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.
“What?” Lord Leroy asked after he seated his wife and took his place next to Lady Feautre.
“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 took 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.
“And he’s barely fourteen,” Cinderella said.
Julien made a pained face. “I hope we won’t have to visit them often. They will be titled terrors with no sense of etiquette.”
“Come now; it won’t be that bad.”
“Yes, it will. My sister has taken to tree-climbing—heaven help her if Father finds out.”
“And your mother?”
“Turns a blind eye. Secretly I think she wants to encourage her,” Julien sighed.
“Think of it this way: they will be a matched pair.”
“Wild hoodlums, the both of them,” Julien said.
Cinderella laughed, aware Lady Feautre watched her with great anger.
The following day, Cinderella still boiled with anger at some of her fellow Trieux nobles. She went to the market with Vitore, but her sour mood scared off three customers before Vitore sent her out back behind the tent to restock baskets with produce.
When potatoes persisted in rolling out of a misshaped basket—one she had made—Cinderella lost her temper and threw the empty basket.
It rolled a few paces before falling at a pair of Erlauf army boots. “Why is it that the past few times I have seen you, you are in the process of an emotional outburst?”
Cinderella sighed. “Hello, Friedrich.”
Friedrich snatched the basket up before joining Cinderella with her produce. “It is too hot for such anger. What is wrong?” He asked as he briefly removed his hat from his head to wave it in front of his face.
Cinderella’s shoulders slumped. “It is nothing.”
Friedrich replaced his hat. “I doubt that.”
“It is only…It’s just…”
“Yes?”
“Last night I dined with the remaining Trieux nobles, and…they talked about us.”
Friedrich handed the basket back to Cinderella. “So you want me to stop hanging about you, I take it?”
“What? No! I’m just so angry at what they implied,” Cinderella said, the basket creaking ominously in her hands as she clenched it.
“What did they imply?”
“That you are a dishonorable knave who hangs about me and salivates like an animal.”
“Did they say nothing of you?”
“Oh, well, they said my conduct was reprehensible. But what makes me so angry is that they would say such judgmental, ill-mannered things when they don’t even know you!”
Friedrich slid out of his Erlauf burgundy army jacket. “I’m from Erlauf. They don’t have to know me to judge me. Or so they would think.”
“But how could they dare to say such, such foolish lies about you and imply that I am morally ruined for speaking to you?” Cinderella spat.
Friedrich did not respond and looked out at the bustling back street.
“…Have your friends said the same sort of things about me to you?” Cinderella asked.
“Hm? Not quite. They know I wouldn’t madly throw myself at just any girl,” he said, brushing the fringe of Cinderella’s bangs.
“They don’t think less of you for befriending a Trieux lady?”
“I don’t think so. They tease me a bit, mostly because they haven’t seen you yet,” he said.
“Why would there be such a stark difference between our treatment? One would think you would have it worse.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re from Erlauf! You took over Trieux. Wouldn’t they look down on you for this?”
“Now that’s prejudice if I ever heard it,” Friedrich said.
“What do you mean?” Cinderella asked.
“It hasn’t escaped me that in spite of our close relationship,” Friedrich said, attempting to lean forward and kiss Cinderella on the forehead. She nudged him away before he could get too close. “You seem rather intent on making Erlauf the villain of the story.”
“That’s because you are,” Cinderella said.
“Pet.”
“It is true! Erlauf invaded Trieux. Erlauf slaughtered the noble class. Those of us from Trieux are stuck in a quagmire of taxes imposed by your Erlauf Queen!”
“But, Darling, you’re overlooking one thing.”
“What?”
“Why did Erlauf invade in the first place?”
Cinderella looked away, but Friedrich was not about to let the subject drop.
“I know you know the reason, Cinderella. Everyone does. Please tell me: why did evil Erlauf invade?”
Cinderella muttered under her breath.
“I didn’t hear that.”
“Why do I have to say it?”
Friedrich’s piercing eye settled on Cinderella with an unusual amount of weight. “Because it is very important to me that we have an understanding on this matter. Why did Erlauf invade?”
Cinderella sighed. “Because Trieux first attacked Erlauf.”
