The Princess and the King

His Majesty the King arrived not long after, preceded by the heavy sounds of his footsteps climbing the many stairs up to the top of the Queen's Tower. Those sounds gave Cinderella time to prepare, if not as much time as she might have liked. If any amount of time to prepare would have been enough to prepare for this.

She had loved His Majesty once. Once she had looked upon him almost as a second father, for as a father he had been to her: fond, indulgent, supportive.

Then...

Then he had hit her.

It had not been his fault, she knew that in her head, Grace had ensorcelled him and made him do those things, but all the same... it was so hard now to think of anything else but the way he had bellowed at her in anger, the way he had thrashed her about the head with a flute, the way that he had commanded the guards to restrain her while she fled in tears from the dining room.

She... Cinderella did not want him here, in her inner sanctum, in her place if safety, but... but he was Eugene's father she could not ignore him. For Eugene's sake, she had to try and keep company with him.

And she had loved him once. If she could love him again as once she had... she would be very well pleased.

Cinderella got up from her seat, and held onto Philippe by the hand, and waited as the heavy footsteps came ever closer.

His Majesty appeared in the doorway, tugging at the bottom of his jacket with a pair of meaty hands, hands that could... no, no she could not think of that, think like that, she must not.

Cinderella curtsied. "Your Majesty."

Philippe bowed. "Good morning, Grandfather."

The King beamed fondly down upon him. "Good morning, my boy!" he said jovially. "And how are you this morning?"

"I'm very well, thank you, Grandfather," Philippe replied. "Father is going to play with me today!"

"Is he? Is he indeed?" asked the King chuckled. "I may join you both. On fact I think I will. It had been too long since your father and I played together. I'm afraid he's a little too big to ride on my back these days." He winked conspiratorially.

Philippe giggled. "And how are you, Grandfather?"

A little of His Majesty's jovial manner seemed to leave him. He sighed, and his voice was softer as he said, "If my subjects are well, then I am well, if my family is well then I am well. A good king, my boy, must live for others than himself, and take his happiness from theirs, not from his own pleasure." Now, at last, he looked at Cinderella. "And you, Cinderella? How fare you this morning?"

Cinderella smiled. Once she would have kissed him good morning on the forehead, but now she did not. But she did smile. "I am very well, Your Majesty, it's a lovely morning and I had a very pleasant night."

"Ah, I am glad," said His Majesty. He gestured with both hands towards the settee behind him. "Well, sit down, both of you, no point standing around like scarecrows in the field!"

Cinderella took her seat, and smoothed out her skirt with both hands as Philippe sat down beside her.

"It is so common as to be a commonplace," His Majesty said as he took the seat opposite her, "but you look very lovely this morning, my dear."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Cinderella said softly. She cleared her throat. "Your Majesty, I was just telling Philippe that from now on he will be taking breakfast and dinner with me."

His Majesty looked at her, blinking in surprise. "Does that mean that you will no longer be gracing us with your presence in the dining hall?"

"Not necessarily, Your Majesty," Cinderella said, putting one arm around Philippe's shoulders as she spoke. "I don't see why Philippe can't have breakfast in the dining hall with the three of us."

The King gave a sort of nod. "But dinner might be a little late."

"I suppose so, Your Majesty," Cinderella allowed. "But I don't have to eat myself as long as I'm there. Philippe, isn't it true that you've been eating by yourself since your grandmother passed away?"

Philippe nodded. "Yes, Mother."

The King was silent a moment, his mouth slightly open, his eyes a little wide. "Since... of course. If course, to be sure. Forgive me, my boy, please forgive... I had forgot. I did not think."

"Neither did I, Your Majesty," Cinderella murmured.

"But you have thought now, and thought well," His Majesty said. "Very well, you shall break fast with us in the dining hall from now on, young Philippe, and we shall give thought to when you will be old enough to dine with us in hall as well."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Cinderella said softly.

