Under the Starry Sky

The sunlight fell through the trees in dappled patches, landing in spots here and there on Cinderella's face, her arms, her hair, her dress and jewels. And yet she barely noticed it. She was hardly aware of the late afternoon sunshine as it spread across the garden, she was hardly aware of the time passing by; she was barely aware at all of the tree in the garden under which she sat, of its trunk behind her, of its roots beneath her.

Her thoughts were elsewhere, far away from this palace and its beautiful gardens, on Armorique's border or beyond where Eugene might be forced to go and fight and risk his life upon the battlefield unless... unless it could be prevented. Unless the proud queens of Bavaria and Aquitaine consented to settle their dispute in Armorique.

If they did not... until today Cinderella had thought that the worst if they did not would be that the dispute would carry on bloodily between the unhappy combatants, but now she knew better. Now she knew that Armorique would feel itself obliged to intervene in that dispute, to commit itself perhaps to join the bloodshed, to cast its Prince and many thousands of gallant soldiers into the way of harm; to cast many thousands of husbands, sweethearts, brothers, sons-

"Mother, you were supposed to come and find me!"

The words were accompanied by the sharp grasp of a small hand on one of Cinderella's arms.

Cinderella started, and looked down into Philippe's face. He was standing on Cinderella's skirt as it pooled out around her, and had his hand in her arm between her pearl and sapphire bracelets. He was looking up at her, a mixture of curiosity and a degree of impatience mingled in his expression.

"Philippe!" Cinderella gasped. "I-"

"I hid," he pointed out, "but you didn't seek."

Cinderella sighed, because he was quite right, of course. They had been playing hide and seek, or they had been supposed to play hide and seek, but when Cinderella had sat down to count to twenty her thoughts had just flown right away. Goodness only knew how long Philippe had been waiting for her to find him before he had decided to go looking for her instead.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Philippe," Cinderella said, reaching down and picking Philippe up in her arms before she set him down upon her lap. "I was just... I suppose I have a lot on my mind, and I just lost track of everything. But that's really no excuse at all, this is our time together and I shouldn't have let anything distract me. I'm very sorry." She smiled tentatively. "Can you forgive me?"

Philippe nodded. "I forgive you, Mother." He grinned. "Just this once."

Cinderella laughed as she bent her head to kiss him on the forehead. "Alright, my sweet boy, I'll be certain not to do it again, since I won't be forgiven a second time."

"What were you thinking about?" Philippe asked.

I was thinking about how your father might have to go to war again,Cinderella, but she didn't she really want to bother Philippe with that information. The fact that he was only five years old meant that she saw no hypocrisy in it: keeping secrets from a little boy so as not to frightened him was completely different to keeping secrets from your wife. What would Philippe do, if he knew the truth, except be afraid for his father?

"Oh, it's nothing, really," Cinderella said, "very grown up things, very boring. Would you still like to play hide and seek? I promise I'll look for you this time."

Philippe thought for a few moments, and then a few moments longer , before he shook his head. "I'd like to stay here," he said, as he wriggled closer to Cinderella.

"Really?" Cinderella asked. "Alright then. Would you like me to tell you a story?"

Philippe shook his head again. "Would you sing to me, Mother?"

Cinderella smiled. "Really? What would you like me to sing?"

"I don't mind," Philippe said, leaning against her a little bit, his shoulder upon her breast, some of her hair falling on top of his head. "Just sing me something."

Cinderella giggled a little. "Very well, as you wish." She straightened her back just a little, though she tried not to disturb Philippe as she did so. She raised her head, but looked down at him, even as he looked up at her with a soft smile upon his round face.

Cinderella began to sing. It was a soothing song, for in Cinderella's opinion it was the kind of song for which her voice, soft and breathy and slightly whispery, was best suited. Sort songs for a soft voice, sweet songs, songs that soothed and balmed the spirit.

Songs that, judging by the way Philippe's eyelids began to droop, could put you to sleep.

"Am I boring you?" Cinderella asked, a little amusement in her voice. "Should I sing something else, or-"

"No," Philippe said. "No, don't stop, it's really nice, I just..." He leaned against her even more, and another yawn escaped him.

"Well, if you think you might fall asleep, then take off your shoes," Cinderella said. "Otherwise you'll be uncomfortable."

"Yes, Mother," Philippe said, and did as he was told. He turned around on her lap, for whatever reason, taking off his shoes and dropping them down off Cinderella's lap onto her skirt as it spread out all around them both.

As Philippe leaned against her again, Cinderella started to sing once more. She sang softly, and soothingly, and she only sang even more softly as Philippe began to fall asleep.

Cinderella leaned backwards, pressing her back against the tree and then using it to push herself forwards, so that her back lay at something of an angle to the stout trunk. She let Philippe slide forwards too, so that he was on her knees as much as her lap, and his head was resting on her breasts which served him as a pillow.