“And why did your family and the other five remaining Trieux families of nobility survive?”
“Must we have this conversation? We both know why.”
“I said this was important.”
Cinderella rubbed the back of her neck. “Because we are the only six families that voted against invading Erlauf in a meeting of the House of Lords. Because of the landslide positive vote, our King approved the petition, and the attack went forward.”
“In the which you were slaughtered against our military might. We turned the tables and instead invaded and conquered Trieux. Poetic justice, one might say.”
“You don’t need to sound so gleeful about it,” Cinderella said, dusting off her dress.
“We aren’t done yet.”
Cinderella placed her hands on her hips. “What more do you want me to say? That Trieux is responsible for the slaughter of your soldiers and the draining of your coffers?”
“Why are you so loyal to your servants? Most Trieux families treat servants like pieces of furniture. No one else is so blasted stubborn in holding on to them. Before the war, you likely saw them as pieces of baggage as well. Why will you not let them go?”
“Because it was the Aveyron servants who risked their lives to speak up for my father and me in an Erlauf court of justice. They were the ones who told that ice-cold queen of yours that Father voted against the war. There, are you satisfied?” Cinderella said, turning her back to the Colonel.
Friedrich placed his hands on Cinderella’s shoulders as she transferred onions from a crate to a basket. “It does not give me joy to make you say this. I just want you to admit Trieux is not the wounded lamb you want it to be.”
Cinderella’s motions slowed. “I know we were wrong. Father said we were fools for thinking we could take Erlauf on, and our government and nobles were too greedy to see that. But…” Cinderella turned around. “Haven’t we been punished enough? Haven’t we paid enough, sweated enough, to make up for that? Must my children and my children’s children mortgage their futures for the sake of one foolish generation?”
“You have, and soon, I hope, your trials will end. The Crown Prince knows the country he will inherit is not united, but terribly divided. He will have to reckon Trieux to Erlauf for it to be a solid kingdom. Our children will not have to go through what you have gone through. The Erlauf Royal Family will see to it.”
“I have no confidence in your royalty. And our children? We are not married,” Cinderella said, ducking out from under Friedrich’s hands.
Friedrich ignored the nay-say. “You will have to forgive them, you know.”
“Who?”
“The Erlauf Royal Family. They are not doing this to be cruel.”
“I will admit Trieux marched to their doom, but you forget: I am the daughter of a man who was forced to marry an Erlauf widow against his will, a woman I still house and feed. I have sold almost every personal possession I own and almost every decorative piece in Aveyron to pay your Erlauf Royal Family’s taxes. I very much doubt they are doing this as a kindness.”
Friedrich sighed. “I suppose your recognition of Trieux’s actions is the most I could hope for today.”
“Wait a moment,” Cinderella said, turning around to face him again. “You have some admitting to do.”
“What more is there to admit? I agree the taxes are heavy and that the Crown Prince will have to do something about that,” Friedrich said.
“Yes, but that isn’t all. Trieux was wrong and terribly foolish, but the grip Queen Freja has over the country isn’t healthy,” Cinderella said.
“What do you mean?”
“Queen Freja acts more like a tyrant than a monarch, and for once I am not referring to the taxes.”
Friedrich frowned.
“Hear me out. She has absolute control, and no one holds her accountable. In Trieux, each noble family had a vote in the House of Lords. The King still had the ultimate power, but he often leaned on the House to make decisions.”
“You mean to say Queen Freja should add a group of law-makers to our government?”
“No,” Cinderella said. “The side-effect of having the House of Lords is everyone knew the government’s business. Nothing was hidden—it’s how Aveyron’s servants knew of Father’s vote.”
“And what has that to do with Queen Freja?” Friedrich asked.
“The reason Trieux citizens treat her with suspicion is because we cannot trust her. If she explained why the random searches and increased patrols are necessary, or if she had a reason for taxing us to poverty, we could better accept it. We would still hate her, but I do not think the tensions between our countries would be quite so…overwhelming,” Cinderella said.
Friedrich blinked. “You want her to explain herself?”
