the bounds of wedlock?" Theresa demanded from the other side of the table. "Would allow herself to be deflowered like some common tart, even by you?" She smiled. "Of course you're not. You would never be so discourteous to my sister, my father, or myself, would you?"

Adam cleared his throat. "Of course not, your majesty. I would never suggest such a thing about the scion of such a noble line as yours."

"I'm delighted to hear it," Theresa said. "Almost as delighted as I am by this delicious meal, your chef is to be congratulated."

"He will be honoured by the praise of a queen," Adam replied.

"Of course. Who wouldn't be?" Theresa asked. She sipped a little more soup. "Still, very delicious. Tell me, Prince Adam, your father-in-law… he invents things, doesn't he?"

Adam was surprised by the question – and by the way that Maria Theresa had said 'invents things' as though it were the worst thing that anybody could do, worse even than going into trade – into a momentary silence. "He, yes, he dabbles in such things."

"Hmm," Theresa murmured. "Tell him to stop, won't you? There's a good fellow."

Adam's eyebrows rose. "I… forgive me, your majesty, but I don't understand."

"And I don't understand why anyone would want to waste the treasure of their time getting their hands covered in soot and grease, but apparently there are people who find it enjoyable," Theresa said sharply. "I understand that you fund these endeavours of his?"

"He is my wife's father," Adam replied. "Of course I support his enthusiasm."

"If his enthusiasm was for cutting off heads would you support that?"

"With the greatest respect, your majesty, that's a rather absurd comparison."

"Is it?" Theresa asked. "There is more at stake here than the indulgence of one old man who thinks himself a second Leonardo."

Adam frowned. "Then perhaps you should explain what more is at stake, for I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Word has reached me of the sort of inventions that this man works on," Theresa said. "Machines to cut wood, to harvest grain, to save labour."

"Yes, and?"

Theresa rolled her eyes at his naivety. "We have a system to preserve, Prince Adam; the fact that you have married a common village girl makes you no less a part of that system than I or my sisters. Our system is based, amongst other things, on the common peasants having a great deal of manual labour to occupy their waking hours. Imagine what might happen if that were to stop being the case, imagine what else they might do if they didn't have to chop wood or reap in the crops. They might start to read books, to have ideas, to wonder why they need to doff their caps and touch their forelocks to kings and emperors and princes."

"Perhaps we should try and come up with an answer," Adam suggested.

"Don't try to be amusing, it doesn't suit you," Theresa answered flatly. "Your father-in-law does have an enthusiasm for cutting off heads, he just doesn't realise yet that it will be all of our heads on the chopping block if he starts a revolution with his innovations. So put a stop to it."

"And if I refuse?" Adam asked.

Theresa looked at him as though he were a complete idiot. "There are many ancient laws on the Imperial statute books, I'm sure that at least one of them can be found to put a stop to all this nonsense."

"That won't be necessary," Adam said quickly. "I will take care of it." Neither Belle nor Maurice would be happy about it, but they would understand once he made clear to them that the alternative was some sort of show-trial before an Imperial Diet. And there was no reason Maurice couldn't continue to work in a quieter fashion, perhaps on something less alarming to the Habsburgs.

And yet…I thought that once they were gone everything would return to normal; instead their influence will linger here.

"I'm glad to hear it," Theresa said. "I knew I could rely on you. In that, and in the main business for which my sisters and I have travelled all this way." She smirked. "Or did you think I came here simply for the pleasure of your hospitality."

"I really had no idea," Adam said.

"Please don't play the fool, you're not the sort of person to think that I would come all this way, leaving my son behind, just to see you."

Adam looked at her for a moment. "They do say that you are your father's right hand. It had crossed my mind that you were here upon the Emperor's business. Either that or Bavaria itself has some interest in my land that I could not conceive of." He and Belle had talked it over, and she hadn't been able to think of anything either, concluding that it was far more likely that Maria Theresa was acting in the Imperial interest rather than the Bavarian; and she was much cleverer than he was – he would have felt far more comfortable if she'd been by his side, rather than at the other end of the table – so he had no doubt she was right.

Theresa smiled. "I confess, it pleases me to here that even in this backwater my reputation has come before me."

"Theresa," Carolina whined. "Do you have to talk business like this? It's all terribly boring."

Theresa's gaze turned frosty. "Boring? Is that what you think? Sophie, do you agree with Caroline?"

Caroline and Sophia shifted uncomfortably under their elder sister's gaze.

