Stick and Carrot
Cinderella waited at the palace steps, just beyond the doors, and just beyond the guards, too, who stood sentinel upon those same doors and the corridor beyond.
Eugene stood with her, one hand upon her waist, two fingers upon the blue sash tied around it, two upon the white silk of her bodice.
His other hand held hers, and squeezed it reassuringly.
"They're perfectly alright, you know," he reminded her. "Etienne's message said they hadn't even been attacked, just that-"
"That someone was out there, waiting for them," Cinderella murmured. "I know but… but all the same, it… it must be so awful for them." When she had been told the news, when Eugene had come to tell her that someone had been lurking outside of Belle and Adam's rented house to try and kill Adam… Cinderella didn't need to imagine what they must be feeling because she had lived it herself. It was… it never got any easier. In fact, each time it happened it got a little harder to remind oneself that most people weren't like that, that she was well beloved, that most people didn't wish her, or her family harm.
Cinderella had always been a resilient woman, at least she thought so, she hoped, she was proud to think so. A single night's sleep could restore much of her, and a new dawn would bring with it new hope. That was how she had survived for so many years in her stepmother's house, and that was how she had survived here through all her trials and tribulations, but that was not to say that it was always easy, or that she felt nothing when she was attacked, threatened.
She felt a great deal. And she never became inured to it, she always felt the same sense of 'why me? What did I do? Why do they hate me so?' even though it had become clear that for most of her enemies there was no reason behind their hatred, no cause. Nothing but a sense of entitlement, a desire for what she had. And for those who had shot at her, there wasn't even that. It was just… Sieur Robert had told her once that they were madmen, and she had even consented so far that they should be treated as madmen rather than as traitors, although she had been a little offended when the idea was first put to her.
But that didn't mean she took it lightly, or in her stride. Cinderella didn't think she'd ever be capable of that. She didn't think that Adam or Belle would be capable of that either.
She was a little surprised that they were still coming. Cinderella wouldn't have blamed them at all if they had decided to stay at home today, to rest and recover; but no such message had been received, and so she and Eugene were waiting here for them, outside the palace, and Cinderella for one was anxious to see them both, and to see how they were.
Eugene squeezed her hand again, and squeezed her waist as well, drawing her in a little closer to him. She felt him kiss her on the top of her head, his lips pressing down her bangs down upon her forehead.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
Cinderella's mouth twitched awkwardly. She looked up, craning her neck a little to see Eugene's face. "I'm not the one who was attacked, or nearly attacked, or had some waiting for me to come out."
"Not this time, I know," Eugene replied. "But ever since I told you the news, you've been… it stirs up memories, doesn't it?"
Cinderella closed her eyes for a moment. In her mind she could hear the gunshot, and could feel Philippe underneath her as she had thrown herself forward to shield him with her body. She could see the man in the crowd, stepping towards her as he drew his pistol. "Yes," she whispered.
Eugene's brow parted, a look of sadness, almost helplessness upon his face. He bent down and kissed her again, this time upon the forehead. "I… I wish I knew what to say," he said.
"I don't think there's anything that you can say," Cinderella admitted, her voice quiet. "But thank you anyway."
"For what?" asked Eugene.
"For wanting to say something," Cinderella said.
Anything else that Eugene might have said or even wanted to say was interrupted by the rattling sound of carriage wheels upon the stony courtyard of the palace, by the clip-clop clattering of horses' hooves as a carriage, pulled by a team of four black horses, was driven rapidly through the gates, going so fast that if Cinderella had been in it she would have asked the coachman to slow down, and she was a little afraid that it wouldn't be able to stop in time and would suffer some sort of an accident. But it seemed the coachman was a better judge of how to handle his coach than Cinderella was, and he reined in the horses such that the carriage came to a hard stop in front of the steps.
The footman – who was the same man as the valet who had greeted Cinderella when she had called upon Adam and Belle yesterday – got down off the footplate and opened the door.
Adam was the first to descend, unfolding his tall, broad-shouldered frame out of the carriage door that was too small for him so that it was only when he had climbed down that he was able to stand at his full height.
"Cinderella, Eugene," he greeted them. "I'm honoured that you came out here to greet us like this." He half turned away from them, not turning his back but presenting his side to them, as he held out one hand to held Belle down from the carriage.
"Adam, Belle, are you both alright?" Cinderella cried. "When I heard the news I… I mean, we were… I'm so sorry. How are you?"