Philippe murmured something so quiet and indistinct that Cinderella couldn't make it out, and one small hand grabbed at her bodice, clutching a handful of sparkling silk in his fist.

Cinderella stopped singing. She smiled down at him, one hand holding him so that he didn't fall off, and with her other hand she ran her fingertips – gently, so as not to disturb him - through his hair.

"Sweet dreams, my little angel," she whispered.

The light was changing, the late afternoon sunshine giving way to the setting sun of early evening. On one side of her the sun still shone, falling directly upon them both from the west, dappling upon Cinderella's dress through the gaps in the trees; but the other half of her was already in darkness.

It seemed quite lucky now that that was the direction in which Philippe had turned, his back to the sun.

If Cinderella - if both of them - stayed out here much longer than someone would come and look for them, either the servants or her ladies or perhaps even Eugene himself. But Cinderella was in no hurry to disturb Philippe. Thru could stay here a little longer. And even if someone did come and find them what would they discover? The two of them perfectly fine, and nothing to be concerned about.

It was Eugene who came looking for her, in the end - or after however long; Cinderella wasn't sure how long it was, although it had grown dark to all intents and purposes. Eugene emerged into the garden, through the open Gallic windows through which Cinderella and Philippe had come a little earlier, with a lantern in his hand and both Jean and Lieutenant L'Escroc at his heels.

"Cinderella?" he called out. "Cinderella!"

"I'm over here!" Cinderella hissed, waving to them with one hand. A little of the fast-fading light caught the sapphires at her wrist. "But hush!"

Eugene and the others hastened in her direction; Eugene's strides in particular were so swift that he fast outpaced the others and reached Cinderella well before they did.

He stood over her and the sleeping Philippe, looking down on them both as Cinderella used her hand to shield Philippe's face from the lantern light, lest it wake him.

Eugene looked down on them both, and for a moment a look of such deep sadness appeared in his brown eyes that Cinderella thought the pools might swallow her and Philippe and the whole palace beside.

But then they were gone, their wells dried up, replaced with a fond, almost amused smile as he regarded them.

He held up his free hand, the one not holding the lantern, as Jean and Lieutenant L'Escroc caught up with him.

"It's alright, you can go, both of you," he said. "I will keep watch over the princess... and my son."

Her two soldiers bowed, and made their swift exit, leaving Eugene alone, his light shining down and his gaze falling down in equal measure.

"I don't want to wake him," Cinderella explained in a voice that was barely more than a whisper.

Eugene didn't reply. He knelt down beside her, putting the lantern on the ground, one hand reaching out, either for Cinderella or Philippe she couldn't tell, but either way drawing back before he touched either of them.

His smile faltered. When he spoke his voice was hoarse, his throat clogged up with feeling. "When... when Katharine told me that she was with child I... I begged her to marry me. For what must have been the third time I asked her, I implored her. If we marry straight away then the dates will just about allow us to avoid any embarrassment, and... and think of our child. If you marry me then they'll be born the heir to the throne of Armorique. They'll have everything that they could ever wish for. Maybe they will, Katharine replied, but I'll be hated and pilloried, and that's nothing that I want."

He fell silent.

Cinderella waited a few moments, to see if he would say more, before she said, "You never talk about her."

Eugene snorted softly. "I mean... what wife wants to hear her husband maunder about a woman who... whom he knew before?"

And yet you're talking about her now."I... I'm sorry that she can't be here to-"

"No," Eugene said at once, cutting her off. "That's not... that isn't why I..." He closed his eyes for a moment. "When she was carrying Philippe I was worried about what sort of life he or she would have without a father in their home, without me able to see them very often, not able to... and then Philippe was born and Katharine died and I turned my back on him for years. The point... the point I'm trying to get to, what I'm trying to say is..." Once more he reached out, and this time he managed to reach our all the way, first striking Philippe's forehead, hands brushing through his soft brown bangs, then gently stroking Cinderella's cheek in turn. "I'm glad he has a mother whose arms he can sleep in."

Cinderella's chest heaved so much she feared she might disturb Philippe. A sigh fell from her lips, and she found herself blinking rapidly as she felt her eyes grow moist.

"Eugene," she whispered.

Eugene smiled, and with the sand hand that stroked her cheeks he wiped away the tears beneath her eyes.

"You don't need to..." He trailed off. "Don't regret that you're here and she isn't; what happened to Katharine is nothing to do with you, and… and even if… if she… if I could… I would choose you, every time." He chuckled. "But I have to ask, how long are you planning to stay out here?"

"I... I don't know," Cinderella admitted, a quiet, gentle laugh in her voice. "Until Philippe wakes up?"

"Well, if we're going to be sleeping under the stars then you should try to be as comfortable as he is," Eugene said. He stood up, and started to unbutton his blue jacket. "Can you move away from that tree, or at least turn around, without disturbing him?"

"I... I think so, I could try," Cinderella said. "But why?"

