The Morning After

Years of service to her stepfamily had made Cinderella an early riser, no matter how much it had been under duress. She had never liked getting up early, by any means, she very much enjoyed the feel of a soft bed – or even any bed, to be perfectly honest, it didn't have to be particularly soft – beneath her and a blanket over her in the morning; but, when there were chores to be done before breakfast there wasn't a lot of choice in the matter, it was either get up early or feel her Stepmother's wrath and so Cinderella had learnt, however reluctantly, to become an early riser.

She had not been a servant to her stepfamily for over a year now, but although she had no need to rise early – she was a princess, and being a princess meant that she could lie in bed as late as she wanted, within reason and with some exceptions depending on her duties and appointments for the day, and lately depending on how the children were doing – she nevertheless had been unable to shake the habit of waking up early.

And so the morning saw her wake before Eugene, opening her eyes to see Eugene lying next to her in her bed.

The bed that they had shared last night, for the first time since the birth of their girls.

All was right with the world once again.

Well, not in the world, of course, but certainly in her marriage. In her family.

Cinderella's husband was in her bed, and her children were sleeping downstairs. What more could a girl wish for?

Cinderella smiled, although there was no one to see it with Eugene still asleep, but then it was the sleeping Eugene that she was smiling at, lying next to her, his head having fallen between the two pillows in a way that might have seemed awkward except that he seemed to be sleeping perfectly well regardless. One of his strong arms was tucked beneath her, curling around her, the tips of his fingers resting upon Cinderella's bare shoulder. After they had finished making love they had simply lain there, cuddled up together, their arms around each other. They must have fallen asleep like that.

There were far, far worse ways in which to fall asleep.

Sleeping alone, for one thing.

For her part, Cinderella had woken up lying next to her husband, her body pressed up against him, one fair arm resting upon his chest. Her other arm was pinned beneath Eugene, he was lying on it, and as a result said arm felt rather numb.

Cinderella hardly cared. If that was the price, then it was a price well worth paying. She had Eugene back.

Perhaps it was silly to be worried that… well, I wasn't even sure what to be worried about, whether to be worried that I'd changed and that he didn't find me beautiful any more, or that he had fallen out of love or… but considering that he simply stopped visiting and didn't tell me why I think I had a right to be worried about that.

Eugene's hand upon her shoulders did not restrict her movement, and so Cinderella shifted herself so that her head was resting on Eugene's chest, along with her arm and hand. She could feel the hairs of his chest tickling her cheek, she could feel his chest rising and falling as he breathed, carrying her with it.

She moved her hand so that it was resting upon his shoulder, and closed her eyes, and smiled.

The day could wait, breakfast could wait, and the world and all its problems could wait. She just wanted this moment to linger on, despite the rising of the sun.

She wasn't quite sure how long she laid there. Not long enough, by some measures, but when she felt a hand brushing at her hair, she felt no dismay at it, rather she turned her body round so that she was lying on her front, and her smile became brighter, open mouthed, flashing her teeth to see Eugene looking down on her.

"Good morning," he said softly.

"Good morning," Cinderella replied, leaning forwards, clambering over Eugene's chest just a little to kiss him on the lips.

"I had forgotten," Eugene said. "That confining myself to my own room would mean losing the pleasure of waking up to a pair of beautiful blue eyes. I don't know how I could have been such a fool."

Cinderella giggled. "I missed you too."

"Yes, you made that quite clear," Eugene replied, with a grin. He paused for a moment, the slightest frown crossing his face. "Am I sleeping on your arm?"

"I think we slept on one another's arms," Cinderella said.

"Perhaps we did, but since you feel as light as a feather I can't say that I'm feeling the effects much," Eugene said, and to prove his point he reached out and brushed his fingers – from the hand that had been under Cinderella – through her bangs. "I suspect that you can't say the same about your arm." He took Cinderella by the shoulders with both hands and gently rolled her off him, before he himself rolled over to free Cinderella's arm from his body.