"We're fine, Cinderella," Belle assured her, as she got down from out of the coach far more easily than her husband had. The pearls around her neck gleamed as they caught the sunlight, although they didn't quite gleam as brightly as her smile. "We weren't in any danger, and you have nothing, nothing whatsoever, to apologise for."
"Are you sure?" Cinderella asked, taking a step away from Eugene and taking her hand away from his – his other hand fell away from her waist – as she reached out to Belle and Adam, her white-gloved hands each taking one of their hands in turn. "I mean… do you really…?"
"I think what Cinderella is trying to say is that you're taking this rather well," Eugene said, putting a hand on Cinderella's shoulder, just above the collar of her dress. "And, as our guests here in Armorique, there is some apology owed for any ill-treatment that you suffer here."
"Then thanks are also owed for the prompt response of your General Gerard, no?" Belle replied. "Which means we're even, doesn't it? And as for our taking it well, we didn't see the man until after he'd been caught, we didn't see the gun until after it was out of his hands, we didn't know any of this was happening until there was no danger, so there's really no need to make a great fuss about all of this."
"Make a great fuss?" Cinderella murmured, her grasp on Belle's fingers loosening somewhat even as Eugene's grip upon her shoulder tightened.
Belle's big brown eyes widened a little. "Oh," she whispered. "Oh my, Cinderella, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"It's fine," Cinderella said quickly. "You don't have to-"
"Yes," Belle said quickly, cutting Cinderella off, even as she snatched at Cinderella's fingers before the latter could pull them away, grasping onto them like thorns catching a dress. "Yes, I do. It was not my intention to make light of… we all have our fears, and that I don't share yours doesn't give me leave to dismiss them. Please forgive me."
"There's nothing to-"
"Forgive me," Belle insisted. "Please."
Cinderella managed a slight smile. "Already forgiven," she said quietly.
Belle nodded, though there remained a furrow of her slender brows. "I think your life has been much harder than I ever imagined."
"We shouldn't be talking about me, now," Cinderella replied. "You're the one who-"
"Who heard shouting from inside, and came out to find that…" Belle trailed off. "To be honest, the worst part of all of this is being indebted to those two, and that man in particular. Perhaps that's why I'm making so light of it, because that way I don't have to feel too grateful to them."
"No, Belle, I think you're making light of it because it felt very light to us," Adam assured her.
Belle snorted. "Perhaps. That paints me in a better light, certainly."
"Those two?" Cinderella repeated. "That man?"
"Captain Avenant of the Imperial and Royal Army," Adam growled. "And Amelie Saint Clair, Maria Theresa's huntress. Maria Theresa's loyal hunting dogs, sent her to watch us on behalf of the queen."
"Maria Theresa doesn't trust you?" Eugene asked, surprised.
"I'm not sure Maria Theresa trusts anyone," Adam replied darkly.
"Amelie would certainly have you believe that Maria Theresa trusts her," Belle pointed out. "Though it doesn't mean that you have to believe. Anyway, Eugene, I don't think it really matters whether or not she trusts us because she can offer us what we want, and she trusts our self-interest, even if not ourselves." She paused. "Though not so much that she let us come here unaccompanied."
"That sounds like it was for the best," Cinderella pointed out. "They saved you. If they hadn't been there then-"
"Then things probably would have been a lot more frightening, I know," Belle conceded. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it, or relish thanking them for their assistance. Especially him."
Cinderella thought that there must be more to this than Belle or Adam was saying. She supposed that she could understand it was a little vexing to be watched and observed to make sure that you were doing what you were supposed to be doing, but at the same time it was also be expected. Cinderella felt as though she spent her entire life being watched and judged – by the press, by the public, by the court; even her ladies in waiting watched her, though the best of them didn't judge her while they watched. And yet Belle and Adam seemed more bitter about this than you would expect, and particularly towards the man, Captain Avenant. Had he said or done something to offend them? Whatever it was it must be quite a substantial grievance to still outweigh the fact that he had saved their lives.
Even if the circumstances, the fact that they hadn't seen the danger, meant they didn't comprehend it the way they might have done if they'd been there when the man had produced his pistol.
"What… what has he done?" Cinderella asked tentatively. "If you don't mind me asking, that is?"
"It's not what he's done, it's what he is," Belle answered. "But I'd rather not say any more, if it's all the same to you."
"Of course, you don't have to say anything," Cinderella replied. She took a step back, in the direction of Eugene, finally releasing Adam's hand, and gently removing her own hand from Belle's grasp. "Since you're here," she said, "we should probably go inside. Lord Roux and Lord St Cyr are already waiting."
"Yes, that sounds like a fine idea," Adam said. He offered his arm to Belle, even as Cinderella placed both her hands on Eugene's elbow.
