by Shea, K. M.
“I should have known you would scorn the easy way. You enjoy making things difficult. What’s so bad about the easy way?”
“I find it unimaginative, not to mention disloyal to my future.”
“Future?”
“I don’t know whom my husband will be until the proposal is accepted and the wedding date is picked. A million things could happen before the offer. It has been expected of me to marry Julien Rosseux since my father died. My body is the one thing I truly have to barter with now that Aveyron is swimming in debt. I suspect I’m worth more as long as I remain untouched.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think of it. If I were to marry you, how would you feel knowing I kissed Julien a great deal?”
Friedrich was silent.
“And there you have it. Physical affection, for me, is a matter of loyalty and wealth. I will fight for my future, even if I don’t know whom it involves,” Cinderella said, clasping her hands behind her back before she started walking.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to the market.”
“You’re just going to leave me?”
“Now that I feel better, I have things to do.”
Friedrich muttered about headstrong females as he squinted up at the sun.
“Friedrich.”
“What?” he grumbled.
“Thank you,” Cinderella said. She smiled, a gesture that transformed her already pretty features into a vision of gentleness and beauty. “Thank you for coming, and thank you for cheering me up.”
Friedrich dumbly nodded
“Until tomorrow,” Cinderella said.
“Until tomorrow, my love!” Friedrich called.
“Don’t push your luck.”
“If I didn’t, I’d be ashamed of myself,” Friedrich shouted as Cinderella left the gardens, a smile on her face and a spring in her steps.
Chapter 8
Cinderella was the last to arrive to the Delattres’ dinner party. She wore her beloved summer dress—a creation of lavender silk that brought out the stark gray of her eyes and the vivid red hue of her hair.
It was a day costume, so Cinderella was woefully underdressed, but at least she was more presentable than usual. She even had a clean, black shawl she wore for the walk to the manor. As she handed it off to a servant, someone called out for her.
“Cinderella!”
“Marcus,” Cinderella said with a smile. “My, you’ve grown taller since we last met.”
Marcus was all laughter and smiles. “I’m taller than Mama, and I’m nearly taller than you too, I think.”
“I think so as well,” Cinderella said, slowly walking in the direction of the sitting room. “Did only you accompany your parents, or are your little brother and sister present as well?”
“It’s just me. The littles wanted to come, but Father said they’re too young.” Marcus said before remembered himself and offered his arm to Cinderella, which she took. “Everyone else is already here.”
“The Feautres, the Leroys, and the Rosseuxes?”
“Yes.”
“Which of their children did they bring?”
“The Leroys arrived with one of their sons and daughters-in-law. No grandchildren, blessings be said and repeated,” Marcus said, wiping his forehead with great exaggeration. “The Rosseuxes brought Julien, of course, but not Cerise, which is a shame. She has this ear-piercing whistle she said she would teach me—ah,” Marcus broke off and cleared his throat. “The Feautres arrived shortly after we did. Their daughters are with them,” Marcus scowled.
“All of them?” Cinderella asked in surprise.
“No, just the two oldest,” Marcus said, his scowl deepening as they stood just outside the salon.
Cinderella smiled fondly at the young nobleman. He was doing his best to act mature for her sake, but he was barely fourteen, and as squirrely as a puppy. Cinderella patted Marcus’ arm. “You are spending the night?”
“Yes.”
“If you have time, tomorrow please stop by Aveyron,” Cinderella said.
Marcus dropped his young enthusiasm. “Oh?” he said.
Amused, Cinderella inclined her head to the younger boy. “One of the sheep dogs had a litter of puppies four weeks ago. I thought you might enjoy playing with them while your parents have tea or refreshments with the Delattres. I will not likely be around to show you the puppies, but any of Aveyron’s staff members can direct you to them.”
Cinderella was rewarded with a brilliant smile from Marcus. He kept it intact as they entered the salon, still arm in arm.
Their entrance did not go unnoticed. Julien Rosseux stood and bowed to Cinderella, his eyes flicking between her and Marcus.