"Thank you, Grandfather," Philippe added.

"Of course, of course, think nothing of it, nothing at all," His Majesty said. "If course, if you are going to eat with adults, you must learn to, if not appreciate, then at least yo tolerate, adult conversation. You will not interrupt, and you will not complain. I expect you to listen, and to try to understand."

Philippe was quiet for a moment. "What if I don't understand, Grandfather?"

"Then someone may explain it to you," His Majesty said. "Do you understand what a war is?"

"Father went to war, before my sisters were born," replied Philippe, "in America."

"Quite right, so he did, and many other men with him."

"Like General Gérard."

"Precisely," said His Majesty. "But do you know what a war is? Do you know what your father and General Gérard did in America?"

Again, Philippe went quiet for a moment. "Is it... it's like when I play with my tin soldiers."

"Hmm," murmured the King. "I suppose you could say that, but in a war, those who have fallen do not get put back into the box ready to be played with again. They are gone beyond recall... like your mother, and grandmother... both your grandmothers."

Philippe frowned. "You mean... Father's mother?"

The King nodded solemnly. "Indeed, my own Queen Isabelle, for whom your half-sister is named."

"What was she like?" asked Philippe.

"Philippe-" Cinderella began, intending to gently rebuke him for the question, but His Majesty raised one hand to forestall her.

"It's quite alright, my dear, the question is a fair one," he said. He glanced at her. "I have never spoken to you about Eugene's mother, have I?"

"No, Your Majesty, except to give me some of her gowns to wear when I first arrived in the palace."

"Yes, I recall, they suited you very well," His Majesty murmured. He paused for a moment, before he said, "Queen Isabelle was my cousin," he said. "Her grandfather and mine - my grandfather being King Francis the Tenth - had been brothers. Isabelle had a claim to the throne in her own right, albeit not as good as my own."

"What is a claim on the throne, Grandfather?"

"It means that, since Isabelle had royal blood, she could say - could claim - that she should be Queen of Armorique. Of course, I, being the eldest son of the previous king, had a better claim, and so did my younger brother, but..."

Cinderella frowned a little. "Your Majesty?"

"Yes, forgive me, I... Isabelle was very well liked amongst the people. In that respect, if no other, she was very like you, Cinderella. She walked amongst the people on the streets, she distributed alms, she patronised charities, she was well known and well loved and my father feared that the people would prefer her for their Queen over myself. I was neither terribly well known, nor did seeing me make people love me well."

"Had you been away, Majesty?" Cinderella asked.

"In America," the King said. "I had gone to oversee the development of our colonies there. I was fascinated by the place: so vast, compared to here, so endless and so endlessly productive. There is this animal called the buffalo, I could say that it us like an oversized woolly cow-"

Philippe giggled at the image.

"Yes, I thought that would amuse a small boy," the King said. "But the truth is... the truth is they are majestic creatures. And so many of them, herds stretching out for miles. Did you know that the natives of the land out in America farm no crops, they grow no produce, they lived entirely upon the buffalo?" His Majesty chuckled. "I sometimes wondered why our colonists could not do the same, why they were condemned to labour at the earth. It seems unavoidable. And yet my fascination with the new world did not make me popular in the old one, and so my father proposed - commanded, rather, that I should marry my cousin and secure the future of the monarchy through her popularity."

"If I may say, Your Majesty, I am very glad you didn't command Eugene to marry someone of your choosing."

The King laughed. "I... I grew to live my wife, in time, but I never quite forgot what it was like to have the choice forced upon me thus. As much to the point, perhaps, I never forgot what it was like for Isabelle. Her father jumped at the chance for his daughter to be a queen and his grandson a king, but Isabelle herself was less than thrilled to be my bride. It did not make for... I wanted Eugene to have a wife with whom he was happy, and who was happy with him, if it could be managed. Hence the ball, to let him such a girl, and she find him. As you did, vindication my decisions on that regard."