"I'm thinking that you should lie down, obviously," Eugene said. "Instead of... whatever you're doing at the moment." He took off his jacket, and folded it over itself into a square bundle. "And here, my darling, is a pillow for your head." He paused. "No, wait, just... I'll be back in just a moment."

He turned away and moved swiftly, almost running back the way that he'd come. He left the lantern beside him, it's light casting a shadow of Cinderella and the sleeping Philippe across the lawn.

While he was gone, Cinderella began to move herself. She didn't stand up, she shuffled and slid across the ground - she felt a little uncomfortable at the thought of the grass stains Duchamp would have to wash out of her dress - keeping a careful distance between the lantern and herself, until she was away from the tree and could, if she'd wished, have lain down with her head on the grass and Philippe lying on top of her.

She didn't lie back, she was still sitting up when Eugene returned; underneath his arm was tucked a cushion which, unless Cinderella was much mistaken, he had just gotten from the sitting room.

"Your pillow," he declared, waving the red cushion back and forth in one hand. "It occurred to me that the jacket would make a far better blanket."

Cinderella covered her mouth with her free hand as she giggled, luckily she didn't wake Philippe, he shifted a little but didn't stir.

"I think you're enjoying this," Cinderella said.

"Well, you know," Eugene said. "It's almost like riverside camping out, isn't it? Isn't that something ordinary families do now: take a boat down the Penfeld, or the Vilaine, and camp along the riverbank?"

"Families with means," Cinderella said. "But I'm not sure how ordinary they are."

"More ordinary than us, I'm sure," Eugene said, as he put the pillow down on the ground behind her.

Cinderella began to lean back. "When I was a little girl-" a frown disfigured her features, even as her head touched the pillow cushion beneath her. "But what about you?"

"What about me?" Eugene asked, as he draped his jacket over his wife and son, covering Philippe up below his head, and covering Cinderella's body too, and one of her arms, the one which was wrapped around Philippe.

"Where's your pillow?" Cinderella asked, and your blanket?"

"Oh, I, as a hardened soldier, have no need such frivolities," Eugene declared breezily, as he lay down on his side next to her. "Why, during the war in Louisiana, I made do with a mere two servants."

Cinderella couldn't stop a snorting giggle from escaping her mouth. "Really?"

"Yes, and one of them was for my horse," Eugene said. "But you were saying? When you were a little girl?"

"Oh, well, I was just going to admit that I do know a little bit about what you're talking about," Cinderella said softly. "When I was a little girl my mother was ill, and my father thought that the country air might do her good, away from the city. So he bought a little boat, that we found waiting for us at the mouth of the Vilaine - we arrived there by sea - and we sailed it up the river all the way to Rennes."

Eugene smiled. "How was it?"

Cinderella sighed. "Mother and I both got seasick on the way to the river mouth, so it didn't get off to a very good start, but once we actually got on the river I thought that boat was absolutely lovely. I wore these adorable little sailor dresses, and Father let me believe I was helping to sail the boat." Cinderella smiled wistfully. "Sometime we slept on the boat, not in cabins but on the deck or in hammocks; other times we would make a little camp on the riverbank beside the boat. We didn't have any servants, Father did all the cooking, and I helped him with the washing. And the countryside was so lovely, and all the little places we passed through were so charming, and we even met some other people doing the same thing as us who were ever so friendly. Sometimes we camped together, other times we simply waved to one another as their boast passed ours by, or headed in the other direction." She paused. "I'm afraid it didn't help Mother get any better, but... but at least we all spent a wonderful time together, before..." She looked away from Eugene, turning her head upwards towards the stars. "They're beautiful, aren't they?"

"Yes," Eugene said, brushing his hand once more against her cheek, and gently touching her nose with the tip of one finger. "Very much so."

Cinderella looked at him again. "Eugene, I-"

Eugene's stomach rumbled loudly.

He laughed a tad shamefacedly. "I actually came out not only to see that you were alright, but to fetch you in for dinner," he admitted. "But now..."

"But now?" Cinderella asked.

"I'd like to stay out here, if we can," Eugene said.

Cinderella shifted her hands on Philippe, embracing him with her left hand as he lay on her front, while with her right hand she reached out from underneath Eugene's jacket. "I'd like that, too," she said quietly.

Eugene took her hand in his, their fingers intertwining. He looked up. "They really are beautiful, aren't they?"

"They really are," Cinderella said, her eyes upon Eugene.

Eugene was silent for a moment, before he said, "When this is all over, when peace had returned, let's take the royal yacht and sail up the Vilaine to Rennes, the five of us. We can sleep on board, or on the river bank, and look up at the stars each night as they shine down on us."

"Really?" Cinderella gasped.

"Yes, really," Eugene said. He turned his head to look at her once more. "I... I think I'd like that."

Cinderella's smile was as bright as the stars above them. "I think I'd like that, too."