Lady Leroy said with loud horror, “Lady Lacreux, what happened to you?”
As Marcus hadn’t said anything, or even seemed to notice, Cinderella hoped her short hair would pass the observation of the nobles who hadn’t yet seen it. Apparently she was too optimistic. “I beg your pardon?” Cinderella said.
“Your hair,” Lady Leroy said, aghast.
Lord Leroy held up a pair of eyeglasses to his eyes. “Eh?” he said.
Cinderella ruefully ran a hand through her shorter locks. “Ah, yes. I had it cut,” Cinderella said.
“Shorn is closer to the truth,” Lady Feautre said, her voice tight and hateful.
“I think its jolly,” Marcus said, impudent and quick to defend Cinderella. “I can’t imagine how hot you ladies are in the summer with the sun and heat.”
“Marcus,” Lady Girard warned.
Marcus grunted in impatience, but bowed to Cinderella before he left her to stand beside his mother at the fireplace.
“It is a cut unfit for a lady of nobility,” Lady Feautre said.
“It is quite unseemly,” Rosette, the Feautres’ second daughter, said. She widened her china doll blue eyes as she stared at Cinderella. She sat with her sister, Violette, on a settee.
Violette was kinder than her mother and her sister, but she was a mousy, quiet thing. She gave Cinderella a scared look but said not a word.
“Now, now. Let us not be unkind to Lady Lacreux,” Lady Delattre said.
“It is not unkind to note what she takes no pains to hide,” Lady Feautre said.
“What?” Lord Leroy loudly asked, his gray mustache quivering as he leaned forward.
“Cinderella has cut her hair,” Lady Leroy shouted into her husband’s ear.
“Ah, yes. Lady Lacreux does have bright red hair,” Lord Leroy nodded.
“Shameful,” Lady Feautre murmured.
“Lady Lacreux looks divine no matter the state of her hair,” Julien said, bowing over Cinderella’s hand.
“Thank you, Julien,” Cinderella said.
Lady Feautre rolled her eyes and huffed.
“Now that we have all arrived, shall we proceed with dinner?” Lord Delattre said, diverting the topic.
“It’s about time,” Lord Rosseux muttered.
“Please sit where your name card has been placed,” Lady Delattre said as she took her husband’s arm and led the way to the dining hall.
Julien accompanied Cinderella. The pair was silent as they followed their hosts, and it came as no surprise to either of them that they sat together with Marcus on Cinderella’s other side.
“Say, Julien, where is Cerise?” Marcus asked as he sat down.
“She claimed she had a headache this evening and asked to remain home,” Julien said, holding Cinderella’s chair out for her.
“Faked,” Marcus muttered under his breath. “Talk about unfair.”
“I beg your pardon, I couldn’t hear that. What did you say?” Julien asked as he slid Cinderella’s chair in for her as she sat.
“Nothing,” Marcus cheerfully said.
“Is it really proper for Cinderella to sit between the only eligible men in the room, without a chaperon?” Lady Feautre said, a scowl etched upon her handsome face as she stared down the table like a hawk.
“Cinderella. She is not chaperoned,” Lady Feautre said, gesturing to Cinderella.
“Pish-posh. What could happen at dinner?” Lord Leroy said before he winked at Cinderella.
“Favoritism runs rampant in this part of the country,” Lady Feautre said with a sniff to her husband.
The man, henpecked as he was, barely managed a shrug.
“Jealousy is quite the look on Lady Feautre,” Marcus whispered to Cinderella.
“Marcus,” Cinderella chided.
The younger boy grinned, unrepentant.
“What is so funny, Marcus? Do share,” Rosette said, jostling the table.
“Nothing,” Marcus said.
“The dreadful Queen Freja has been blessedly silent the past month,” Lord Girard said. “I almost have hopes she will forget to raise taxes come the harvest season.”
“It is still plenty early. She is a miser who will not overlook her grudge against us,” Lord Rosseux snorted.
“She cannot hope to tax us much more,” Lady Delattre said.
“Never underestimate the greed of Erlauf,” Lord Rosseux said as servants placed trays of food on the table.
