Until Tonight

The coachman and the footman started to play cards while the princess was in the house.

Jean wasn't surprised by the fact that they didn't invite him to join them: while once he had been the kind of riffraff they would have chased off with a clip round the ear, now he was a lord and an officer, and in neither capacity was he the sort of person that the coachman and the footman would ask to play cards with them.

Not that he would have joined in even if they had asked. His mother, God rest her soul, hadn't approved of gambling and Angelique probably wouldn't like it if he took up the hobby either. He knew from Angelique that amongst the princess' attendants Mademoiselle du Bois and Lady Christine both played for money – according to Angelique the two were the best players in the royal household, and both about as good as one another, with either one able to win out depending on the night - but the princess herself never joined them when there were financial stakes involved and neither did Angelique or Lady Gerard. Leaving aside the fact that her highness considerate as she was, probably recoiled from the idea of taking money from her ladies when she was already rich enough to purchase anything that could be bought and which she might conceivably desire, Jean thought that it was probably not a coincidence that the two who gambled for money were the two who, without intending any offence to them, had never been in a position where there was simply no money left.

None of them were in that position now; thanks to the princess' generosity Jean, Angelique and Lady Gerard were all titled aristocrats with lands and incomes from the same; he had the money to gamble if he wished… but he wouldn't have for long if he gambled it all away. That way lay raiding the princess' jewellery box for things to pawn to pay off your creditors.

So, as Jean waited for the princess to finish her visit with the prince of the Franche-Comte and his wife, he ignored the card game going on on the front seat of the coach. Instead, he looked down, to where Lieutenant L'Escroc was standing, leaning his back upon the side of the carriage, arms folded across his chest.

Jean hadn't quite made his mind up what he felt about Lieutenant L'Escroc yet. The man had an excellent reputation as a soldier – he had saved Prince Eugene's life, amongst various other acts of gallantry during the American War, from capturing a rebel standard at the Battle of Champion Hill to being the first man through the breach at Vicksburg – Jean had spoken to other officers and none them had a bad word to say about him as a fighter. That was a good thing, Jean couldn't leave his post and entrust the princess' wellbeing to a man who couldn't protect her.

But there was something about him. Perhaps Jean had simply been listening to too much gossip, but while none of the officers he'd spoken to had anything ill to say about Lieutenant L'Escroc's competence, when it came to his morals… the word 'rogue' had come up more than once, and Jean had begun to think that it was being very charitable. He had affairs, they said, he had multiple women on the go at once, they said; he had left a native wife back in America but was hardly living a celibate life here in Amorique, they said.

Maybe it was all rumour and lies; God knew the princess herself had had to put up with a lot of made up rubbish about who she slept with over the course of her marriage, and for that reason alone Jean probably shouldn't be so quick to judge.

On the other hand, the princess had also had to put up with at least one man who, seeing a beautiful woman, had desired to possess her no matter what she thought about it, and if half of what Jean had heard was true then Lieutenant L'Escroc had a habit of getting what he wanted when it came to beautiful girls.

And Jean couldn't leave her highness' protection in the hands of someone she couldn't trust.

Jean was endeavouring to make up his own mind, rather than relying on gossip, even if gossip had put him on his guard. But he hadn't made it up yet, when it came to Lieutenant L'Escroc he just couldn't be sure.

He got down out of the coach so that the two were standing on the same ground, even if that did mean Jean had to surrender his height advantage. "Do you gamble, L-L'Escroc." He had debated calling him 'lieutenant' but had decided that would be too formal. Equally however 'Richard' would have been too informal, it wasn't as though they were friends. L'Escroc it was, then.

L'Escroc snorted a little. "I can't afford to bloody gamble."

"Understandable," Jean said. "It's a hard habit to get into. Or perhaps feeling poor is a hard habit to break."
He fell silent, unsure of what to say next. He needed to get to know his putative replacement better, but at the same time he wasn't sure where to begin. Not least because his motives in wanting to get to know L'Escroc better were… well, he didn't really want to know him, only to know what he was like.

L'Escroc sighed. "Why don't you just bloody ask, eh? What do you want to know?"

"I don't know what you mean," Jean murmured.

L'Escroc glanced at him. "You want to know what kind of a man I am," he said. "You want to know if the princess is safe with me."

"Her Highness safety is important to me," Jean said softly.

"His Highness trusts me," L'Escroc said.

"His Highness…" Jean trailed off, not certain how to phrase the fact that that didn't mean as much to as it might do without accidentally – or deliberately – saying something impertinent.