The prince and princess of Armorique turned around, with the Prince of the Franche-Comte and his wife falling in beside them as they began to climb the steps up to the door. The two ladies were in the middle, with the two gentlemen upon either side, flanking them like sentinels – or like the guards who lined the hallway just beyond the doors.
"I don't suppose you know anything about the fellow who… the man outside?" Eugene asked, phrasing it very delicately.
"He's an Aquitainian, or claims to be," Adam replied. "Or so your General Gerard told us. So far that's all we know."
"An Aquitainian?" Cinderella gasped. "Not one of the refugees?"
Neither Belle nor Adam could immediately reply, as they had reached the doorway and a point at which there wasn't enough space for four people to walk side by side; there was barely enough space for two people to walk side by side, so Eugene took a slight lead, followed by Cinderella, then Belle behind her and Adam bringing up the rear.
Under the eyes of the stalwart, silent, unmoving guards, Eugene looked back towards Cinderella. "Aren't most of the refugees women and children?"
"Yes," Cinderella said. "Yes, they are."
"The man outside our door was, well, a young man," Belle said. "So probably not a refugee."
"Etienne will get to the bottom of it all," Eugene assured them. "You may rely on him."
"He's already posted guards outside our house," Adam said.
"Do you want any guards to escort your carriage back?" asked Eugene.
"Thank you, that would be very generous," Adam said.
Cinderella's brow furrowed. An Aquitainian. Not a refugee, they said, and their reasons for saying so made sense, but then if he wasn't one of the refugees then who was he? Where had he come from? And what would this mean for the other Aquitainians, the refugees, once this got out? Would it lead to more hostility towards them, or would people not care because it was only a foreign prince who had been the target.
But people were hardly willing to be more likely to support the idea of a right to work for the refugees after this than they had been before.
I suppose one blessing of Adam and Belle having taken this so much in stride is that I don't feel very guilty thinking about things like this.
"It's because you're a prince of the Empire, I suppose," Eugene observed.
"So it would seem," Adam said.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Eugene replied, as they emerged out of the hallway and were able to stand level with one another once again. "I only hope that it isn't some sort of conspiracy, just one man."
"That's our hope too," Belle said. "Or we may have cause to react more as Cinderella expected us to."
"I hope not," Cinderella murmured. "I very much hope not."
"Me too, obviously," Belle agreed. "But as Eugene says, it's all in the hands of General Gerard now, and you seem to trust him-"
"With my life," Eugene added.
"So I'll trust him as well, and hope he learns something soon," Belle went on. "In the meantime, let's talk about something else, something happier." She smiled. "You're looking very nice today, Cinderella."
"She always does," Eugene observed.
"He's learned the right things to say, I see," Belle said, with a chuckle in her voice.
Cinderella smiled. "You're very kind, both of you." Her dress for today did not have a great deal in the way of frills or decoration about it, for the most part it was nothing more than a white dress, with only a blue sash around the waist and a blue peplum swooping down to cover her hips to give it any colour or variety, even the collar was white, and off the shoulder, with a pearl-like button sitting in the centre of the neckline. There were no sleeves, leaving her arms bare down to the gloves on her hands, although on each arm she wore a pearl bracelet and a sapphire one, to complement the pearl and sapphire earrings that dangled from her ears, occasionally concealed by the movement of her hair. Around her neck she wore her wedding necklace, the two strands of pearls, one tight around her throat the other dangling down slightly upon her breast, with the royal blue sapphire heart in the centre of the lower strand.
Cinderella regarded Belle's own dress, which might have been just a little more complicated than Cinderella's upon this occasion, with the sash and the sleeves and the shoulders, but which nevertheless – perhaps something to do with the near absence of jewellery – contrived to look simpler than Cinderella's outfit and, in its simplicity, to make Cinderella look as though she were trying desperately to compete by any means with someone who was so far her superior as to make the difference between them absolutely insurmountable.
"You look very beautiful as well, Belle," Cinderella added.
"She always does," Adam said, with a slight chuckle and a smile over the heads of the ladies towards Eugene.
Belle shook her head a little. "Thank you, both," she said, with a glance at Adam before she returned her attention to Cinderella. "I thought that you would make an effort so I thought that I should probably do the same." Her eyes darted downwards towards Cinderella's necklace. "That's some very nice jewellery, by the way. That necklace is gorgeous."
"Indeed, it's stunning," Adam added, leaning forwards a little.