Her arm had gone numb. She couldn't move her fingers at all, or her hand for that matter, in fact it was just about all she could do to drag her arm away with the one that still worked and moved it out of the way so that Eugene could lie down facing her again.

"Are you alright?" he asked, a degree of amusement in his voice.

Cinderella laughed. "I'll be fine," she said. She lay there, discreetly massaging her arm, laying her head down upon her soft pillows, staring into the eyes of her husband, her handsome prince, the father of her children.

Eugene chuckled. "What?"

"Nothing," Cinderella said softly. "I love you."

"A fact for which I give daily thanks," Eugene said, leaning over to kiss her first upon the forehead, and then upon the nose, and finally upon the lips.

Cinderella giggled briefly, and took pause from massaging her numb arm to use the one that worked to reach for Eugene's hand. "And you're going to spend time with the children and I, aren't you?"

"I'm looking forward to it," Eugene said.

Cinderella could not quite prevent a slightly upwards movement of her eyebrows.

"Cinderella, you pierce my soul," Eugene said, in a wounded tone. "I swear, I am… I swear I am." He paused for a moment. "I have a poor father to my son, I admit to that, but… but I have a chance to be a better father to our girls, and I mean to take it. And for Philippe… I hope it's not too late." He turned away from her. "But now, I have to go."

"I'll see you at breakfast?" Cinderella asked. "Will you come back and walk me down?"

Eugene got out of Cinderella's bed. "Now, where I did I- ah!" He bent down, and picked up his trousers off the floor. They were awfully creased from their time there, but Cinderella supposed that that hardly mattered as he started to pull them on, he was only going to be wearing them for a little while.

As he pulled them on, Eugene turned back to her. "I fear that I may not," he said. "Not be there for breakfast, I mean."

That was unusual. Eugene almost never missed breakfast save when he was absent for whatever reason.

Cinderella, still massaging life back into her arm, said, "No? Why not?"

"I need to go down to see Etienne first thing, and talk to him about L'Escroc."

"L'Escroc? Oh, yes! The soldier you suggested to take over my guard once Jean leaves," Cinderella murmured. "The one who saved your life."

"The very same," Eugene said. "Once I've spoken to Etienne about it, we can give him his marching orders and get him down here, you can see what you think of him."

"And you can't tell me anything more about him?" Cinderella asked.

Eugene was silent for a moment. "He's a rogue," he admitted. "But he's Armorique's rogue, and one I was glad to have on our side. So I will be glad to have him at your side, too."

Cinderella's lips pricked upwards into a slight smile. "I wish you'd told me that this man had saved your life."

"Why?"

"So that I could have thanked him, of course," Cinderella said. "He's must I'm horribly ungrateful, to have not sent him a gift, or written him a letter or-"

"I promoted him from sergeant to lieutenant, turned him from a common soldier into an officer," Eugene reminded her. "That's thanks enough."

"He saved your life," Cinderella declared. "My husband's life. The life of the person I love most in the whole world, the most important person in my life. I ought to have acknowledged that."

Eugene laughed. "Well, when you meet L'Escroc, you can tell him that it was all my fault, that I didn't even tell you that there was anything you needed to thank him for."

"Hmm," Cinderella murmured. "Is there any reason why you can't go and do that after breakfast?"

"I want to get the arrangements made as quickly as possible," Eugene said, pulling on his shirt.

Cinderella wasn't entirely convinced. "That means that I'll be having breakfast with your father," she whispered.

Eugene paused in the act of lacing up his shirt. He looked down at her. "Cinderella," he murmured, a note of reproach creeping into his voice.

"I'm sorry," Cinderella said, glancing at him for long enough to catch the look of disappointment on his face, the look that forced her to look away from him. "I know that it wasn't his fault but I… I just forget that it happened."

"My father loves you," Eugene insisted. "As if you were his own daughter he loves you."

"But he hit me," Cinderella declared, looking at Eugene once again, her own expression imploring. "He shouted at me and he hit me. He let other people push me, and frighten me, and-"

"He was not himself."