His Highness hasn't always valued Her Highness, his wife, the way that he ought to. His Highness hasn't always thought about Her Highness as much as he should. His Highness thinks about the obvious dangers of someone trying to kill Her Highness, but not about the more subtle ones, like Lucien Gerard.

"You're thinking," L'Escroc said, "that just because I saved His Highness life doesn't mean I'm not a bloody scoundrel, isn't that right?"

"Something like that," Jean said, to get himself out of having to criticise His Highness.

L'Escroc grinned wolfishly as he finally looked at Jean. "Well, you know what? I am a bloody scoundrel. A bloody pirate, that's what General Gerard called me once; but in the breach at Vicksburg, or in the middle of the melee with bloody rebels all around, it was a good thing there were some bloody pirates in our army and not just curry-comb lapdogs in their dancing pumps."

"And what about your wife?" Jean demanded.

L'Escroc's expression hardened; the scar on his face that gave him a near-constant smirking look seemed to become redder, rawer, angrier. "What does my wife have to do with any of this?"
"Are you a faithful man, Lieutenant L'Escroc?" asked Jean.

L'Escroc stared at him for a moment. "You… are you…" he laughed. "You think I want to get myself hanged or something? You think I'd, what, try it on with His Highness' wife!?"

"Her Highness has that effect on some men," Jean said.

L'Escroc snorted. "Men with no sense, maybe," he said. With one hand he rubbed at his slightly stubbled face. "I'm not that stupid. I've heard the rumours, everyone has-"

"They're not true," Jean said.

"But you believed the ones about me?" L'Escroc demanded, his voice rising a little.

"No," Jean said. "But I couldn't afford to just ignore them."

L'Escroc wrinkled his face. "I love my wife," he said. "She's… she's beautiful like an eagle, sharp, like, eyes like a hunter. But I also love…" he trailed off. "Her Highness is beautiful, I won't deny that, but I'm no fool. I'm a common little bastard boy who got made an officer, and every time I walk into the mess I hear them whispering 'came up from the ranks'. I don't belong there, I never will. All I have, I have from His Highness, and without that… I wouldn't that away, even if she wanted it, which it sounds like she won't. Like I said, I've got more sense than that."

Jean was silent. He wasn't sure whether to believe L'Escroc wholly or not – he could be lying, be saying things that he thought Jean would want to hear - but what he was saying certainly sounded plausible enough. He could believe it, it wasn't so incredible that he just couldn't. Did he believe it?

Perhaps. Or perhaps not. He still hadn't quite made up his mind.

But he was closer to making up his mind than he had been just a few moments ago.

Footsteps alerted Jean to the approach of a rather scruffy looking officer, his white coat stained and dirty, approaching from the side of the house. He had been there, Jean recalled, when the princess had arrived; he'd watched her go in.

He just about possessed an officer's uniform, with epaulettes on his shoulders and a sash at his waist, but while his uniform was in almost as poor a state as L'Escroc's, this man's personal appearance was far worse; it looked as though he hadn't shaved in some time, to say nothing of when it looked as though he had last slept.

And yet he moved with a sort of swagger, an arrogance to his gait as though he owned the world, whether it agreed with him or not.

A smile, or a smirk, played across his face as he drew near to them.

"Good morning to you, brothers of the sword," he declared, in a voice that was at once gruff – or gravelly, like he'd been sucking on stones – and enthusiastic at the same time. "I take it that was the famous princess of Armorique whom I just saw going inside the house?"

"It was," L'Escroc said. "And who are you?"

"Oh, I'm no one, no one at all," the other man said. He looked at the door into the house, as though he could see Her Highness through it. "Your princess, she's a pretty thing, isn't she?"

"She's the princess of this country, show some respect," Jean snapped, because he was starting to suspect that this man was not exactly a gentleman.

The scruffy officer looked amused. "Well, if she doesn't want people to think that she's a pretty girl then why does she dress like that?"

"Her highness dresses in a way that pleases her," Jean said coldly. "I doubt she cares for the opinion of the likes of you one way or another."

"The likes of me?" he repeated, still sounding amused. He chuckled as he turned his attention to L'Escroc. "And what does he mean by 'the likes of me'? I ask you, but I think he might mean the likes of you, too."

"No," L'Escroc said. "He doesn't, because what he means by 'the likes of you', is a bloody idiot whose going to get my foot up his arse if he doesn't bugger off!"