One of Cinderella's hands went from Eugenes's arm to just over her heart – just over her actual heart, and her fingertips brushing against the sapphire heart that she wore around her neck. "It's lovely, isn't it? It's my most beloved necklace, my absolute favourite."
"Is it a sapphire or a blue diamond?" asked Adam.
"It's a sapphire," Belle answered, before Cinderella or Eugene could. "Blue diamonds don't come in that blue of a colour, they're all more of a greyish sort of blue, whereas sapphires come in brighter blues like that. If blue diamonds didn't have a much greater fire then I think they'd be outshone."
"You're a connoisseur?" Eugene asked.
"No," Belle said lightly. "But when you'll devour any book within reach, and there aren't that many books within reach, you pick up all kinds of knowledge."
"You're quite right," Cinderella said. "That's why I prefer sapphires; I have a few blue diamonds, but they don't have the same shade of blue that sapphires have."
"The shade that matches your eyes?" Belle guessed.
"Precisely," Cinderella admitted. "Mind you, even if this necklace was a different shade of blue I'd still love it. It was the first necklace, the first piece of jewellery that Eugene ever gave me, and the necklace that I wore at our wedding."
Belle smiled. "These pearls were a Christmas present," she said, gesturing at the string of pearls around her own neck. "Our first Christmas together after our wedding, so they'll always mean something to me, even if I had much fancier jewellery by far to wear instead."
"As it should," said Cinderella.
All the while they had been speaking, Eugene and Cinderella had been tacitly guiding Belle and Adam through the corridors of the palace, with Adam and Belle simply following where Cinderella and Eugene – or walking at their side – without demur. Cinderella still didn't know every corridor in this vast palace that she called her home, but she knew where they were going now well enough and could have guided Belle and Adam there even without Eugene's presence. The two of them brought their guests to a parlour room, with two guards upon the doors outside and, within, a decent-sized round table, comfortable chairs with yellow velvet covering the cushions, and large gallic windows admitting a great deal of sunlight and offering a splendid view of the gardens beyond, down to the ornamental river that cut through the grounds.
As Cinderella had said, Lord Roux and Lord St Cyr were already waiting for them inside, and they both got to their feet as the four of them – Eugene and Cinderella first, then Adam and Belle – entered the room.
"Your highnesses," Lord Roux said, bowing his head slightly. "Your highness Prince Adam." He paused, then inclined his head towards Belle. "Madame."
"My lords," Adam said, without bowing.
"My lords," Belle murmured, curtsying.
"Please, sit down everyone," Cinderella said, as she glided across the room towards the table. She turned, her skirt and petticoats rustling as they swished around her, to the maid, Dominique, who stood by the door. "Could we have some tea please, Dominque? And some cake and sandwiches."
Dominique curtsied. "Right away, ma'am."
"Thank you," Cinderella said, smiling as Dominique left the room silently, closing the door behind her with almost as much quiet as her unheard footsteps.
Cinderella waited for the door to close before she sat down, the last to take or resume her seat save for Eugene, who was holding her chair for her.
"Thank you," Cinderella said softly, as she took her seat. She rested her gloved hands in her lap as Eugene pushed her chair in for her, then sat down beside her.
A sheaf of paper sat on the table in front of Cinderella, as more paper sat in front of everyone. At present they were all blank, although a pen and ink sat not far away if she wished to change that.
"Good morning, everyone," she said, looking around the table. From her perspective Belle and Adam were sitting on one side of her, Lord Roux and Lord St Cyr on the other. "I hope that we can make good progress today on…" she paused, choosing her words, "on making the Holy Roman Empire feel that it can trust us to be fair with them in peace talks between them and Aquitainian to bring this awful war to an end."
"Prince Adam isn't here to negotiate with us," Eugene added. "But you are the umpire here, in a sense, we need to convince you that we're evenhanded and impartial."
"Not convince me," Adam said. "You – we – need to find some way of proving, of convincing, my Imperial mistress, Queen Maria Theresa, that you have convinced. I don't think that she'll just take my word for it."
"No, that would be too easy, wouldn't it," Eugene observed wryly.
"Prince Adam," Lord Roux said. "Her Highness reported to the privy council yesterday that she believed that Queen Maria Theresa would not accept anything less than the acknowledgement of Princess Mary of Burgundy's right to the Burgundian throne as the starting point for negotiations. For clarity, is that so?"
"I don't have a letter in my pocket to confirm it," Adam admitted. "But I don't think Maria Theresa would come to the table for the possibility of putting Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine upon the Burgundian throne. She would rather fight on – especially as she's currently winning."
"That fact may be a bigger obstacle to the idea of a negotiated peace than anything we can say or do here," Lord St Cyr opined.