"I know!" Cinderella cried. "But that doesn't mean that I can… it isn't so easy for me to… I can't just forget. I'm sorry, but… when I'm alone with him, with His Majesty… are you sure that you can't come to breakfast?"

"There are things that I need to do," Eugene told her. He paused for a moment. "If… if you wish, you can always have breakfast here, in your chambers, with your ladies perhaps, or alone. There is a chef downstairs, somewhere in the bowels of the tower."

Yes. Yes, there was, although Cinderella didn't use him very often – but since Philippe had moved in here the man had gotten more employment in catering to the meals of her son, who very rarely dined in the dining room, although Cinderella would have liked it if he did; perhaps when he was a little older – but he was there, part of the establishment of her household along with Duchamp and Constance and Paulette and Madeline and all the maids who kept the Queen's Tower working and liveable and Cinderella herself washed and well dressed and able to carry out both her duties and her pleasures. Yes, she could have breakfast up here in the tower. She could have breakfast with Philippe, perhaps, or with her ladies. Or with her ladies and Philippe.

And His Majesty would be having breakfast all by himself.

Or Cinderella could be alone with His Majesty.

What should I do? What I want, or what is right?

What is right?

"Cinderella?" Eugene prompted.

"I… I don't know," Cinderella admitted. "But I will… I'll decide." She sat up. "I'll see you later then, with the children?"

Eugene leaned forwards, and then ended up getting onto his hands and knees as she moved across the mattress to kiss her one last time. "With the children," he agreed, before getting up off the bed, and pulling his shoes on. "Until then."

Cinderella smiled at him. "Until then," she whispered.

The smile on Eugene's face was a little guarded by worry about what Cinderella might decide to do about His Majesty, but it reached his eyes nevertheless as he, wearing his shoes, trousers and shirt, holding his jacket loosely in one hand, walked around the bed towards the door.

He was still smiling as he stepped out of the bedroom door, and shut it behind him.

Cinderella smiled too, although the smile faded for a moment as the door shut and she was left alone.

Breakfast with His Majesty, or making His Majesty have breakfast all alone? What she wanted, or what was right?

Cinderella sighed, and decided to do her best not to think about it for just a little while. After all, she had so many reasons to be happy, why should be miserable. She had Eugene back in her bed. She had her husband back. She had three adorable children whom she loved ever so much.

She had the feeling back in her other arm now, and so Cinderella got up off the bed and crossed her bedroom to tear open the curtains. The sunlight streamed in upon her face.

And it's a beautiful day outside. How can I be sad when I have so many reasons to be happy?

Cinderella began to hum to herself, and twirled on her toes as she danced lightly back across the bedroom to the door. Grasping the rope beside the door – and beside her bed – she rang for Duchamp.

She was about to sit down on the stool before the vanity mirror – she was halfway through twirling across the bedroom to do so, in fact – when Cinderella abruptly realised that she was absolutely and completely naked.

Duchamp had, of course, seen Cinderella naked probably even more often than Eugene – one of her duties was to help Cinderella bathe and dress in the morning, and another was to help her undress at the end of the day – but that was one thing, or two things, and seeing your mistress walking around casually with nothing on was quite another, and so Cinderella grabbed her nightgown from where it lay on top of the bed and hastily pulled it on.

She had just gotten it on when Duchamp came in.

"Good morning, ma'am," Duchamp said, as she closed the door behind her, and curtsied to Cinderella.

The flush of embarrassment adding colour to Cinderella's cheeks could not keep the smile off Cinderella's face, nor could the fact that she still had to lift her hair up over the collar of her nightgown, somewhat giving away that she had only just put it on. She was in too good a mood for embarrassment, or even nervousness, to drive it out of her. A cavalcade of embarrassments could not drive her out of her good humour.

"Good morning, Duchamp," Cinderella replied. "And what a lovely morning it is, don't you think?"

"If you say so, ma'am," Duchamp murmured. She walked a few steps forward, before pausing to bend down and pick one of Eugene's socks up off the floor.

Cinderella covered her mouth with one hand as she chuckled. "At some point, will you see that all of Prince Eugene's things are returned to his chambers?"