The scruff officer widened his eyes indignantly. "I am part of a diplomatic mission-"

"Is that right?" L'Escroc asked. "I don't know much about bloody diplomacy, but I doubt it's very diplomatic to visit some other country and smack your chops while talking about their princess like she's a hog on a hook in a butcher's shop. So why don't you turn around, and get out of our sight, or we'll see what your prince thinks about all this – or ours, if it comes to it."

The scruffy-looking officer glanced from one, to the other, then back again. "Alright," he said, holding up his hands. "Alright." He chuckled. "And here I thought you were men."

He turned, and strode back the way he had come and even further, disappearing into the stables.

"What do you think that was about?" Jean asked.

"I've got no bloody clue," L'Escroc replied. "He seemed half mad. Maybe he was. Maybe he was trying to get a rise out of us so he could claim some kind of incident if one of us hit him."

Jean looked at him. "What would be the point of that?"

L'Escroc shrugged. "Don't ask me. It could happen, though."

"Hmm," Jean murmured, as he hoped the people inside the house were friendlier than the people outside.

Inside the stable, Amelie folded her arms across her chest. "What was that all about?"

Avenant shrugged. "She was pretty, wasn't she?"

"That's not the point and you know it," Amelie snapped. "You also know that if Her Majesty heard you talking that way about a princess she'd have your tongue out. So what were you doing?"

"I wanted to get a feel for those two," Avenant said. "Her bodyguards, unless I miss my guess. Officers of her guard, anyway. I wanted to see how they'd react."

"Angrily," Amelie said. "I could hear them from in here. So what? They were right to be angry. I'd get angry if I heard you talking about Her Majesty like that. And compared to the way some of Her Majesty's lifeguards would react those two officers were properly restrained. You've still got both your hands, for a start. You should think yourself lucky."

"I think one of them thinks she's pretty, too," Avenant said. "The scruffy one."

"You're one to talk," Amelie remarked. "You should wash that uniform of yours now that we're settle here in Armorique for the foreseeable." She paused. "What makes you so sure."

"The other one was uptight," Avenant said. "You said that there were all sorts of rumours about the princess of Armorique?"

Amelie nodded. "She gets accused of a lot of things. A lot of gossip. The kind of nonsense that they used to say about Her Majesty when she was still new to Bavaria, before the old King died. Nobles are the same everywhere, at least to begin with. Every outsider, high or low, has to win them over against their will."

Avenant didn't reply to that. Instead, he said, "The boy has heard it all before, and he's fed up with it. That's why he reacted the way he did, but the other one, the scruffy one-"

"Hypocrite."

"I'll wash it at some point, just get off my back," Avenant muttered. "The point is, he was angry because he wanted me to shut up, because the more I kept talking the harder it was for him to ignore the fact that he agreed with me."

Amelie raised her eyebrows. "First of all, that's a very big assumption that you're making; second of all, even if it's true-"

"It's true."

"Even if it's true how does it help us?" Amelie demanded. "What does any of this matter with the princess' guards? They're nothing to us."
"They might be something, if the word comes for you to assassinate the princess."

Amelie licked her lips. "An order like that… it wouldn't get her majesty anything."
"It might be better to have a war with Armorique, than to have half the nations in Europe demanding that Her Majesty makes peace, don't you think?" asked Avenant.

Amelie hesitated for a moment. "I… suppose. But even so-"

"I know, it doesn't help on its own, but the more we know, the better," Avenant insisted. "I know a little more about those two than I did before, and a little knowledge is always a good thing."

"It was so very nice to meet you, Belle," Cinderella said, as Belle walked her to the door.

"Likewise," Belle said, with a smile playing across her face. "It was very, very refreshing to meet… a good princess."

Cinderella chuckled softly as she covered her mouth with one hand. "Please, you're going to make me blush terribly. So, we'll see you and Adam tonight for dinner?"

"You certainly will," Belle said. We shall have to get our clothes laundered, and quickly too. She couldn't wear this day dress to a banquet and ball. She held out her hands. "Thank you," she said. "I wasn't sure what to expect from this trip but meeting you… you've made me look forward to the rest of our time here."

Cinderella's smile was so bright and genuine as she took Belle's hands gently in hers and gave them a squeeze. "That was my only intention," she said. "It was so nice to meet you both; I can't wait for you to meet my husband."

"Neither can I," Belle said, as she opened the door for Cinderella and let the sunlight flood into the hallway, casting Cinderella's white dress in an even more radiant glow than it had possessed in the shadow of the unlit corridor. "Now take care."