"If the Holy Roman Empire wasn't winning then Aquitaine would be winning, and it would be them who had less incentive to negotiate," Eugene said. "When two countries fight one of them will almost always be winning at any given point. But the fortunes of war can change very rapidly; the rebels in America were winning before my army arrived, picking off our garrisons and loyalist towns one by one, but once our main field force arrived the situation turned in our favour. If Eleanor and Maria Theresa are wise they will understand that, but if not…" he looked at Adam. "I should tell you now, Prince Adam, that we have begun reaching out to friends across Europe to form a coalition of states who are not presently committed to this war but who favour the resumption of peace."
The temperature in the room seemed to become a little chillier. Cinderella almost shivered.
Adam was silent for a moment, before he said, speaking slowly, "And these countries… what will you all do if Maria Theresa continues to prefer to risk her fortunes at war?"
Eugene's jaw worked, shifting from one side to the other as if he were trying to chew on a toffee. He glanced at Cinderella, before meeting Adam's gaze.
"Armorique cannot, will not, allow the Holy Roman Empire to destroy Aquitaine," he said. "Or to dominate Gallia, and Europe with it."
Cinderella's eyes widened. War. He was talking about war. That was the only thing that he could mean, that if the Holy Roman Empire did not agree to come to peace table and discuss the end of the war then Armorique – and all the friends they hoped to gather, Normandie and all the rest – would go to war on the side of Aquitaine.
He didn't say anything about this to me. It might be petty, it might be the least of things all told, but Cinderella couldn't help but feel hurt by this; maybe if it had been the first time that Eugene had kept something from her then she would have borne it with more equanimity, but unfortunately it was not. Eugene had… not a habit of keeping secrets from her, but he had done it before; she had had to find out about Philippe from Angelique, who had discovered his existence while chasing an untrue rumour.
The problem, the thing that made Cinderella feel pained, was not that Eugene was always lying to her or keeping secrets from her, but rather that when he did so they seemed to be very big secrets: first the existence of a son, and the revelation that Cinderella was not his first love or perhaps not even his great love; and now this fact that Armorique was prepared to go to war against the Holy Roman Empire if necessary, to prevent them from winning too great a victory in their war against Aquitaine.
It hurt that he hadn't told her, that he hadn't trusted her with this fact. Of course, he wasn't the only one who hadn't trusted her – His Majesty, at least, must have known also, and Lord Roux as well if not Lord St Cyr – but she wasn't married to His Majesty, or to Lord Roux and certainly not to Lord St Cyr, she was married to Eugene, and so it was Eugene's omission in not telling her anything about this that was a dart into Cinderella's heart, that brought a pang of pain.
She didn't express it, of course; not now, it wasn't the time or the place. Later, when this meeting was over, then she would talk to Eugene and… and tell him that she was a little disappointed, and see if he had an explanation for why he had behaved this way.
In the meantime, Cinderella sought to conceal her feelings behind an expression of calm, even as hurt and disappointment at Eugene was not the only emotion she was feeling at present. She also couldn't help but wonder if she ought to have guessed it without Eugene needing to tell her, after all if Normandie and Albion and Naples and others joined together to demand that the Holy Roman Empire talk peace and the Empire refused, what else were they going to do but make war? Perhaps Eugene hadn't told her because he thought that she would be clever enough to work it out for herself.
No. No, there are other things that could be done, like cutting off trade with the Empire, or giving money or weapons to Aquitaine, things that Armorique could do without going to war.
That is a choice, not an inevitability.
It was a choice that Lord St Cyr, seemed to desire more than a peace conference, judging by the smile that was creeping in at the corners of his mouth. Cinderella remembered his attitude at yesterday's meeting of the Privy Council: he, at least, would relish a fight to restrain the Empire's ambitions.
Cinderella did not relish the prospect. In fact, even more – far more – than she was hurt by Eugene's secrecy in this she was afraid for him. Waving him off to war once had been bad enough, to do it a second time, and to a much larger, grander war besides? The newspapers reporting on the war spoke of armies of tens of thousands of men, and casualties in the thousands. If Armorique joined this war would it not strip the fields and towns of all their men? Take Jean off to the fighting, take Augustina's father and brothers, take General Gerard, take Julia's uncle, take Eugene?