The ever proper Duchamp smiled only slightly, the corners of her mouth pricking upwards just a little. "Of course, ma'am, I shall instruct Constance and Paulette to keep a look out as they're cleaning." She paused for a moment. "I take it you… slept well, ma'am?"

"I slept very well, Duchamp, thank you," Cinderella said.

"And was there anything to be afraid of, ma'am?" Duchamp asked. "If it's not too bold to ask."

Cinderella hesitated for a moment. "It might be too bold for me to give you details," she said. "But everything has been settled, between His Highness and myself."

Duchamp nodded. "I'm glad to hear it, ma'am. Now, will you be wanting your bath, or will there be anything else first?"

"No, I'll have my bath and then dress," Cinderella said. "But before you bring up the bathwater, will you tell my ladies in waiting – if they're still awake, I don't want to disturb them otherwise – that I would like to see them at once."

"At once, ma'am?" Duchamp repeated.

"Yes, Duchamp, we can talk while you bring up the water," Cinderella said.

"As you wish, ma'am, I shall inform them directly," Duchamp said, curtsying again.

"Thank you, Duchamp," Cinderella said. "If there's time after speaking to my ladies I'll try and pick out a dress."

"Ma'am," Duchamp said softly, as she walked backwards to the door and showed herself out, closing said door behind her and leaving Cinderella once again alone in the bedroom, for however little time until her ladies arrived.

She sat down on the stool before the dressing table, although Cinderella herself had her back to both table and vanity mirror, facing the door with her legs crossed and her fingertips resting upon her knee.

While she was alone, her thoughts strayed once again to what she was going to do about breakfast. Did she break her fast with His Majesty, even though the thought of being alone with him made her shiver, or did she force His Majesty to eat alone, for reasons that were… not really his fault?

Did she please herself, or please Eugene and His Majesty?

It wasn't something she could ask her Ladies in Waiting for advice about, nor could she ask Duchamp for that matter. It was a decision she would have to make herself.

Fortunately, there were things on which she could consult her ladies.

The door opened, and all four of her ladies in waiting walked into the bedroom: Angelique, Marinette, Augustina and Lady Christine. Seeing them all stood there, as they moved to stand in front of the bed, all facing her in something resembling a row, there seemed enough of them that she did not require any additional ladies to join her household; on the other hand, there were only four of them, and while none of them complained it did mean that they were all doing more to help her than they ought to have done.

And that would be even more true when Angelique departed.

They were all here, so – assuming that Duchamp hadn't woken them up in spite of Cinderella's instructions – they had all been awake when the summons came; on the other hand they were all wearing their nightgowns, so clearly they hadn't been up for that long.

"Good morning, ladies," Cinderella said. "I'm sorry to disturb you so early."

"We are at your highness' service," Lady Christine said.

"In any case, good morning Cinderella," Marinette said, smiling softly.

"Yes, yes it is a good morning, isn't it Marinette?" Cinderella said. "A very, very good morning indeed."

"You seem in a rather good mood this good morning," Augustina observed.

"I wonder why," Lady Christine said, picking up the sock that Duchamp had placed upon the bed.

Cinderella laughed lightly. "Eugene spent the night last night," she said, "for… for the first time since the girls were born."

"And you are gladdened, your highness?" Lady Christine asked.

Cinderella's brow furrowed a little. "Yes, of course I am, Lady Christine, why wouldn't I be?"

"My mother might have been glad of the rest," Lady Christine replied. "But if you are content, then we rejoice in your happiness."

"But I doubt that you called us here to share the good news," Angelique said. "Did you, princess?"

"No," Cinderella admitted. "No, I didn't. There are a few things I wanted to ask you, or simply wanted to talk to you about, before Duchamp returns with my bathwater."

"We are all ears," Augustina said.

Cinderella nodded, pausing for a moment while she considered where to begin. "As you know," she said. "Angelique and Jean will be getting married soon."

Angelique's smile illuminated her whole face, and there was a brief pause as Marinette, Augustina and Lady Christine gave her a brief round of applause.