"I will," Cinderella said, as she picked up the folds of her gown in both hands and began to descend the stone steps. She turned, and waved to Belle, who waved back as Cinderella climbed into the carriage, with her two guards swiftly getting in after.

Only when the royal coach began to pull away did Belle close the front door.

Adam emerged from out of the parlour. "That went surprisingly well, didn't it?"

Belle turned away from the door. "Surprising? I'm astonished. Before I met her I never would have been able to conceive of someone like her wearing a crown."

"It's probably a tiara."

Belle raised her eyebrows.

Adam snorted. "I'm sorry. What is it that you couldn't have conceived of? A princess who is a nice person?"

"Unfortunately, that is part of it," Belle muttered.

Adam frowned. "You're being a little harsh there."

"Name one princess, queen of archduchess whom we had met before Cinderella who treated us with a sliver of kindness or consideration?" Belle asked. "And besides, it isn't actually just that Cinderella was – is – kind and decent; it's that she's so transparent about it. There wasn't even an attempt to obfuscate anything about herself. Either she's a much better liar than I've given her credit for or she's wearing her heart on her… she isn't wearing sleeves so I suppose she must be wearing it on her gloves. I…"

"What?" Adam asked.

"Considering some of the people that I've met since I married you, I'm a little amazed that she can still be so… as she is," Belle said.

Adam nodded. "Yes, I suppose that I can see what you mean. Still, I'm glad that she has."

"So am I," Belle said. She couldn't entirely dismiss the feeling that she and Adam were being a little selfish in their seeking of advancement for Belle when there was a war going on and a peace in Europe that was barely holding together, but as they were not yet at the stage where they had to choose between what they personally wanted and the good of the world she didn't think it necessary to bring it up.

It wasn't selfish if you could have what you wanted and the greater good, after all. How could it be?

"We should probably choose what we want to wear tonight," Belle said. "And find somebody to get the creases out of it. After all, we haven't that long left until tonight."

"Did you have a good time, your highness?" Jean asked as he helped Cinderella into the coach.

"Yes, it was lovely," Cinderella said as she sat down and opened up her parasol to shield her from the sun. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."

"You could have spent far longer there, princess, and no one would have objected," Jean said.

Nobody would have said anything, you mean. Cinderella had known that already – she wasn't a complete naïf – but she also knew from personal experience that you didn't need to say a thing to feel it. "I spent long enough," she said, waving to Belle as she stood at the door. "And I'll be seeing them both later on tonight anyway."

"Back to the palace, your highness?" the coachman asked.

"No, thank you, I'd like to call on Princess Frederica," Cinderella said.

"Highness?" Jean asked, as the coachman cracked the reins and the horses began to move, pulling the open carriage behind them.

"There's something that I need to speak to her about," Cinderella explained. "I really won't be very long this time, I promise."

"It is nothing to us, princess, nor any of our business," Jean said. "Take as much time as you need."

"Princess Frederica?" asked Lieutenant L'Escroc.

"The princess of Normandie," Cinderella explained. "She has been staying here in Armorique for a while now, and she has been a very good friend to me."

"Norman soldiers came to fight with us in America, our allies," Lieutenant L'Escroc said. "Tough buggers-" he stopped. "I mean, um, begging your pardon, your highness, I didn't mean to-"
"It was an honest mistake, I'm sure," Cinderella murmured, even as she hoped that it was a mistake which he wouldn't repeat. "But yes, they did contribute to the war in America. That was partly Frederica's doing; she and I came to an agreement." And so the war in Louisiana had been won, albeit at the cost of one of Armorique's Caribbean islands.

Cinderella hoped that for Armorique, Louisiana had been worth Saint Domingue. For herself, having Eugene back home safe and sound and victorious had been worth a dozen Saint Domingues.

The coach conveyed Cinderella to the front door of the town house that Princess Frederica Eugenie de la Fontaine of Normandie had rented in the capital of Armorique, which was – as Cinderella had already noted, wondering if there was something about this part of the city – not so very far away from where Adam and Belle had set up their headquarters. The door was opened by Anton, Frederica's loyal retainer, who welcomed her and conveyed her into the sitting room, where Frederica herself joined her a moment later.

"Cinderella," Frederica said as she glided in. The Princess of Normandie wore her jet black hair in braided curls falling down behind her neck, and she was presently wearing a long-sleeved dress of a green that matched her eyes. She took Cinderella by the arms as she kissed her upon her cheeks. "It's always wonderful to see you, although I thought you might be too busy to drop in on me today, what with preparations for tonight's banquet and the like."

