by Shea, K. M.
Who could she approach?
Cinderella shook her head and turned her attention to the books. She was better off pondering her problems at a time less pressing than the present. The Colonel was a rogue, to be sure, but he was controlled enough that he would not do anything dark or dangerous to Cinderella.
She would have to be satisfied with that. For now.
“Mademoiselle?”
Cinderella groaned and covered her head with her arms. It had been a long day. All she wanted to do was doze on her bed. Who cared about dinner?
“Mademoiselle?”
“What is it, Jeanne?”
“Lady Klara requests your presence.”
Cinderella sat up. “What?”
“Lady Klara requests your presence in her private rooms,” Jeanne repeated.
Cinderella slid off her bed. “Did she say why? Did she seem angry?”
“She gave no indication why she needed to see you, Mademoiselle,” Jeanne said as they hurried out of Cinderella’s bedroom.
Curse me, it’s as if my ponderings from yesterday brought her attention to me. What does she want now? Cinderella thought.
When they reached the private parlor situated against Lady Klara’s rooms, they stopped.
Cinderella tried to shake the worst of the wrinkles from her dress and smoothed her short hair into place.
Jeanne curtsied to her before she knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Lady Klara said, her voice its usual tone of ice and snow.
Jeanne opened the door. “Your Ladyship. Mademoiselle Cinderella,” she said, her voice faltering before she curtsied again.
When Cinderella entered the parlor, Jeanne fled, shutting the door behind her.
“You wanted to see me, Step-Mother?” Cinderella asked, performing a curtsey of courtesy.
“Cinderella. I have been told a young soldier from Erlauf has been paying you a particular amount of attention,” Lady Klara said.
“I bet he’s nothing but a common squad soldier,” Silla—the oldest of Cinderella’s two step-sisters—sneered.
Mariska, the younger daughter and the kinder of the two, dropped the book of poetry she was reading on her sister’s foot. “I am sorry, Silla. Did that hurt?”
“You! Why do you protect her? She’s nothing but a—,” Silla started.
Lady Klara shifted in her wooden arm chair, making it creak.
Both of her daughters fell silent.
Lady Klara continued, “I am aware you have turned seventeen, making you eligible for marriage. As a result, I caution you to be careful of whom you choose to associate with—a lesson my daughter would be wise to learn as well.”
“Of course, Step-Mother,” Cinderella said.
“I would not want you to bring shame upon your father’s name, after all,” Lady Klara smirked.
Cinderella dug her chipped fingernails into the palms of her hands. “Yes, Step-Mother,” Cinderella said, her voice shaking.
“That is all. Good night, Cinderella.”
“Good night Step-mother, Silla, Mariska,” Cinderella said, curtseying before she rushed from the room. When she got outside of the poisonous room she leaned against the wall, her shoulders heaving with silent sobs.
How dare she. How dare this Erlauf Widow who hated Papa stand there and use him to judge me!
“I hate them,” Cinderella whispered. “I hate Erlauf.”
Cinderella frowned as she wrestled thin willow branches into place, trying her hand at making a wicker basket. One of the maids left her with a sample basket and pattern as well as several started bases, but Cinderella’s basket was lopsided, and the branch ends poked out like twigs in a bird’s nest.
“Are you trying to make it look like that, or is it supposed to resemble this one?” the Colonel asked, holding up the sample basket.
Cinderella glared at the Colonel. “Don’t you have work to do?” she asked, savagely stabbing the willow in the weaving pattern.
“I’ve made my afternoons clear for most of the week. More time to spend with you, Pet.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not? It’s endearing.”
“It’s improper and implies a closer relationship than we have.”
“Why don’t we fix that?” the Colonel asked, sitting in the shade of the tent with Cinderella. They were positioned behind Aveyron’s market stall, separated from the hustle and bustle by canvas drop cloths and tents.
“Or perhaps we should not,” Cinderella said.