"Not too soon, it must be said," Lady Christine said, "considering that as far as I can tell neither of you have even begun to plan your wedding."

"We'll get to it!" Angelique replied, her voice rising a little in pitch.

"When?" Lady Christine asked.

"I… I don't know, but it doesn't need that much planning, does it?" Angelique asked. "Didn't your highness wedding get arranged in a couple of days?"

"In a few, yes," Cinderella replied. "His Grace was very efficient in organising everything. Really, it seemed to me that the thing that took the longest was the dress, not that I'd have wanted Lucrecia to rush it."

"That may be so," Augustina said. "But – not to dispute His Grace's powers of organisation – you can get a lot done when you have the entire staff of a palace at your disposal. You don't, Angelique, and while you can have as plain a wedding as you wish you do, at least need a church and a priest, and so far you don't even have either of those."

"As I said, we'll get around to it," Angelique said. "At the moment, there's enough to do with the preparations for this congress."

"I'm sorry, Angelique," Cinderella murmured. "I should have more ladies in waiting, then the four of you wouldn't have to take on so many duties."

"Princess, I wasn't-"

"That's what I wished to talk about, partly," Cinderella went on. "With Angelique and Jean getting married at some point they will both be leaving us; I admit that's something that I hadn't really thought about until Eugene brought it up at dinner last night. But you'll want to live in your own home, and start raising a family of your own."

Angelique was silent for a moment. "I… I hadn't really thought about it either," she confessed, her voice soft and quiet. "Jean's probably just the same. I mean… when you say that, it makes sense. It makes a lot of sense. There isn't really room here for us to live as… as man and wife, I mean even you don't, princess, His Highness is on the other side of the palace. Yes, I… I suppose you're right." She bowed her head, and touched her chin with one finger, looking deep in thought. She glanced up at Cinderella. "Will you be alright without us?"

"I will miss you both," Cinderella said. "I will miss you both so much. I will… well, perhaps we should save that for your wedding day, if I told you now how much I'll miss you what would I say when you do go?" She smiled, if only for a moment. "But the reason I mention it is that Eugene is already talking about finding new ladies in waiting, not only to replace Angelique, but also to bring up the numbers of my household closer to what they were, and ought to be."

"You should make Oscar one of them," Angelique said.

"Oscar?" Lady Christine repeated. "The servant girl?"

"Her Highness was a servant girl," Angelique pointed out. "And I was a commoner, in fact you'd probably have called me worse than that. Anyway, Oscar isn't a real servant, but she comes from the same kind of streets that I did."

"Are you suggesting that we need a commoner amongst our number?" Augustina asked, amusement in her voice.

"I think it wouldn't hurt," Angelique replied. "But more to the point… princess, I won't say that Oscar and I are good friends, but she survived and thrived on the streets, and I respect what it took for her to make that happen. She's clever, she's crafty, you need someone like that. Someone who'll tell you what's what. Someone who sees what's going on. I'd… I'd feel a lot better leaving you if I knew that I was leaving you with her."

"I will miss your honesty," Cinderella said. "And while she won't ever replace you, Angelique… maybe she can do me that service. Very well, I'll speak to Eugene about it, and then I will speak to Oscar herself, to see if she is amenable."

"Why wouldn't she be?" Augustina asked.

"I don't want to make any assumptions," Cinderella said. "And if any of the rest of you know anyone who you think would do well here please, give me or Prince Eugene their names."

"I'm afraid I don't know anyone," said Marinette.

"I… I might have a cousin who might be suitable," Lady Christine said after a moment. "Noemie is… used to helping take care of others. I will write to her father, with your highness' permission."

"By all means, Lady Christine," Cinderella said. "I look forward to meeting them."

"I…" Augustina murmured. "I… I will need to give it some thought, if you'll allow me."

"Of course," Cinderella said. "I didn't mean to rush anyone into anything, I just wanted to let you know and to ask for your help."