“Yes. The Erlauf government is shrouded in secrecy. We are expected to accept the actions of the royal family blindly and without question. That is most assuredly not the way of Trieux.”
Friedrich shifted. “In the Army, I give orders and expect my men to follow them…but usually an explanation accompanies the orders. It would be dangerous to send ignorant soldiers into combat.”
“Exactly!” Cinderella triumphantly said.
“Perhaps you are right,” Friedrich said, looking uncomfortable. “From a logical standpoint, I can see why it would assure you of Trieux to hear of the queen’s doings. As an Erlauf citizen, though, I do not think it would be easy to change that aspect of the Erlauf monarchy. It is ingrained in our culture that we must trust our monarch implicitly.”
“Then our best hope is the Crown Prince,” Cinderella said. “If he is as aware of the strife as you say he is, he might be more accepting of change.”
Friedrich cleared his throat. “I think a great deal of it will also rest in whomever he marries.”
“Perhaps…,” Cinderella said, considering the thought.
Friedrich was quiet for a few moments. “Did you plant the flowers?” he asked changing the subject.
“The day after you gave me the seeds. They have already begun sprouting,” Cinderella said.
“Already? It has been barely two weeks.”
“The book you gave me mentioned they have a short growing period.”
“Good. I expect you will be able to turn a profit more swiftly than originally estimated?” Friedrich said.
“Indeed. Thank you again for the seeds.”
“Your desires are my goals, Pet.”
“Must you call me that?” Cinderella asked.
“Of course; it is endearing.”
“It is not. It is, ugh. How would you feel if I called you…Scamp?”
“I would be touched.”
“Rogue?”
“Honored.”
“…Fred?”
Friedrich pulled back, as if Cinderella had backhanded him. “You wouldn’t,” he said.
Cinderella smiled and rubbed her hands in delight. “Why not? Fred is a respectable name.”
Friedrich winced. “Words cannot describe how much I dislike that particular shortening of my name.”
“Then at least you will know how I feel.”
“Cinderella,” Friedrich said.
“Yes?”
Friedrich sighed. “You’re no fun.”
“Really? I think I’m hysterical.”
“Killjoy.”
“Whatever you say, Fred.”
“It seems General Hardbutt intends to keep the Second Regiment at Werra,” Merrich said, sipping his pint of ale.
“I believe it is in preparation of Queen Freja’s departure at the end of the year,” Diederick, a friend of Friedrich’s and a government official, said. “The country is stable, but if she intends to tour the lands, the Third Regiment will accompany her,” he said, swirling his mug.
“And the Commander,” Merrich added.
Diederick nodded. “And the Commander,” he echoed. “Their absence will make things… interesting.”
“I don’t think a rebellion is very likely,” Merrich said. “The taxes are stiff, yes, but the commoners don’t seem to mind them too much, and there’s hardly anyone left to lead them.”
“The remaining Trieux nobles are too aware of the precarious situation they are in. No, my friend, Trieux is definitely a part of Erlauf. At least on paper. The peoples’ hearts and loyalties don’t belong to Erlauf, but that is not something I am not responsible for,” Diederick said.
Merrich laughed and leaned back in his chair. “Do you hear that, Friedrich? Friedrich.”
“She called me Fred,” Friedrich said, scowling into his pint.
Merrich laughed again and pounded his hand on the table at which they sat.
“Who?” Diederick asked, adjusting his wire-rimmed eyeglasses.
“His Trieux misses,” Merrich grinned. “Lady Lacreux. She has the looks of the troll, but she sounds like barrels of fun.”
“Lady Lacreux? She does not look—,” Diederick started. He quieted when Friedrich kicked him under the table. “So that is whom you have chosen? She has a fiery temper, I’ve been told. Are you certain you have not bitten off more than you can chew?”
“She’s the one for me,” Friedrich said, lazily balancing his chair on the back two legs.
He and his friends were seated outdoors in front of a tavern where they could watch commoners—Trieux and Erlauf alike—hurry on their way, call out their wares, and gossip and laugh in the open.
Diederick shrugged. “Personally speaking, it makes very little difference to me whom you marry. You will be the one to live with her. You think she is a good choice in every way?”