“I was told a delegate from the Veneno Conclave will meet with their majesties over the summer. Perhaps they mean to discuss Erlauf’s conduct?” Lady Girard said.
“Unlikely,” Lord Leroy’s son said. “The Veneno Conclave takes great pains to stay out of government and country debates, lest they be accused of siding with someone or using magic to aid one country over another.”
“If we were smart, we would have bought an estate in Loire the moment Erlauf camped in Werra,” Lord Girard said.
“Why should I leave my country and my land because of some Erlauf upstart?” Lord Rosseux asked.
“Erlauf has more military power than Trieux could ever hope to muster,” Lord Delattre said. “That was why we six, now five I suppose, voted as we did.”
“This is so. Which is why it would have been best to flee Erlauf’s grasp altogether. They wouldn’t dare bother us in Loire’s borders. Loire is still the biggest, most influential country,” Lord Girard said.
“Hear, hear,” Lady Leroy said.
“Perhaps,” Julien said. “But they lost some of their opulence when they bowed to Arcainia.”
“Loire, bow to Arcainia? That peasant-infested place? Pah,” Lord Rosseux said. “What nonsense have you been filling your mind with, boy?”
Julien slumped under his father’s criticism, but said, “They had proof the princes of Arcainia dispatched Verglas assassins to kill His Highness Prince Severin. Instead of taking action, they solidified ties with Arcainia.”
“This is true; you cannot deny the nearly perfect Loire lost some of its splendor through that trial,” Lord Leroy’s son said.
“Rumor has it, Arcainia has an edge in the global marketplace on exports and agriculture ventures,” Lord Girard said.
“Farming! Such things are for the common class to worry over, not nobility,” Lady Feautre said. “As members of the peerage, we should be more concerned with preserving our bloodlines, lest the Erlauf commoners try to take our daughters, too,” she said, casting a look at Violette and Rosette.
“Do not worry about us, Mama. We know better than to associate with that kind,” Rosette said.
“Yes, I raised you to be above that,” Lady Feautre said. “But it is not just my girls I worry for. Cinderella, I have heard you spend much of your time with an Erlauf Soldier.”
Cinderella kept her expression pleasant. “I have become acquainted with an Erlauf Colonel, yes.”
“Why ever would you want to make such an acquaintance?” Lady Leroy said, holding a hand to her impressive bosom.
“I wasn’t given a choice. He is quite persistent,” Cinderella said, sipping her wine.
“This is what happens when one forgets one’s place and scuttles about, doing work and things beneath them,” Lord Rosseux said.
“Cinderella can’t help that someone from Erlauf bothers her because she’s beautiful,” Marcus frowned.
Lord Girard hastily cleared his throat. “What Marcus means to say is Lady Lacreux should not be held responsible for the poor conduct of those from Erlauf.”
“Yes,” Lady Girard said, scowling at her son.
Marcus guilty locked his gaze on his food and started eating.
“You should report him for bothering you, dear,” Lady Delattre said. “It is not right that he shadows you.”
“The Colonel has been respectful. I find little fault in his conduct,” Cinderella said.
“A likely story, I’m sure,” Lady Feautre said.
Cinderella set her fork down. “Are you accusing me of lying, Lady Feautre?”
“No, of course not, Lady Lacreux. It is only that I was told the soldier hangs about you every day. If he is not being disrespectful, then perhaps you encourage him? Unknowingly so, I suppose,” Lady Feautre said.
“Eh?” Lord Leroy said.
“Lady Lacreux is engaging the enemy,” Lady Leroy told her husband.
“You must have misheard, Lady Feautre. Cinderella would not do something so reprehensible,” Lady Delattre said.
“Indeed, I should hope not,” Lord Rosseux said, glancing down the table to Cinderella and his son. “Not as long as she’s in the position she’s in.”
“It would be shameful to her station and the rest of us,” Rosette said. “Why, think of what those from Erlauf might conclude? They would imagine us to be an easy bunch who will associate with them.”
“You must do something, Lady Lacreux,” Lady Leroy urged. “You have your title and family name to think of.”