The thought was terrifying. To be left alone with the children, praying and worrying and wondering when Eugene would return, and if he did not return… just the thought was enough to crack Cinderella's attempt at an inscrutable expression, the prospect of Eugene going off to war against the Empire and never coming home, leaving her to raise their children without a father, nevermore to hold her or kiss her or dance with her, nevermore to hold Isabelle or Annabelle in his arms, never to know them as they grew up, nor they to know him… the very idea, unmoored from all reality, was enough to bring tears to the corners of Cinderella's eyes.
She blinked rapidly, and looked down at the table and very much hoped that nobody noticed.
She wanted peace. Cinderella had told Belle that they wanted to help His Majesty leave a great legacy behind him, and she did want that, but she also wanted peace for its own sake, for the sake of her children, for the sake of her husband – for the sake of herself.
She wanted peace so that her family, and families across Armorique, would not be torn apart by war, perhaps forever.
She wanted peace because peace was life, and safety, and happiness.
What is Aquitaine to me, that I should send my husband and the father of my children off to war for it?
Let the Holy Roman Empire have Aquitaine, and Burgundy, let them have all of Gallia save only Armorique, and leave my family alone.
Selfish thoughts, perhaps; thoughts unworthy of a princess, probably; but her thoughts nonetheless, her secret thoughts, her private thoughts, the thoughts that dwelt within her heart.
And so she hoped, she very much hoped, she devoutly prayed, that in spite of Eugene's announcement of Armorique's willingness to go to war, they could still achieve peace between these warring nations.
The whole room waited for a response from Adam to Eugene's announcement, and Cinderella wondered if he and Belle had been taken by surprise as much as she had.
There were tears in Cinderella's eyes.
She was trying to hide them, but Belle could spot them.
At first it confused her, why was she crying, what had brought these tears to those beautiful blue eyes? But the answer came to her quickly: she was crying at the thought of Armorique going to war, at the thought of Eugene going to war, at the thought of Armorique becoming embroiled in the struggle that was dominating Europe.
So Eugene didn't tell her about this.
And neither did anyone else, it seems.
Nobody told her, especially not her husband.
Belle couldn't help but begin to wonder if the royal marriage of Armorique was as strong as it seemed. Adam would never keep such a thing from her.
But Eugene had kept it from Cinderella, although… perhaps she ought to have seen this coming? What had she thought that they would do, if the Holy Roman Empire refused to come to the negotiating table?
No. No, that's not fair, there was no way of knowing for certain that Armorique would be willing to take this step. They might have shrunk from the prospect, or found other ways of putting pressure on the Empire, or they might have shrugged at the failure of their vanity project and waited for the war to end with complete indifference.
They still might, this might all be a bluff.
Cinderella seems to be taking it seriously.
But that might be because she's surprised. That doesn't mean it's necessarily serious.
But Belle thought, on balance, it probably was serious. Again, that didn't mean it was, but it would strange for Eugene to bring it up if it wasn't serious; why bluff now, when they'd only just begun to work; it would make more sense to save it as leverage in case things got bogged down, this felt like he was trying to be honest with them. And it made sense. Armorique was not some far away land, meddling in the affairs of peoples distant from it. This war was on their border, and if the Holy Roman Empire won a great victory and absorbed whole chunks of Aquitaine, besides Burgundy, then it would be on Armorique's doorstep, and dominant in a way that it wasn't now.
It made sense that Armorique would, at the last resort, fight to keep it that way.
And it also made sense, the power of the Empire being what it was, that they would seek to assemble allies to stand with them in that endeavour.
Nevertheless, the fact that all of this made sense didn't mean that it was good for them; it was a matter of indifference to Belle whether or not the Holy Roman Empire won the war or not, in fact if she was being perfectly – and in the privacy of her own head why shouldn't she be honest – she might prefer for Maria Theresa to lose the war, pompous bully that she was, but this information didn't bode well for the success of their mission.
A threat was not the sort of thing likely to reassure Maria Theresa of the impartiality of Armorique, especially when it was a threat predicated on Armorique's inability to accept an Imperial triumph.
"I must confess, Prince Eugene, I'm a little disappointed," Adam murmured. "After so cordial a reception last night I'd hoped for a little better than for you to seek to drag us to the table with threats."
"It's not a threat," Eugene said quickly. "I don't want war, nobody here in Armorique wants war-"
Belle couldn't help but glance at the wolfish foreign minister, Lord St Cyr, and wonder if that was quite true.
"But I also don't want to keep things from you," Eugene went on, to which Belle could only recall that he had no such difficulties keeping things from his wife. "I want you to have all the facts. Maria Theresa may be less likely to snap her fingers at the idea of this congress if she understands the price of her refusal."
"As someone who spent time in the Empire I thought you would understand her better than that," Adam replied. "Maria Theresa will never allow herself to be bullied into seeking peace. The Habsburg pride will not allow it."