Cinderella smiled. "But you did come to love one another, didn't you?"

"Yes," His Majesty said. "Yes, we did, with time and patience. After all, Isabelle was kind and understanding, and she gave me the benefit of both those qualities in the end. She was committed but not stubborn, she could change her mind if you could convince her that she should. She was not fond of the colonies but allowed me to convince her that they represented opportunity, not expense. She disliked dancing but loved music, we held more concerts than balls in the palace while she lived. She was gregarious, she liked nothing more than to entertain, and I'm entertaining to influence. I can remember her still, sparkling in diamonds - she loved diamonds, just as you prefer pearls - holding court amongst a throng of women, winning them around to her perspective." Again he sighed. "She was a great queen," he said. "A great queen and, though it took me a little while to realise it, a perfect wife."

His shoulders were hunched, his back was bent, and his head was bowed.

Cinderella felt consumed with guilt. It gripped her heart and squeezed it tight. Here was a man, not a monster; a man who had been kind and yet latterly... yer latterly she had allowed her fears to make her cruel to him.

"Forgive me," she whispered.

The King blinked. "My dear?"

Cinderella got to her feet. "Forgive me, Your Majesty, I beg you, I have... I have done you wrong."

The King looked at her, stared at her. Stares at her and said nothing. Not fir a moment, not for a second, not for a while that stretched out while Philippe, uncomprehending, looked between them from one to the other.

"I hurt you," His Majesty said. "I have never blamed you for holding me responsible for the actions of my own hand."

"But you were hurt as well, Your Majesty," Cinderella said. "And I... I compounded the hurt by hurting you yet further. You were not yourself and yet I have... I have treated you as though it were in your nature to do me harm."

The King closed his eyes. "I have been King of Armorique these many years past," he said, "And in that time I have no doubt made many mistakes, but there is nothing that I regret more than what I did to you, my daughter in law, princess of my realm, mother to my grandchildren, my sweet girl. I would never hurt you. I wish nothing but joy for you."

"I... I cannot promise that I will not shrink from your anger, Your Majesty," Cinderella admitted. "Flinch when you shout, recoil from your temper, but... but no more will I avoid you, I promise, and no more will I pretend the fault I'd yours, not mine. Please, Your Majesty, forgive-"

"Forgive what?" asked the King softly. "Forgive a frightened girl, forgive a victim, forgive one who had already been abused by those who should have loved her like their own kin? No, dear Cinderella, there is nothing to forgive, and when you ask forgiveness I, in turn, ask you for your blessing. Shrink from my wrath, it may teach me to control it better, only now kiss me, and for my part I'll hold all right between us."

Cinderella smiled. "Gladly, Your Majesty," she said. She smiled as she crossed the distance between them, placed her gloved hands upon his shoulders, and placed a gentle kiss upon his forehead.

"What's going on?" Philippe asked.

"Oh, nothing, Philippe," Cinderella assured him, as she swept back to her seat next to him on the settee. "Nothing at all." She put one arm around him, and gave him a kiss as well, in case he was feeling left out.

Philippe smiled up at her, but then he looked towards His Majesty once more and said, "Grandfather?"

"Yes, my boy?"

"What was the war in America about?" Philippe asked. "Where Father and General Gerard had to go away?"

"In America," His Majesty replied, resting his hands upon his knees, "are our colonies. Do you know what a colony is?"

Philippe frowned. "It's… it's somewhere people go, away from home, to find new homes, isn't it?"

"There can be more to it," the King said, "but that is the simplest summary of it, yes, except that it only really applies to those who found the colony; if they have children, and grandchildren, who live in the place that their parents and grandparents founded, then they remain colonists and the place they live remains a colony. In essence, being a colony means that they are as much my subjects as anyone who lives here in Armorique, and yet our colonists in America attempted to rebel against my rule, the rule of Armorique. So your father led our army, including General Gerard and many others, to put down their rebellion and restore our government."