"Well, as interesting as it is to know that our numbers will soon swell once more, I feel that the impending departure of Lieutenant Taurillion might be worth a word or two," Augustina said. "You should not be without a protector."

"She still has other guards," Angelique pointed out.

"But no commander," Augustina said. "Who is to lead them? Not to mention the fact that Lieutenant Taurillion does a great deal of the work of guarding Cinderella himself, who will take up that burden."

"Prince Eugene has already chosen a new commanding officer," Cinderella began.

"Jean hasn't left yet," Angelique pointed out.

"I know, but Eugene doesn't want to wait until Jean goes and a new man has to take over, and I can see why," Cinderella replied. "I would feel better with someone who knew what they were doing, rather than someone who was learning."

"I wasn't saying that I wanted you to be unprotected," Angelique said. "I just-"

"I would never think that, Angelique, don't worry," Cinderella assured her. "But if you could speak to Jean, let him know that this is happening and why; Eugene is going to speak to Lieutenant L'Escroc today and I don't want Jean to only find out when he arrives."

"I'll speak to him," Angelique promised.

"L'Escroc?" Augustina asked. "Did you say L'Escroc?"

"Yes, yes I did," Cinderella said. "Do you know him?"

"Isn't he the fellow that His Highness raised up from the ranks?" Augustina asked.

Cinderella's eyebrows rose. "You knew about that? You knew that Eugene had needed to have his life saved in America?"

Augustina frowned slightly. "You… did not know about that?"

"No," Cinderella murmured. "Eugene didn't tell me."

"I'm sorry, but I don't know how I could have known that he wouldn't," Augustina said.

"No, it isn't your fault," Cinderella murmured.

"What is this?" Lady Christine asked. "It is news to me?"

"There is not much to say beyond what has been said," Augustina informed her. "During the course of one particular battle, Prince Eugene found himself unhorsed and surrounded by the enemy. He defended himself with his sword, but was saved by the intervention of a common soldier, a sergeant in the Thirty Third. His Highness rewarded him with a promotion to Lieutenant in the Ninety Fifth. And now, apparently, he is to be Cinderella's new bodyguard."

"A man jumped up from the ranks?" Lady Christine demanded.

"You might have noticed that we don't really care that much about such things here," Angelique muttered.

"Yes, I had noticed, as it happens, but still," Lady Christine murmured. "Jumped up from the ranks, eh? Well, it proves he can fight if nothing else, I suppose."

"I'm not so sure," Augustina said. "My father says that officers raised up from the ranks invariably turn to drink."

"Maybe they're just fed up of people judging them for being raised from the ranks," Angelique suggested.

Augustina snorted. "You may have a point there."

"I know it's rather late, but I feel as though I ought to get him something, to thank him for saving Eugene's life," Cinderella said. "Eugene gave Jean a pair of duelling pistols to reward him for saving my life, it seems wrong that I don't do the same. What do you think I should get him? A sword?"

"What about a telescope?" Augustina suggested. "A soldier's eyes are as important as his sword, after all?"

"What good is a telescope going to be to him here?" Angelique asked.

"He may not be here forever," Augustina replied. "And the gift may seem more thoughtful if it has no direct application to his work guarding Cinderella."

"Perhaps," Cinderella murmured. "I'll have to think about it. In the meantime, Lady Christine, I've decided, after speaking to Eugene and His Majesty last night, I've decided that – although I still believe that the Aquitainian refugees should be allowed to work while they're here – it cannot be done without the consent of the people, which is to say that it may not happen for a while. Do you think I should go and tell Lady Helen that?"

"I think you must," Marinette said. "What else can you do?"

"Wait until you have a plan to achieve this?" Lady Christine suggested. "After all, the first thing she will ask when you tell her is 'how will it happen'? Best have the answer, or you will look insincere."

"I feel a little insincere, after what I said to her yesterday," Cinderella replied.

"You are doing what is best for Armorique and the royal family," Lady Christine insisted. "You cannot put the throne and your family at risk over these people, unfortunate as their plight may be."