"Well, I'm afraid that I can't stay very long," Cinderella said, with a glance at the clock on the mantelpiece that told it had past noon already.

"No tea, then?"

"No, I simply haven't the time," Cinderella said, she thought it was unnecessary to mention that she had just had tea.

"Do you have time to sit?" Frederica asked, gesturing to the green velvet settee nearby.

Cinderella smiled. "Yes, I think so." She and Frederica sat down upon the same settee, facing one another, their legs tucked up on the seat so their knees were almost touching and the white of Cinderella's gown was in places submerged beneath the green of Frederica's skirt.

"I hope I haven't torn you away from anything important by appearing uninvited at your door like this," Cinderella said softly.

"Nothing that I can't return too after a pause," Frederica replied. "I was just writing a letter to my father. It will keep. Don't worry. I should be asking what could be so important that you can tear yourself away from ball and banquet preparations to come and see me."

"Frederica," Cinderella protested. "You make it sound as though I only come to visit you when I want something."

Frederica chuckled as she reached out and clasped Cinderella's hands. "If that's what I seemed to be saying then I'm sorry, we both know that isn't true." With one thumb she pushed Cinderella's engagement ring slightly askew, until one of the flanking sapphires was touching her other finger. "Now, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I've just come from meeting Prince Adam of the Franche-Comte and his wife, Belle," Cinderella began.

"Ah," Frederica said. "What did you think of them?"

"Do you know them?"

"I wouldn't say that I know them," Frederica replied. "But I attended their wedding. I thought she was rather unhappy."

"Belle?" Cinderella asked.

"Yes," Frederica said. "She struck me as someone who was trying to convince herself that things weren't as bad as they were."

"It is a terrible situation that she's in," Cinderella said. "I can't imagine what it must be like for her, to be… to be set so far from the man she loves in every situation except the most private and intimate."

"Mmm," Frederica murmured. "Our laws pay scant regard for love, and the laws of the Old Empire even less. You were very lucky to escape that fate."

"I know, believe me, I know," Cinderella said. "That is why…" she hesitated, momentarily, for fear of how Frederica might react to this. "I would like to treat Belle as Adam's equal wife, as far as possible, while she's here with us. Which means that at tonight's banquet she'll be seated on Prince Eugene's right… above you."

"Oh!" Frederica cried. "Oho, I see! I am forsaken!" She put one hand to her forehead and leaned backwards as though she was going to faint. "Cast out like an old toy, broken and unwanted, now that you have a new friend to favour and to fawn upon!"

Cinderella looked away. "Frederica, it isn't like that. I didn't do this to upset you; I'm sorry, I just-"

"I know," Frederica said, her voice rich with amusement. "But you look so adorable when you get flustered like that."

Cinderella gave her a reproachful look, which didn't appear to faze Frederica in the least.

"So…" Cinderella said after a moment. "It doesn't upset you, that you'll be sat below Belle?"

"No," Frederica said. "Loath as I am to quote my father on any subject, he has a certain saying whenever he is slighted or made little of: Normandie will still be Normandie. As much as I disagree with him on… everything, he has a point there. Belle can sit ahead of me at the dining table but at the end of the day Normandie will still be Normandie and the Franche-Comte will still be the Franche-Comte."

"And you'll still be a princess and Belle will still be a commoner in a morganatic marriage," Cinderella said softly.

"I didn't say that," Frederica said.

"No," Cinderella agreed. "But that doesn't make it any less true, does it?" Put like that it seemed to make a mockery of her efforts: it might make Belle feel better, but it wouldn't really change a thing.

Frederica let go of one of Cinderella's hands, and gently stroked her cheek with the back of her fingers. "The truth of it does not make it any less kind of you to do as you have decided. How did she take it?"

"Very well," Cinderella said. "They were both very pleased."

"Isn't that enough?" Frederica asked. She grinned. "So, what did you think of them both?"

"They were both very nice to me," Cinderella said. "Once they realised that I wasn't there to be cruel to them."

"They were suspicious?"

"I think so, yes," Cinderella said. "They must have been badly treated by… someone in my position."

Frederica pursed her lips together. "I find that I can imagine that very easily." For a moment, her fingertips rested upon Cinderella's cheek. Her fingers were cold, and though she didn't say anything Cinderella found that they chilled her face a little. "Be careful," Frederica said.

Cinderella blinked. "Be careful? I don't understand. What should I be careful about?"