Philippe was silent for a moment. "But why?" he asked. "Why would anyone want to rebel against you, Grandfather?"

His Majesty chuckled. "That," he said, "that is an explanation that may have to wait until you are older."

"Alright," Philippe said. "But why did you ask me if I knew what a war was?"

"Because there is another war," Cinderella said softly. "One that is happening right now, and your father, and your grandfather and I spend a lot of time talking about it, and you'll hear a lot about it if you have breakfast with us; your grandfather wants to know, I think, if you will understand what we're talking about."

His Majesty nodded. "Precisely."

Philippe's face fell, and he pressed himself a little tighter against Cinderella's side, bowing his head a little.

"Philippe?" Cinderella asked. "What's the matter?"

"Does that mean… does that mean Father will have to go away again?" Philippe asked softly.

"Oh, no," Cinderella said gently, and as she spoke she picked Philippe up and lifted him onto her lap. "No, you see… oh, how awful of me, I've given you completely the wrong idea, there is a war going on, but Armorique isn't fighting. Your father isn't fighting, nobody from this country is."

"But wars have consequences," His Majesty said. "Like a stone dropped into water. If you were to take a pebble and drop it into the stream that runs through the garden, what would happen?"

"It would ripple," Philippe said.

"Precisely!" cried His Majesty. "And just so wars send ripples out through nations, even those that are not fighting in them. Though we are not at war, nevertheless war is upon our border, and we cannot ignore that fact. It is the most important thing going on in the world today, and we – your father, your stepmother and myself – must talk of it and act upon it. So, your father is strengthening the defences of our kingdom in case we must fight in this war, while the princess is addressing the question of those people who have fled from the fighting into our country."

"And we are all doing everything we can to make sure that your father doesn't have to fight in any more wars," Cinderella added to reassure Philippe. "By hosting a great gathering of all the kings and queens and crowns of Europe to find a peaceful solution that will bring the fighting to an end."

"What are they fighting about?"

"A claim to a throne," said His Majesty. "A claim to a throne. So you see, perhaps my father was right to insist upon my marriage after all."

Lieutenant Richard L'Escroc was a short man, about the same height as the princess he might soon be protecting, although buried and broader in the shoulders. His hair was a dirty blond, worn down to his collar at the back while stopping just past his ears on a pair of sideburns on either side of his face. He had a firm jawline, chiselled cheekbones, a hard quality to his look that suggested he hadn't been so much born as hewn out of some tough rustic stone.

A handsome face, perhaps, the sort of face that se men would fear to leave their wives or daughters alone with.

Certainly the kind of face Etienne feared to leave Marinette alone with, somewhat.

L'Escroc had a scar on one cheek, descending to his mouth; it made him look as though he was smirking, as though there were a private joke that only he understood.

He was dressed in the blue jacket of the voltigeurs, the elite light infantry, complete with the scarlet cuffs and epaulettes of the light troops, but he had also acquired from somewhere the trousers of a Chasseur a Cheval colonel of the Royal Guard: black, with silver buttons running down the sides until they disappeared beneath his high black riding boots.

Voltigeur officers were supposed to carry a light, slender sabre, but L'Escroc carried the straight, heavy sword of the cuirassiers, the butcher's blade that could cleave through a man from above; he also carried a musket slung across his shoulder as though he were still in the ranks.

He stood in Etienne Gerard's office, standing rigidly to attention, a scowl - or at least what Etienne thought might be a scowl, settle upon his features.

"L'Escroc," Prince Eugene said, evenly but amiably.

"Your highness," muttered L'Escroc. He spoke with a very pronounced provincial accent.

"How have you been?" Eugene asked.

L'Escroc hesitated for a moment. "They..." He trailed off, hesitating. "You said I could sell my commission, your highness."

"Did I?"

"Yes," L'Escroc said firmly. His tone softened. "Yes, your highness, you did, but now... now they tell me I can't sell. That I can't sell what the King has given me."

