Chapter 5
The day after the attack against Colonel Friedrich, Cinderella broke into the Trieux Royal Library.
As a result of the increased patrols city-wide, the patrols around the library were lessened to free up soldiers. Cinderella may not get another good chance for her illegal activity, so she waited until the late afternoon before she went to Werra, making her way to the closed library.
A kerchief tied over her eye-catching hair served as her poor disguise, but none of the patrolling soldiers looked twice at her, so Cinderella judged the time to be perfect.
She hummed as she walked to the back end of the library, which was pressed against the backside of the Trieux House of Lords—where the Trieux nobility used to meet to vote on matters of the country.
Both buildings were closed, so Cinderella only had to worry about outdoor activities.
Cinderella kept her gait slow and even, acting unconcerned as she adjusted the basket on her arm. “Rats,” she said when she rounded the corner. The back window she used to squirm indoors was boarded up from the inside.
Cinderella pushed against the wooden block, testing its strength. It didn’t budge.
“So much for that route—although it took them months to figure out that was how I got in. Where else can I…ah-hah,” Cinderella said when she spied an open window. It was higher up, well above Cinderella’s head, but its wooden shutters hung, barely secured enough to shield the open window from the weather. The scarcely useful shutters were casualties from the mistreatment the building suffered when Erlauf marched against the capital.
Cinderella traveled the back end of the building to peer around either corner. A patrol wasn’t due for a few minutes, but one could never be too careful.
Cinderella retreated to the window and pushed a crate against the wall. She was still too short to reach the wooden sill. Cinderella piled several planks on the crate before she tried again.
Cinderella stood on her tip toes, and still lacked the height. She jumped and her hands brushed the window sill, but she wasn’t strong enough to pull herself up. She hung there for the barest moment before her arms gave out, and she fell back on the crate.
She placed her hand on her hips and glared at the wall before she tried climbing up, wedging her fingers and feet in cracks and gaps between the stone blocks that made up the library.
She climbed up only one layer of the blocks when a voice behind her said, “So you’re the lawbreaker that’s been evading my men for the past year?”
Cinderella shrieked, lost her grip, and fell back on the crate. She lost her balance and toppled over the side. Cinderella rubbed her stinging side as she boosted herself into an upright position. “Ah, Colonel Friedrich. What a surprise it is to see you here,” Cinderella said when she realized who stood with her in the back alley.
It was her rotten luck he would find her.
“This explains those skills of evasion you displayed yesterday. You had months of practice from leading soldiers on long, merry chases whenever they happened upon you clawing your way inside the library,” the Colonel said.
“What? Do you mean—? No, I would never attempt to break and enter! Why, I was trying to secure the open window, of course. Do you know how much damage the wind and rain could do to the books? It surely is an oversight to leave it open,” Cinderella said, gravely shaking her head as she planned her exit. It made her uneasy to be alone with him.
The Colonel narrowed his eye. “It’s impressive you’ve evaded attention so long with your illicit actions. Although I suppose I cannot blame my men for not finding you. I hardly recognized you myself with your hair covered so skillfully.”
“What? Sir, I am offended by your presumptions,” Cinderella said, looking down her nose at the Colonel as he gathered up her basket.
“Don’t tell me you go in there to actually use the library?” the Colonel said, going over the contents of her basket: a bottle of cheap, ash-based ink; two quills; matches; and curls of birch bark.
“I, sir, am a law-abiding citizen. As such, I would not enter the library as it is currently outlawed,” Cinderella said, brushing off her skirt. “But as you are here, I imagine you can deal with the unsecured window yourself. Would you be so kind as to give me back my things, sir?”
“Friedrich,” the Colonel said, setting the basket down. “Come here.”
“I beg your pardon?” Cinderella asked.
The Colonel wriggled his fingers in a come-closer gesture.
Cinderella minced over to the Colonel. “What,” she started. “Do you want—put me down!” she shrieked when the Colonel picked her up by her waist.
“What are you doing?” Cinderella hissed as the Colonel climbed the crate.
“Helping you break the law. Can you reach the ledge?”
Held higher, the ledge was shoulder-height. “Yes,” Cinderella said, scrambling to grasp the ledge. She set her feet against the stone exterior wall and tried to climb in. She shrieked when the Colonel pushed against her backside—boosting her up and touching her posterior. “Sir! This is highly improper!”
The Colonel only chuckled.
Cinderella purposely booted him in the neck before she squirmed through the window, falling inside. She landed on a narrow walkway set a foot or two down from the window.
Cinderella poked her head out the window. “My basket?”
“Coming up with me,” the Colonel said, tying the basket to his belt. The Colonel made the climb much more gracefully. He jumped and grabbed the sill before pushing off the wall with his feet like Cinderella had attempted.
A few graceful, slithering movements, and the Colonel eased his way inside.
“Wow. It’s a disgrace in here,” the Colonel said, squinting at the dust-coated walkway and railings, and the dusty shelves of books that extended before him like a wooden army.
“What do you expect? No one has been allowed in since the takeover,” Cinderella said, snatching her basket from the Colonel’s belt.
She marched down the walkway, taking a set of rickety stairs to the base floor.
“It’s getting dark. Will you be able to see in here well enough to read?” the Colonel asked.
As he had all but thrown her inside, Cinderella estimated the Colonel wasn’t likely to drag her off to jail. His manners seemed to promise that he would not do anything indecent, even though they were alone, either. So she replied, “There are candles,” as she orientated herself in the library and looked for the places where, in previous trips, she upset clouds of dust.
“Funny, you don’t strike me as the reading type,” the Colonel said.