Belle thought it would be rich for Maria Theresa, who was, once you stripped away her pretensions and her vanities, the quintessential bully, picking on others to cover up her fears and her cowardice, to complain about being bullied by other nations; but just because it would be rich didn't mean that she wouldn't do it. And she thought that Adam might be unfortunately right about the Habsburg pride.
"She would rather fight half of Europe, Prince Adam?" Lord St Cyr asked.
"I think that, if it came to the choice, then she would draw the sword of honour against all of Europe, my lord," Adam said, a touch of a sigh in his voice.
Eugene scowled. "Unfortunately I can hear that in her voice."
"I understand that you're showing us the stick in order to make the carrot looking more appealing," Belle said, leaning forwards at the table. "And I… suppose that we should appreciate your honesty. We do appreciate your honesty, you could have waited to spring this on us when talks became deadlocked. But it strikes me that if this… if this becomes public then it gives the Aquitainians no reason whatsoever to come to talks. All they have to do is hold out and eventually a great coalition will join the war on their side. Whereas if they agree to attend this congress then they may get less than they want. A lot less, if Maria Theresa's terms are agreed to." She paused. "Or will you go to war with Aquitaine if they prove recalcitrant?"
"We have no desire to see Aquitaine dominate Gallia any more than the Empire dominate Europe," Lord Roux declared.
Lord St Cyr gave a soft snort, which Lord Roux ignored.
"It would not serve," Lord Roux went on, "our interests to see one queen of Aquitaine and Burgundy; they would be so large that even Armorique, Normandie and Flanders all united would not be their equal, and Flanders is an Aquitainian ally. And if the Empire loses its war, the Franche-Comte might not be safe from them either."
"All true, my lord," Belle said softly. "But not an answer to my question. What will you do, if the Aquitainians refuse to come to the table? Will you make war on them?"
"No," Lord Roux said. "But we have other ways of bringing pressure to bear, if the Empire is amenable but Aquitaine is not: they are dependent on importing weapons and materiel of war, which could be stopped, and they have borrowed great sums of money from the banks of Albion and here in Armorique, which could be leveraged."
"That might work," Belle said. "But still, you can see how it looks."
"So," Cinderella said, for the first time since Eugene had made Armorique's intentions clear. "What do you suggest, Belle? Is there any way forward?"
"I," Belle began, "would hide the stick away for a while, and concentrate on the carrot. We came here – you invited us – because we hoped that we could find some way to make the idea of a negotiated peace palatable for Queen Maria Theresa. We should get back to that, and not talk too much about threats, or coalitions or anything of that nature."
"I wouldn't mind that," Cinderella said quietly.
Eugene nodded. "Agreed. We will concentrate upon… finding some way of reassuring the Empire that… we aren't prepared to see the Empire or Aquitaine dominate Gallia, but beyond that, or because of that, we have no interest in playing favourites here, if there is a congress held then Armorique will be fair and impartial."
Fair and impartial in pursuit of its own interests, Belle thought. She wondered if Eugene was really blind to the contradiction between his declaration that they would be fair and his statement that they wouldn't allow either side to gain too great an advantage. It seemed to omit the possibility that a fair judgement might rule that one side or the other deserved such an advantage.
Probably he was unaware, he had convinced himself that both his statements could be and where true.
And besides, Belle wasn't sure that either side in this war deserved an advantage either. Maria Theresa had probably ordered two murders and a kidnapping in order to expand her control, but Eleanor had used those deaths as an excuse to advance her own position – nobody had forced her to make a play for the Burgundian throne, and she could have proposed another candidate if she'd wished – and both were willing to let men by die by the thousands so that they could have another crown to look at admiringly. Neither queen, in Belle's mind, had any claim to the moral high ground.
Perhaps Eugene simply felt the same way.
"That seems a worthy suggestion, indeed, your highness," Lord Roux said. He coughed into his hands. "To return, then, to the beginning of our conversation, Her Highness reported yesterday her belief that-"
"That Queen Maria Theresa would not accept anything but Princess Mary's claim to the Burgundian throne as the starting point of negotiations," Adam said. "Yes."
"Yes as in she was right?" Eugene asked.
"I don't know Maria Theresa's exact mind, but I believe so," Adam answered. "I understood that you were not unsympathetic to that position."
"We are sympathetic to it," Cinderella said, her voice becoming just a little louder after its earlier whisper. "We would be terrible hypocrites otherwise."