Etienne glanced at Eugene. Suffice to say they weren't going to get very far with a man who wanted out of the army; and who would want a man looking wistfully towards the door guarding that which was most precious to him?

"I... I'm sorry to hear that, L'Escroc," Eugene replied. "I hope you'll take my word that I honestly didn't realise. I don't promote men from the ranks as often as all that." He smiled, to show he spoke in jest, but it didn't appear to be particularly appreciated by L'Escroc. Eugene cleared his throat. "I daresay that-"

"Why," Etienne said, cutting Prince Eugene off before he could finish that thought, "do you want to sell your commission?"

Marriage, and marriage to Cinderella in particular, had been good for Eugene. It had, on the whole, made him a better person. But it had also made him the sort of person who would pay this rogue to leave the army, because that was what Cinderella would have done abs while such kindness was all very well Etienne would like to find out why they ought to first.

"Is peacetime service so arduous to you?" Etienne went on.

"I was going to go south, sir, to Aquitaine."

Etienne blinked. "You want to leave His Majesty's Army so that may... seek a commission with the Aquitainians."

"No sir, with the Empire," L'Escroc said. "They say there'll be rich rewards when they take Bourdeaux."

"I wouldn't count your plunder yet, they've not yet reached Bourdeaux, " Etienne muttered. "They may not, fir a host of reasons."

"Is the plunder all?" Eugene asked. "The justice of either side's cause means nothing?"

"Where was the justice in our cause in America, your highness?" L'Escroc asked.

"Your impertinent, L'Escroc," Etienne growled.

"Yes, sir," L'Escroc replied.

"I didn't ask you here for your thoughts on Armorique's foreign policy," Eugene said. "I sent for you to offer you a job."

"Your highness?"

"The officer commanding my wife's bodyguard is leaving his post," Eugene explained. "As the best fighter I can name in this army, I'd like for you to replace him."

L'Escroc let out a gasp of surprise. "Me? You want me to guard your wife?"

"You sound so surprised," Eugene murmured.

"I'm not... I thought, for something like that... you'd want a proper officer."

Etienne leaned forwards on his desk. "Do you want to sell your commission to go and join the Common Army or do you just want to get out of the officers' mess so you can stop getting snubbed by snobs?"

L'Escroc didn't answer.

"My wife, Princess Cinderella, was a servant girl before I married her," Eugene said.

"Everyone knows that, your highness," L'Escroc pointed out.

"And her current guard officer, the fellow you'll be replacing, was nothing but a common street urchin before Cinderella, Princess Cinderella, raised him up. On top of which there have been..." Eugene's mouth moved silently. "Five different attempts on Cinderella's life since our marriage. Or something on that vein, anyaway, it's depresssingky hard to keep count. The point is, yrust me, L'Escroc, this isn't a job for a well born fop, this is a job for a man who can fight. And I know that you can fight very well indeed." He paused for a moment. "Besides which, of you think that there'll be less snobbery in the Common Army than there is in ours you'll ne on firba very rude awakening." Eugene paused for a moment. "What is it that you want, L'Escroc?"

L'Escroc didn't respond.

"You can speak freely," Eugene urged.

L'Escroc licked his lips. "I reckon I'd like to go home in a fancy uniform, with rank, and money, and give my old nan such a thumping as he's never had before on his life, your highness."

"I see," Eugene murmured. "Well, I must admit that I'm not sure about wealth, but keep my wife safe and you won't find me ungenerous. How does Captain L'Escroc sound? Maybe even Major L'Escroc, eventually?"

L'Escroc's eyes widened. Etienne could see the hunger on his face, the desire. He was practically slobbering. "That sounds very good, your highness. I... thank you, Your highness. The princess... I'll keep her safe, you... you have my word."

"I feel better already," Eugene said. "I want you to start getting a feel for the job before Taurillion departs, so get your things and report to the palace, on the double."