Summer was starting to sweep through Erlauf and its colonies—Trieux included. The temperatures were rising, and all of the spring flowers had bloomed.
Cinderella was grateful for the shade as she tried bending the willow branch and was whacked in the face for her efforts. “It is beyond me how a Colonel can find so much time to waste,” Cinderella muttered.
“It is rare. You and I just happen to be lucky,” the Colonel said.
“I feel so blessed,” Cinderella said through gritted teeth. The branch she tried to ease into place cracked. Cinderella plucked the branch out of the basket. “Blast this thing!”
“What are you making baskets for?” the Colonel asked, picking up one of the started bases.
“We use them in the market stand, and for collecting crops.”
“Yes, but why are you making baskets?”
“Because it is better to attempt to be useful than to sit around like a worthless ornament,” Cinderella said.
“Is that an implication to your resentment of the ban I have placed on your little historical tours?” the Colonel asked, studying the basket pattern.
“I would never say that, sir.”
“It’s Friedrich,” the Colonel said as he selected a willow branch and started weaving it around the base. “And it’s for your safety.”
“You have mentioned that before.”
“And yet you still don’t sound convinced.”
“You were growing tired of history,” Cinderella said, rotating her lopsided basket.
“I was, but my worry is legitimate. If someone makes another attempt against me they will aim to take you down as well,” the Colonel said, comparing his weaving to the sample basket.
“And why would they do that?”
“Because you helped me flee. They think you support me.”
“What is there to support? You were a target because you are a colonel in the Erlauf Army. We have nothing to do with each other.”
“That’s not entirely true,” the Colonel said with a sly smile.
Cinderella tried to smooth the uneven lumps in her weaving. “Yes, it is,” she firmly said.
“They won’t see it that way. As far as assassins are concerned, keeping them from their target is as good as throwing your lot in with their target. I am a soldier, but you are undefended. I worry about you,” the Colonel said, leaning close enough to Cinderella so he could slide his hand under her chin.
“I thank you for your concern, but I assure it is not necessary,” Cinderella said, inching away from the Colonel.
The Colonel grinned and returned to basket weaving.
Several moments later, the curtain dividing the back of the tent from the front stand was thrown aside.
“Cinderella I heard about—” Marie cut herself off with a gasp. She stared at Cinderella and the Colonel, who were both sitting on the ground, surrounded by baskets. “Oh my,” she said, snapping a fan open to fan herself.
Cinderella considered standing to introduce the Colonel before deciding it would give him too much worth. “Marie, I present to you Colonel Friedrich of the First Regiment in the Dragon Army. Colonel Friedrich, this is Madame Marie Raffin, my dearest friend and long-time companion,” Cinderella said, frowning when she realized the Colonel’s basket was more even and round than hers.
The Colonel stood and set his basket aside to remove his army hat and give Marie a sweeping bow. “The pleasure is all mine,” he said before taking his spot on the ground again.
“Thank you,” Marie said, uncertain.
“Madame Raffin, your husband is a merchant, is he not?” the Colonel asked, taking Cinderella’s basket from her and passing her his.
Cinderella accepted the exchange and started weaving willow branches into his neater basket as the Colonel set about fixing hers.
“He is. His name is Armel Raffin.”
“I have heard good things of your wares. How is business?” the Colonel asked.
“Well enough,” Marie said, brushing her fan through the air.
“I’ve been trying to convince Cinderella she needs to plant flowers,” the Colonel said.
“Why?” Marie cautiously asked, as if the Colonel were a rabid bear.
“Citizens of Erlauf are enthusiastic about nature, but we are especially amorous of flowers. One could make a fine profit on flowers in this area as it is an untapped market,” the Colonel said, his eyebrows furrowing as he studied the basket pattern.
“It’s the wrong season,” Cinderella said.
“For spring flowers, yes. However, if you planted summer flowers now you would have enough time for them to grow, I should think,” the Colonel said. “Do you want me to visit Aveyron to point out proper places to grow flowers? I’ve been reading up on the subject.”