"I suppose not," Cinderella said softly. "Which means I must think of how this is to be done. Thank you, Lady Christine, thank you all. That will be everything for now, I'm sorry to have dragged you up here so early."

"It is our pleasure to be of service, your highness," Lady Christine said.

They took their leave, then, and – with Duchamp still not yet returned – Cinderella herself left her bedroom, and all of her expansive chambers at the pinnacle of the Queen's Tower, and descended down to the nursery to check on the girls.

Alis was there already. She was the nurserymaid; she was not the children's governess, in fact her role was supposed to be not tending to the children but keeping the nursery tidy and clean, but Cinderella also relied upon her to check on the children in her absence, and make sure that they seemed comfortable and not ill or distressed or anything else like that.

She was a young girl about Cinderella's age, with straw coloured hair tied into a low ponytaile, and turquoise eyes.

She curtsied as Cinderella came in. "Good morning, your highness."

"Good morning, Alis," Cinderella said, as she crossed the nursery to stand over the cradle. Isabelle and Annabelle were both asleep, curled up facing in opposite direction. Annabelle looked as though she were trying to put her foot in her own mouth.

Cinderella smiled down at them. "How are they?"

"They've been sleeping peacefully, your highness, they were good as gold all night," Alis informed her.

"Thank you, that's wonderful to hear," Cinderella said, ever so quietly. "But I think that they might-"

Annabelle rolled over, opened her eyes, and began to bawl.

"Wake up hungry any moment now," Cinderella said, a touch of laughter in her voice. "Alis, will you be a dear and undo the back of my nightgown, please?"

"Are you sure you don't want me to fetch the wetnurse, ma'am?"

"No, no, I'll do it," Cinderella said. "I just need your help."

"Of course, your highness," Alis said, curtsying before she walked around the crib and behind Cinderella. Cinderella felt the brush of Alis' fingers against her hair, and against the skin of her neck, as the nurserymaid unfastened her nightgown.

Cinderella shrugged off one side, exposing her left breast to view. She bent down, and scooped up Annabelle in her arms.

"Good morning, Annabelle," she said, even as her daughter cried. "Are you hungry? There you go." She raised Annabelle to her breast, where her daughter bit down upon her nipple and began to suck greedily.

Cinderella felt a little discomfort at this, a little ache where Annabelle bit, a tug as she drank deep, but if that was the price of being a mother then it was a price that she was more than willing to pay.

She turned slightly in place, facing first to the left and then to the right, humming softly as Annabelle suckled, with one hand supporting the baby and with the other gently stroking her head, moving her hand through Annabelle's dark hair.

"Annabelle, I have some wonderful news," she whispered so softly, as if she were trying not to let Alis hear what she had to say. Cinderella began to walk up and down the nursery, bouncing Annabelle ever so slightly up and down. "Your father is going to join me today for the children's hour. Which I will be sure to make more than an hour, because I have very few other duties to occupy me today. Practically nothing at all, in fact, so I can spend as much time with you, and your sister, and Philippe as I wish, and your father will be there too, isn't that wonderful!"

Annabelle continued to suckle at her teat.

A sigh escaped from Cinderella's lips. "Unfortuantely," she went on, and now she really was trying not to let Alis overhear her. "He won't be there for breakfast with His Majesty, and I don't know what to do. I have to admit, the idea of having breakfast with Philippe does feel better, but I don't want…" she trailed off for a moment. "I don't want His Majesty to be all alone," she murmured. But by then she had had the idea.

By good fortune, Isabelle had woken up by the time that Annabelle had finally drunk her fill, and so Cinderella raised her up in turn and let her suckle. Isabelle was not so hungry, but Cinderella had to admit that she felt a little drained by the time that they were done. Nevertheless, she set Isabelle back in the cradle beside her sister, thanked Alis, and left the nursery for the moment, heading next to Philippe's room.

Madeline was there, of course, and she smiled and curtsied and made way before the door as Cinderella approached.

Cinderella banished all the weariness that breastfeeding had brought on – it always did, but it was especially awkward first thing in the morning, and opened the door to Philippe's room. It was dark, the thick curtains admitting precious little light in from outside, but Cinderella knew the way off by heart at this point, and she had no difficulty at all in finding her way to his bed.