“I’m not,” Cinderella said, leading the way between two rows of books.
“You must be. Why else would you break in a library? Unless…do you hawk the books?”
“What? No! First of all, what kind of lowlife steals from a library? And secondly, all the books have the Trieux royal seal on them. Only a madman would buy something with the Trieux seal these days,” Cinderella said.
“It does not escape me you have a moral and a practical reason for your lack of black-market selling,” the Colonel said.
“I’m not here to read for fun, nor am I hear to steal,” Cinderella said, stopping at a shelf partially cleared of dust.
“Then what are you here for?”
“Research,” Cinderella said, selecting several volumes of leather-bound books before she walked deeper into the library.
In the very center of the library were several desks pushed together to form a work station. There were unlit candles placed in half globes of silver. Cinderella set her books down in the dying light before she dug out the matches from her basket and lit two of the candles.
The silver globes let Cinderella direct the candlelight to make a sort of spotlight, and they sheltered the light from twinkling up to the ceiling—a light source patrolling soldiers were sure to notice.
The Colonel pawed through one of the books Cinderella stacked in front of her. “Farming? You’re researching farming techniques?”
“Yes,” Cinderella said, opening her ink set and dipping a quill in it before she started taking notes on the scraps of birch bark.
“I don’t understand. Why?”
“In case you have forgotten, sir, I am a lady. My upbringing did not include classes on crop rotation, field yields, and formulating fertilizer.”
“What about your servants? Don’t they know about farming?”
“The basics, yes. But they knew only what we grew. Aveyron’s income came mostly from livestock.”
“And that’s no longer an option?”
“It still is a main source of income, but the taxes your sweet queen imposes on me do not allow for me to waste acreage. I must use all the resources I have available. We can’t keep doing what we always did. We have to expand and investigate other options. Like winter crops. This was the first season we successfully cultivated them since well before my grandfather’s time,” Cinderella said, turning a page in her book.
“You should grow flowers,” the Colonel said. “Everyone from Erlauf is crazy about flowers.”
“Mmm,” Cinderella said as she scratched out a list of possible summer crops.
The Colonel studied their darkening surroundings. “Any idea where the map books are?”
“Before the takeover, I never once set foot in this building in my life. It took me ages to find the agricultural section. I have no idea where to find any other type of book,” Cinderella said.
“Of course. I’m going to have a look around. I’ll be back shortly, Pet,” the Colonel said, striding off into the shadows of the bookcases.
Cinderella watched him go with narrowed eyes. She needed to talk to someone about the Colonel’s conduct. He toed the line of propriety, but he did not seem serious in pursuing anything lasting.
But who could she talk to? Marie would only push Cinderella to accept Julien or Marcus. Lady Delattre would be a sympathetic ear, but was unlikely to have any useful advice. Lady Klara would be a source of sound advice, as stiff and proper as she was, but Cinderella had a friendlier relationship with the Colonel than she did with her step-mother.
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 ground.
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.”
“A mage?”
“One exiled by the Veneno Conclave, yes. Worst yet, she was only a representative. She didn’t write the contract out of personal spite.”
“Whom did she represent?”
Merrich shrugged. “They didn’t know. All they said was that she hired them on behalf of an organization or movement of some sort.”
Friedrich grimly leaned back in his chair. “I don’t like it,” he said. “A month ago our southern border was plagued with wraiths. Last week, a company from the Fifth Regiment took out a giant, and now we hear my assassins were hired by a mage?”
“That’s too much activity from dark magic to be a coincidence,” Merrich said. “We used to get a handful of evil based entity fights per year. Now they happen almost weekly.”
“And yet the parts of Erlauf that used to belong to Trieux remain unscathed,” Friedrich said.
“You think Trieux is somehow involved?”
“No. I think whoever or whatever is doing this is lulling them into a false sense of security. Our troubles are not widely publicized, after all.”
“What do we do?”
Friedrich tapped his fingers on his desk. “I will speak to the Commander. Before we take any serious action, it would be wise to speak to representatives from the Veneno Conclave. We don’t want to step on their toes, after all.”
Merrich nodded. “I will tell Hardbutt.”
Friedrich rolled his eyes. “One day General Harbach will catch you on that, and he will string you up by your tongue.”
Merrich laughed. “Thank you for your concern, but you had best worry about your own neck first. Which reminds me, I saw Diederick earlier today.”
“Oh?”
“He said to tell you if you got yourself killed by assassins he would refuse to allocate funds for a gravestone or coffin.”
Friedrich winced. “Sometimes I wonder how he obtained his high position with his terrible personality.”
Merrich slapped his leg and stood. “He’s good at what he does. But enough of our dreary discussion. Work calls, and I intend to go out tonight. Will you come with? Friedrich?” Merrich asked when his friend didn’t respond.
“Sorry, just thinking,” Friedrich said.
“Of what?”
Friedrich hesitated. “I had decided to take additional precautions regarding Cinderella’s safety, but I don’t think it’s enough. I might need to place more soldiers on guard duty around her as well.”
“That would be wise. You can bet whatever is behind this flux of darkness will aim for her now that you have made your infatuation with her infallibly clear.”
“I don’t think she will warm to the idea of strange men following her around.”
Merrich shrugged. “So introduce her to them. I’m off. Read the report before you talk to the Commander, please,” Merrich said before disappearing through the door.
Friedrich barely noticed his friend’s exit. “Introduce her? Why not? It’s earlier than I wanted them to know of her, but her safety…” Friedrich trailed off. “I’ll do it,” he decided. “It will take some planning, but I will bring Cinderella to the First Regiment.”