Frederica was silent for a moment. "You are the kindest girl that I've ever met. You offer your heart to those you meet without hesitation. And I can understand that you feel sympathy for this girl Belle, in the position that she's in."

"But?" Cinderella asked.

Frederica chuckled. "You are learning, aren't you? The but, yes indeed, the but. But these people did not come here to be your friends but to serve the Empire, to see if Armorique could be an impartial host to a congress to decide the war."

"I know that," Cinderella said. "And I'm determined to do what I can to make it a success."

"That won't happen if you're seen to have gone too far in the other direction; favouring one side is no better than favouring the other," Frederica said. "The host nation must be impartial or how can it play host?"

"Why does impartial have to mean cold?" Cinderella replied. "Why does judging the issues impartially mean that I can't be kind towards everyone involved while they are our guests here?"

"It doesn't, I suppose," Frederica said. "But standing behind Belle and Adam is Maria Theresa, Archduchess of Austria and Dowager Queen of Bavaria, the power behind the Imperial throne; if this congress of nations goes ahead as planned, if she comes… you must be on your guard to her. If you offer her your heart with a lovely smile as you so often do…" Frederica ran her fingers through Cinderella's hair, brushing against the white rose woven into her strawberry blonde locks. "I'm worried that she'll eat you alive."

"People have been trying to eat me alive from the moment Eugene put this ring on my finger," Cinderella said softly.

"True," Frederica admitted. "But Maria Theresa is different. More ruthless than Serena, more intelligent than Grace; capable of greater cruelty than the Duke when convinced of the rightness of her cause." She scowled. "Eleanor of Aquitaine is just as bad in her own way. I wonder if your father-in-law understands what a pair of vipers he will be playing host to at this congress, and to what extent they will be willing to tear Armorique apart in order to triumph over the other."

"You know them?" Cinderella asked.

"Maria Theresa I know mainly by reputation, although our paths have crossed once," Frederica said. "Eleanor I thought I knew very well… until she proved by her actions that I had never really known her at all."

Cinderella leaned forward. "What happened?"

"I… I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind," Frederica said. "One doesn't like to dwell on one's most egregious failures, after all."

Cinderella didn't press the point. She knew perfectly well what Frederica was talking about, she too had things that she would rather not discuss, memories that she would rather not share. "I understand that you're trying to protect me, but I don't like the idea of being hostile to people who have given me no cause for it. Belle and Adam-"

"I'm not talking about Belle and Adam, if you can befriend them and you wish to do so then so be it," Frederica said. She clasped Cinderella's hands so tightly it was almost painful. "But Maria Theresa – Eleanor too, when or if she comes – you must be wary of them, warier than you are of strangers in your life. Please, Cinderella, trust me when I say that they have no interest in friendship, no compassion for love, no mercy for kindness. They will not spare you because you are a mother, because you have done them no wrong, not even because you are the sweetest girl who ever drew breath. You must be on your guard because… because by the time they give you open cause for wariness they will have destroyed you. Please, Cinderella, promise me that you will take care. Domestic politics and the court have forgiven a few errors, but international statecraft will not, not with such serpents as these. Please be careful."

Cinderella stared into Frederica's green eyes. She had never seen such concern in them before, it was honestly a little worrying. "I… I don't understand why you're so worried, or rather I don't know these people… but I suppose you do, and I suppose that I should trust what you say about them. I may not like to be suspicious of people without giving them a chance, but… but you have been such a good friend to me, and I trust you, with my life. So if you say that there is something to worry then I will worry when the time comes." She didn't like it, and it went against her instincts and her nature, but Frederica had never lied to her nor steered her wrong, so Cinderella would not ignore her now.

"Thank you," Frederica said, as she leaned forward to kiss Cinderella on the forehead. "I… I don't think I could bear it if any harm came to you, you… you are my hope."

Cinderella was silent for a moment, looking into Frederica's eyes. "I'm sorry, I… I wish I knew what I could say to that."

Frederica smiled, and let out a sort of chuckle. "You don't need to say anything," she said, as she embraced Cinderella by the arms and squeezed. "You just need to live. Live, and be happy."

Cinderella smiled. "I… I'm afraid I should probably be going."

"Of course," Frederica said, as they both got off the settee and rose to their feet. She gave Cinderella a tight hug, holding her close for a moment before she let her go. "I'll see you tonight?"

"Yes, of course."

"To be sat beneath your new friend Belle."

"Frederica-"

"I know, I know," Frederica assured her with a smile. "Goodbye, until tonight."

"Yes," Cinderella said. "Until tonight."