She sat down on the edge of the mattress, looking down at Philippe; she couldn't see him very well in the dark, but her imagination supplied all the details that her eyes could not. She placed a hand gently on his shoulder, and gave him the softest of nudges.

"Philippe," she whispered. "Wake up, Philippe, it's morning."

There was a noise, a sort of stirring yawn of burgeoning wakefulness. Philippe made another wordless sound as Cinderella felt, rather than saw, him roll over somewhat on the bed. "Good morning, Mother," he said.

"Good morning, Philippe," Cinderella said, as she got up off his bed and walked around it – again, she didn't need to see to know the way, it was instinctual to her already – to the window of his room, throwing open the curtains to let the sunshine in. "It's a beautiful day already," she said.

She looked back, to see Philippe still lying on his bed, although the light now streaming in illuminated his face.

"I've got wonderful news," Cinderella said. "Your father is going to come and play with you today."

That made Philippe sit up. "Really? He is?"

"Yes," Cinderella promised. "I knew that you'd like that." She crossed the room that she could now see clearly, and sat down now upon the other side of Philippe's bed. As he had sat up, she put one arm around his shoulders, drawing him in and pressing him close against her side. "So think about what you'd like to play, won't you?"

"Do you think he'd play with my knights and castle?" Philippe asked.

"I'm sure he would," Cinderella replied. She'd thought that that might be his choice, they were easily the favourite of Philippe's toys – and why not, the castle was a toymaker's masterpiece? "But before that, how would you like to have breakfast with me this morning?"

Philippe looked up at her, his eyes seeming even larger than normal. "Really?" he asked, with such glee in his voice that Cinderella felt incredibly guilty that she hadn't done this before. He was eating all alone, wasn't he? How could she have allowed that up until now, imagine how lonely he must be? Did he think that he wasn't wanted?

"Really." Cinderella promised.

"That would be brilliant!" Philippe cried, throwing his arms around her waist. "Thank you, Mother."

Cinderella laughed, although in part she laughed to cover up her growing sense of guilt. "Don't thank me too much," she said, taking hold of him and lifting him up so that he was level with her face. "After all, I shall probably spend all breakfast talking about… about dresses, or jewellery or make up and you-" she touched his nose with the tip of her finger, "will find it all frightfully dull and, and boring and completely-"

"Completely wonderful," Philippe said.

Cinderella's face fell. Left alone at every meal since his grandmother passed away, how could I?

How could I forget what that was like?

Philippe blinked. "Mother? What's wrong?"

Cinderella smiled, and pulled Philippe into a hug, their cheeks pressed against one another. Cinderella ran one hand through Philippe's hair as she touched the back of his head. "Nothing's wrong," she said. "Nothing at all." She lowered him down a little, so that she could kiss him on the forehead without breaking her neck. "I love you."

Philippe smiled up at her. "I love you too."

"And that just makes me love you more," Cinderella said, and she kissed him a second time, making him giggle. "Now get washed and dressed, and I'll see you in just a little while, alright?"

Philippe nodded eagerly. "I'm ready for my bath now, Maddy!" he called.

Cinderella giggled, covering her mouth with one hand, as she got up and left Philippe momentarily in Madeline's care, while she returned to her own bedchamber, where Duchamp was waiting with the bathwater.

"I haven't started heating it up, ma'am," she said. "I was wondering where you'd gotten to."

"Just checking on the children, Duchamp, Cinderella said. "Before you start heating the water there are a couple of things I'd like you do for me, I'm afraid. Could you please have someone inform the chef that Philippe and I will be having breakfast up here in my rooms, and he is to prepare three meals."

"Three meals, ma'am?"

"Yes, three meals," Cinderella said. "Because I also want you to have someone inform His Majesty that, as Prince Eugene is otherwise engaged, Phili- I mean His Grace and I will be having breakfast together, and that I would be… I would be delighted if he were to join us."