Lord Roux said, "Our support for the hereditary principle-"
"Why don't we start there," Belle suggested. "With your support for the hereditary principle? It sounds impressively reassuring, while at the same time being vague enough that it doesn't commit you to anything."
"What do you have in mind, Belle?" Cinderella asked. "Are you going to write to Queen Maria Theresa and tell her that we support the hereditary principle? Or were you thinking of something more public? Something in the newspapers? An open letter, perhaps?"
"In the newspapers?" Belle repeated, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice. They didn't have much in the way of a press in the Franche-Comte, and in the Empire those newspapers that existed were both censored and largely disdained by the great lords and princes as the consumption of the lower orders. That a princess would seek to use the popular press to get her point across was… unusual to her.
This isn't the first thing about Cinderella that I've found unusual, I should be getting used to it by now.
"I'm not sure that Maria Theresa reads the newspapers," Belle said.
"I see," Cinderella murmured. "But it might not be the worst thing if the people – here, or elsewhere – know what we're thinking. If they know that we are offering a fair chance to settle this war…"
She didn't finish her sentence; Belle wondered if that was because she wasn't entirely comfortable with the conclusion or she hadn't gotten there yet. She seemed to be implying some sort of popular pressure upon Maria Theresa – and Eleanor of Aquitaine too, perhaps - to come to terms, but what form that pressure would take… Belle found her own thoughts trailing off at that point too. The Holy Roman Empire, after all, allowed for few expressions of the popular will; far less, as Belle understood, than Armorique did. She wondered if Cinderella was aware of that, or if the Empire's governance was somewhat opaque to her and she was relying upon her own experience of her own country.
"It certainly couldn't hurt," Eugene agreed.
"But to reach Maria Theresa something else may be called for," said Adam. "A statement, yes, but in a less…"
"A less popular medium?" suggested Belle.
"Yes, exactly, a less popular medium," Adam agreed.
"A private letter from you, an open letter and a diplomatic statement from ourselves?" Lord Roux said.
"That would serve, I think," Adam agreed.
"Stating that we support the hereditary principle," Lord St Cyr muttered. "That will be a short letter."
"There will be more, of course," Lord Roux said sharply. "One presumes," he added.
"Yes," Adam agreed. "Yes, I think so." He glanced at Belle.
"You express your support for the hereditary principle," Belle muttered, tapping her fingers upon the table. "And… or should that be but?"
The door opened, and the maid from before – Cinderella had said her name but Belle didn't remember what it was – came in, accompanied by another maid and a footman. Between them they held a pot of tea, saucers, plates and so on and so forth and an ornate metal tray of two layers, laden with sandwiches on one layer and delicate but rather mouth-watering iced cakes on the other.
"Thank you, Dominique," Cinderella said, as the servants laid down their burdens in the centre of the table.
"Ma'am," the maid said, curtsying as she and her fellow servants retreated out of the room.
Cinderella stood up, and picked up the pot of tea as she began to pour. "We express our support for the hereditary principle," she said, as the steaming brown liquid began to fill up the first of the bone china cups with gold trim around the lip. "And send our condolences to Princess Mary on the deaths of her parents." She frowned slightly. "That poor girl, to lose both her mother and her father at the same time, and so young. It's awful, it's simply awful what she must be going through." She finished pouring the first cup. "Any milk or sugar, Belle?"
"Um, milk but no sugar, thank you," Belle replied.
Cinderella nodded, as she put down the teapot and picked up the milk jug, pouring a little milk into Belle's cup before gently nudging cup and saucer across the table in Belle's direction. Adam took the cup and pulled it the rest of the way over to Belle.
"Thank you, Cinderella," Belle said, as she picked up the cup and raised it to her lips. It had just the right amount of milk to counteract the bitterness, but it was still a little too hot to drink much of.
Cinderella picked up the teapot once again, and began to pour a second cup of tea. "It might be good if she could come home," she said softly.
"That might be less than reassuring to the Empire," Belle muttered.
Cinderella's brow furrowed. "Yes. I suppose I can see what you mean."
"What else then?" asked Eugene.
They discussed the matter for some time, but apart from consuming some very nice tea, cakes and sandwiches, they made very little additional progress. It came down to the question of what Maria Theresa wanted, and what would satisfy her. And on that, aside from the obvious point of Queen Mary of Burgundy, betrothed to King Maximillian of Bavaria, Belle and Adam simply didn't know.
As the discussion wound down, without having gotten far beyond the hereditary principle and sympathy for Princess Mary, Belle was forced to confront the uncomfortable fact that they might be forced to ask Amelie Saint-Claire what she thought.