“It may be already in disrepair from your actions, but you should at least salvage your reputation, for the sake of whatever family you marry into,” Lady Feautre said, her jealousy showing as she stared hard at Julien and Marcus sitting on either side of Cinderella before looking to her girls. “Don’t you think so, Lady Rosseux?”
“Perhaps,” the quiet lady murmured.
Angered that her fellow nobles, her allies, would set her out like this and judge her, Cinderella narrowed her eyes in a show of resentment “If you must know the reason for Colonel Friedrich’s visits, it is because I was caught up in an assassination attempt and nearly killed,” she said. There was no need to tell them the assassination was meant for Friedrich. It would get them railing against her again. “He visits out of concern for my welfare. I find the gesture to be noble, especially when one takes our differences into consideration. Furthermore, you have no right to judge my interactions with the Colonel. While he does not always act as a gentleman, he has consistently treated me with respect and bows to my wishes and sense of decorum—something I cannot say for everyone present.”
“Well!” Lady Leroy huffed.
“A weather mage stopped through Werra, not four days ago. I spoke with him, and he thought the summer would be balmy but wet,” Lord Delattre said, trying to change the topic.
“Oh? Isn’t that weather good for crops?” Lord Girard said, eagerly grasping the new topic.
Lady Feautre, however, wasn’t finished. “This is what happens when one lets young children run amok with no chaperone: moral ruin.”
“Lady Feautre!” Lady Delattre said.
Several other dinner guests started to correct Lady Feautre, but Cinderella had enough.
Cinderella set her wine glass down and stood. Her eyes flashed as she pushed her chair back. “Lady Feautre, Countess of Eveloy. When you become of such an elevated title that you may question me, Duchess of Aveyron, I will listen to you. Until that day comes, I suggest you bite your tongue. I will forget your ill-bred remarks against myself and Colonel Friedrich if you apologize this instant. If you do not, I shall pay a visit to the courts of peerage tomorrow and lodge a complaint.”
The dinner party froze, as if put under a spell. Since Erlauf t
ook Trieux over, the remaining Trieux nobles united—associating with each other in spite of the difference in rank. It was rarely brought up that as the only remaining Duchess of Trieux, Cinderella held more power than all of those in the room.
Rank had not been pulled since Trieux became Erlauf, although the option was still available. As a Duchess—even a penniless one—Cinderella would absolutely win the complaint. (Not everything had changed with Erlauf, after all.)
The silence of the room was broken when Lord Girard nudged his son, causing Marcus to rocket up into a standing position.
“The Girards will stand witness,” he said, earning an approving nod from his parents.
“As will the Rosseuxes,” Julien said, glancing at his parents as he also stood.
“Forgive me for my ill-timed words,” Lady Feautre stiffly said.
“I will forgive you for your poor conduct in voicing the worst of your thoughts,” Cinderella said before she sat.
Julien and Marcus mimicked her, both uncomfortable with the power Cinderella—heiress and titled—wielded.
“So this weather mage. What was his name?” Lord Girard asked.
“I did not have the chance to ask. He was in quite a hurry to pay homage to an enchantress—a full-ranked Enchantress, not a specialized one—who recently arrived in Trieux, that is to say, Erlauf,” Lord Delattre said.
“An enchantress, you say?” Lord Leroy’s son said.
“Indeed.”
Cinderella relaxed as conversation resumed around her. She was about to start eating again when Marcus whispered to her, “Well done, ‘Rella. It’s about time someone put that old bat in her place.”
“Marcus,” Cinderella hissed.
On her other side Julien shook with the laughter he struggled to mask.
Marcus grinned and asked Julien across Cinderella. “You’ll tell your sister about the fireworks she missed tonight?”
“I don’t think she would forgive me if I didn’t,” Julien said.
“She’ll be upset she missed a good showing,” Marcus said, his voice loaded with satisfaction before he turned all of his attention to his food.
“I think someone is sweet on your sister,” Cinderella whispered to Julien.
“She’s twelve,” Julien said.