"I suppose you'd like to hear more stories of monsters?" Theresa asked. "Or perhaps you'd like more opportunities to make a fool of yourself?"

"Theresa-" Carolina began.

Theresa thumped the table so hard that the silverware jumped. "You are daughters of an emperor, try to start acting like it!" she yelled so loudly that all other conversation at the long dining table ceased, and all the eyes of the lords and knights and functionaries turned their way towards the head of the table. Adam could see Belle, all the way down at the far end, looking at him with concern in her doe hazel eyes.

And he couldn't even try to convey to her that there was nothing to worry about because he wasn't at all sure that it was true.

Theresa took a deep breath, and her voice descended to a sharp and icy quiet. "You are neither of you children any longer. One day soon you will both be wed to great princes of the Empire, to help hold the dominions of our father together."

Carolina smirked. "And to have sons who could become Emperor? Or is that only for your son?"

"I don't know how you think that you could ever compete for the succession if you can't focus on the Imperial business," Theresa replied sharply. "We were not put on this earth solely to amuse ourselves, but to uphold the dignity of a great empire. Our father's influence stretches from the Balkans to the North Sea, there is nothing boring about that." She sighed. "The Empire is far from boring. The Empire upholds the dignity of the Church, defends Christendom against the heathen Turk, the Empire maintains the light of civilisation itself. The Empire… the Empire is everything."

Sophia bowed her head. "Of course, Theresa. Please continue."

"Yes," Adam murmured. "Please, your majesty, explain to me why you are here."

Theresa tapped her fingers upon the wood of the table for a moment. "What do you know of the progress of our war with Aquitaine and their allies?"

Adam rested his hands upon the arms of his chair. "I know that the Imperial armies have been making good progress in the north against the Flemish, but that your-"

"Our," Theresa said.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Our armies?" Theresa said. "You are a prince of the Holy Roman Empire, our war is your war. Although it has not escaped the notice of anyone in Vienna or Munich that the Franche-Comte has not sent any troops to join the Imperial Army."

"We have sent money," Adam replied.

"So has every kingdom, principality and city-state, but most of them have also sent muskets," Theresa said. "And men to carry them into battle for the glory of the Reich."

"We are a little land, we have no men to spare," Adam said. "If we sent troops then we would not be able to gather in the harvest."

Theresa snorted. "No doubt every prince or count would say as much if he dared; do not think that because you are far away that your actions escape all notice." She shook her head. "However, you may be fortunate, both in that the need for such may soon be obviated… but also because you may have the opportunity to serve us in another way."

"Are we finally coming to the reason you're here?" Adam asked.

"I think you were about to say," Theresa said. "that although we have done well against Aquitaine's allies in the north, our advance in the centre has been stymied on the Loire river and to the south it is slow going. Your news, however, is somewhat out of date; we have broken the Loire line and our forces have taken Paris; even now our armies cut a swathe across Gallia towards the Atlantic. It is true that in the south, bolstered by their allies of Provence, the Aquitainians hold the alpine passes and our Army of Italy has made little progress; however that does not negate our success in the north nor that the Flemish are about ready to surrender. I think another year, at most, would see the finish, Aquitaine must be close to the limit of their manpower reserves, and my spies in London tell me that their credit with the banks of Albion is nearly exhausted."

"Then congratulations are in order, it seems," Adam murmured, because it was expected of him. For himself, he no longer found any reason why earnest congratulations ought to be offered on the making of a great many widows and orphans in the name of making an already vast empire just a little bit larger, but that was not the sort of thing that he could say before the Emperor's daughters.

"Not necessarily," Theresa said. "Our recent victories have alarmed the neutral powers: Albion frets over the loss of their trade with Flanders, and Normandie fears that once we have crushed Aquitaine we will turn on them – probably because that is what their own king would do in our place."

"And will you?" Adam asked. "Turn upon them?"

Maria Theresa very carefully did not respond to Adam's question. Rather, she said, "Armorique has made it known that it intends to call a congress of the powers to settle the disputes that lie between the Empire and Aquitaine."

"I'm surprised they want to involve themselves in this," Adam said. If it had been him in their position he would have had nothing to do with any of it. Or so he might have said, before he heard Theresa speak. If she spoke true, and she had no reason to lie about it – if you were going to lie about your motives, why make them seem more sinister than the world believed them to be? – then it would be Armorique's turn soon enough whether they wished it or not; better, then, to try and prevent the collapse of Aquitaine and bring an end to the war while you still had a good neighbour to the south.