“No, thank you, sir,” Cinderella said.
“Friedrich,” the Colonel countered.
“Marie, what brought you to Aveyron’s stand?” Cinderella asked, ignoring the Colonel’s wriggling eyebrows.
“The usual. Werra gossip and such,” Marie said.
When it was obvious the Colonel’s gaze was attached to his basket weaving, Marie flapped her fan and bugged her eyes at Cinderella before jabbing her fan at the Colonel.
Cinderella shrugged and shook her head.
“The weather has been quite nice, hasn’t it?” Marie hastily said when the Colonel glanced up.
“It has. I hope it is just as pleasant in Loire,” Cinderella said.
“Why?” the Colonel blinked.
“For the royal wedding,” Marie said. “Prince Severin has married a merchant’s daughter.”
“Prince Severin? The cursed prince?” the Colonel said.
“Yes. His bride broke the curse, I gather,” Cinderella said. “I imagine their wedding was lovely.”
“Yes, if not slightly unusual,” Marie said.
“What do you mean?” the Colonel asked.
“It is abnormal for a nobleman, much less royalty, in Loire to marry below their station,” Marie said.
“You don’t approve of the union?” the Colonel said.
“I cannot fault the Prince or his lady love, or I would be a hypocrite. However, even I must admit it seems…unusual for the Prince of such a grand country to introduce merchant blood to the line,” Marie said.
The Colonel shrugged. “I forgot, you Trieux folk always modeled yourselves after Loire. It always seemed to me they put on airs. Besides, isn’t Prince Severin illegitimate? For all we know his wife’s blood could be better than his.”
“Friedrich!” Cinderella gasped.
The Colonel smiled in delight, softening the stark black of his eye patch. “Yes?”
Cinderella was aware of her slip-up, but she was still aghast at his terrible manners. “You may have forgotten but Marie and I are still ladies!”
“Do not worry about it. I will forgive you,” the Colonel soothed.
“You are being indecent,” Cinderella said, bending a willow branch in her anger.
“Very well, then. Strike the second part of my argument and allow me to amend it with this: isn’t marrying the peasant class vogue right now? King Henrik of Arcainia just married a commoner not four weeks ago, or so,” the Colonel said.
“True,” Marie acknowledged.
“And everyone knows Crown Prince Steffen of Arcainia married a commoner. Yes, she has the title of Marquise because she killed the ogre, or troll, or what-have-you who ruled the lands before her, but it wasn’t inherited,” the Colonel said.
“You are correct,” Marie said.
“But you still don’t approve?” the Colonel said.
Marie shrugged. “Truly it is none of my affair. I will always advocate for lovers to follow their hearts.”
“What do you think, Cinderella?” the Colonel asked.
Cinderella stared at the basket in her hands. The Colonel’s beginner but well-constructed base was still intact, but the layers Cinderella added were lopsided and filled with holes. “I think I have no talent for basket weaving.”
The Colonel chuckled as he set his basket aside. “You’ll get better. I’m off. It was good to meet you, Marie Raffin,” he said, standing and bowing to both ladies. “Until next time. Stay safe, Pet,” he said, reaching out to brush Cinderella’s cheek with his hand.
Cinderella leaned out of his range. “Good day to you, sir.”
The Colonel smiled to Marie. “She plays hard to get, but she enjoys it,” he said before ducking out of the tent to avoid the basket Cinderella threw at him.
“That man,” Cinderella seethed.
Marie twitched the tent diver aside to watch him go. “He’s not what I expected.”
“He’s worse, isn’t he?”
“No,” Marie hesitated. “I think he may be serious about you.”
“What? If that was a joke, it wasn’t very funny, Marie,” Cinderella said, joining Marie to watch Friedrich disappear into the market. Even though he and Cinderella were on good terms, most of the market vendors treated Friedrich with suspicion, whispering behind his back and watching his movements with narrowed eyes.