"Are you? I am not. If the congress is successful then great prestige will accrue to the nation and its king. He will be at the heart of Europe, its great arbiter, settling the issues of great nations and redrawing the map according to his whim. Armorique would become the diplomatic centre of the west if their initiative is successful. I can see why they want to take the chance but it does put us in a quandary. We do not wish to go, when we are so close to achieving military victory, but if we do not attend then a congress of nations could easily turn into a coalition against us. You can see why we wish to avoid that."

"Yes," Adam said. "But I don't see what that has to do with me."

"The congress will not be held just yet," Theresa said. "Armorique is still canvassing the nations to get them to confirm their attendance. I wish you to go, as the Empire's representatives, and get a first-hand impression of the way the land lies there. If you think that this is to be a fair congress, not one that is stacked against us and our interests by the Franks, then send word and we will attend."

Adam couldn't help his eyebrows rising up his forehead. "You're putting a great deal of trust in me."

"You are as much French as you are of the Empire," Theresa admitted. "And you are acquainted with Prince Eugene, and with the Norman Princess Frederica who seems to have taken up residence in his country."

"Ooh, do you think they're sleeping together?" Sophia asked eagerly. "Wouldn't that be scandalous?"

"It's possible," Theresa allowed. "But personally I find it unlikely; why would he not have simply married her instead of… I forget the name of who he married, some nobody; he's…" she stopped short of saying 'he's a lot like you in that regard' which is what Adam suspected that she had been about to say. "The point is that you know them both."

"They attended my wedding, but I wouldn't claim that we were great friends."

"Acquaintance is more than I possess, and besides, you are a likeable man. I hope it will allow you a somewhat sympathetic hearing on our behalf than might be given to those of us who… are less personable by nature," Theresa said, with a glance towards her sisters. "And if you think that this is all an excuse to rob us through negotiations of what we would have won by war, and then I would like you to do all you can to break up this burgeoning coalition before it can properly form." She leaned back, and folded her hands in her lap. "And of course, you wouldn't go unrewarded for your service to the Empire."

"Wouldn't I?"

"Of course not," Theresa said, as though the idea was absurd. "The Emperor rewards his loyal servants, and so do I." She smiled. "How would you like it if, the next time we were to sit down like this, your wife could be sitting by your side instead of my foolish sisters."

"Hey!" Caroline said.

Adam ignored her. He was far more focussed upon the rich prize that Queen Maria Theresa had dangled before his eyes. Perhaps it wasn't very often that things like this happened, perhaps for the most part he was able to treat Belle as the equal to himself that she was spiritually. Perhaps for the most part it didn't really matter that there were moments when he had to stand by and let her be treated this way…but those moments, the ones that were not covered by that 'perhaps' rankled with him a great deal. They rankled with Belle too, although she tried not to show it. If there was a possibility, a genuine possibility, to change that and to make sure that Belle had the respect in the world that her heart and virtues deserved then, well, how could he refuse to take it? "How is that possible?"

"Anything is possible, with the will," Theresa said. "Titles can be created out of thin air if my father wishes it so. With a snap of the Emperor's fingers and his seal upon a piece of paper Belle could become a countess, a duchess… perhaps, even a princess."

Adam froze. This was…he had never expected, never even dreamed. This was more than just elevating Belle's status to the point where she could hold her head high in company such as this one, this was actually making her his true equal in the eyes of the world beyond this castle, and if they had children then those children would be legitimate heirs to his lands and titles, this… this was the prize, this was…this was everything.

It was a dream, a dream that he could hardly believe might become real. "The marriage laws-"

"Can always be circumvented," Theresa said. She smiled. "I am descended from Snow White and Ferdinand, who first united Bohemia and Austria under one crown; but trace the descent of Ferdinand or Snow White back far enough and you will find a pair of brigand chiefs who happened to be in the right place at the right time. So it is with all noble families. In the case of your wife, well… her father is unfortunately still with us, but her mother is not; claims could be… created tying her to some old and safely defunct noble family, proving that she has sufficient noble blood to make her a fit consort to a prince of such a land as this… if there is good cause for us to do so."

"If I serve you well in this," Adam said.

"Precisely," Theresa said. "Think about it. Talk it over with your wife. And give me an answer before I leave, there isn't much time to waste. You have a great opportunity lying before you, Prince Adam; don't throw it away."