“I wasn’t jesting.”
“It makes no sense. Why would a colonel want a penniless Trieux noble—the daughter of someone he hated? Besides, you saw him. He is a charmer and a player.”
“Yes,” Marie said. “But how many charmers have you seen sit down and make baskets with those whose hearts they intend to play with?”
Cinderella froze in the middle of stacking baskets.
“What do you think of him?” Marie asked.
“It doesn’t matter what I think of him. He could never afford me,” Cinderella said.
“You don’t know that. He may be rich,” Marie said.
“Everyone knows it is mostly the second and third sons of Erlauf nobility who become officers. He has a high social rank and pocket money enough to live comfortably, but he could not possibly supplement Aveyron’s income,” Cinderella said.
“Does he need to?”
“Do you really mean to say you would rather see me with that Erlauf rat than Julien or Marcus?”
“No. But…”
“But?”
“You smiled. Your smile has been a rare thing these days.”
“It was a sarcastic smile! I find that man to be indecent and barely tolerable. I cannot believe you would even entertain the idea that he would seek to have my hand, and that I would rejoice over it!”
Marie shrugged. “Perhaps you are right.”
“Of course I am right,” Cinderella said.
“But if that is the case, if I were you, I would think about how one would decline the suit of such a high-ranking officer.”
Cinderella looked her friend in the eye. “He isn’t serious, Marie. I am a toy to him.”
“Perhaps, but it would be wise of you to prepare. Just in case,” Marie said.
Cinderella mulishly tucked her chin to her neck, ready to argue her case. The fight deflated her, though, when she remembered the warnings from the market venders that she hadn’t heeded. “Alright,” she agreed.
“Thank you, Cinderella.”
“Of course,” Cinderella said, puttering with the baskets.
“Personally, I am surprised. He seems much more likeable than I would have estimated.”
“What do you mean, likeable? He acts like a half-daft yokel.”
“I thought his defense of Prince Severin and his bride was quite endearing,” Marie said, her eyes on the g
round.
Cinderella winced at her callous words. Of course Marie—a duke’s daughter but the wife of a merchant—would be touched by his actions.
“It was quite honorable of him,” Cinderella said. “Now, what really brought you here?”
“Oh, yes. I wanted to talk to you about Colonel Friedrich. I did not think I would get the chance to meet him.”
“My apologies for the experience.”
Marie laughed. “Cinderella! At the very least, you must admit he makes a better basket than you.”
“Thank you for the reminder. I shall have to keep that in mind if I ever decide to pursue the livelihood of basket weaver.”
“I have the report from General Harbach,” Merrich said, entering Friedrich’s office.
“What report?”
“The one detailing the questioning of your would-be killers—that delightful group of men you ran into with your trollish lady love.”
Friedrich ignored the taunt. “And?”
“It’s not good,” Merrich said, tossing the report on Friedrich’s desk before he sat down in an empty chair. “You were strategically targeted.”
Friedrich snorted. “That is hardly a surprise,” he said, paging through the report.
“Yes, but that’s not the bad news.”
“Oh?”
“They weren’t Trieux rebels or advocates,” Merrich said.
“I should think not. Even Trieux citizens would not be so stupid as to murder me with Trieux weapons. It would start another wave of persecution and suspicion. Our government would crack down even harder on them,” Friedrich said, propping his military boots up on a footstool.
“I don’t believe you are taking this seriously enough,” Merrich said.
“Why would you say that?”
“Because if they weren’t Trieux rebels, and no one from Erlauf would hurt a hair on your head, that means we have another enemy out there,” Merrich said.
“The assailants were paid a private contract?” Friedrich frowned, skimming the papers.
“Yes. They met with a handful of contacts in various countries before receiving you as their elimination assignment. It’s all very cloak-and-dagger. What’s most disconcerting is that they were officially hired and dispatched by a dark mage.”