“Her servants would die for her—although I doubt she knows. They handle her with kid gloves.”
“How do you know?”
“A footman popped one of my soldiers in the head when I sent him to check in on her. The footman thought he was spying on her. The butler nearly busted my man before I could send word,” Friedrich said.
“She is a good choice. Her blood and heritage will bring legitimacy to your position—but do you think she’ll actually say yes?” Diederick asked.
“I’m working on her,” Friedrich said. “She’s softening to Erlauf. Some.”
“When do we get to meet her?” Merrich asked.
“Not for a long while,” Friedrich said. “I don’t want you scaring her off.”
“I’m hurt,” Merrich said before taking a swig of his drink. “I can’t believe you brought her by the camp when I wasn’t there,”
“You took her to the First Regiment’s camp?” Diederick asked.
Friedrich nodded. “Yes.”
“Part of his plan to soften her,” Merrich said.
“I see,” Diederick said.
“I think he’s just acting like a besotted fool,” Merrich said.
“I am not besotted.”
“Then why are you pouting over being called Fred?”
“…”
“And that is my point,” Merrich said with an irritating amount of superiority.
Friedrich rolled his eyes. “You’re just…,” he trailed off when he saw a head of shockingly brilliant red hair.
“This is the historic district of Alzette. The Great Erlauf architect Filibert Frejem designed it over a hundred years ago with the purpose of stimulating commerce. He made revolutionary changes that allowed for shops to be placed close together, with limited fire hazards.”
There was no mistaking that mop of red hair. And even though she was mostly blocked by a group of Erlauf soldiers, Friedrich could never forget the white flag she waggled above her head.
It was Cinderella.
All the soldiers with her were from the First Regiment. Friedrich thought he saw Ivo and Kurt among the crowd, perhaps even Gustav.
“I’m just?” Merrich prompted.
“Uhhh,” Friedrich said.
Diederick turned in his chair to see what Friedrich stared at. “Oh, is that—,”
“If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I must leave for a moment. I will return for more drinks, you can be sure,” Friedrich said, standing up so quickly his chair was thrown to the ground. “Keep him here,” Friedrich said to Diederick as Merrich righted the chair.
“As you wish,” Diederick said.
“You’re a good man,” Friedrich said, slapping him on the back before he hurried after Cinderella and his men.
He caught up with them when they made a turn, heading towards the Trieux Royal Library.
“Down this road we have—,” Cinderella said.
“Isn’t this a sight,” Friedrich said, darting in front of them. “My Lady Love and my underlings,” he said, glowering at his men.
They sheepishly scuffed their boots on the ground but said nothing.
“Good afternoon, Friedrich. Do you ever work? I’m starting to suspect you don’t,” Cinderella said.
Friedrich nonchalantly adjusted his eye patch. “I thought we agreed you were finished with historical tours.”
“Yes, perhaps. But these fine gentlemen are soldiers. Your soldiers. I couldn’t be safer anywhere else than I am with them. And besides, they asked so sweetly. Marie said they saw the sign in one of Armel’s stores and asked for a tour with all due niceties and polish.”
Friedrich looked from Cinderella to his men. “And the lot of you were filled with the sudden thirst for history lessons, I suppose?”
Gustav nodded passionately. “Yes, sir,” he said. “We wanted to experience what you so deeply enjoyed on your tours with Lady Lacreux.”
Another soldier smacked the back of Gustav’s head.
“What he means to say,” Ivo drawled. “Is he never knew Erlauf history was entrenched so deeply in Trieux.”
The rest of the tour attendees nodded in agreement with Ivo.
Friedrich sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“He’s being selfish by trying to keep all this historical knowledge to himself,” Cinderella murmured.
“I heard that,” Friedrich said.
“You were meant to,” Cinderella said with a smile as sweet as fresh baked pastries.
“I suppose even if I tried to stop this, you would not stand for it?” Friedrich asked.
“I would want them to get their money’s worth, else I would feel terrible,” Cinderella said.
Friedrich studied his men with his stoniest look. Kurt and Ivo stood strong, but Gustav and a few others shivered. “Just this once,” he said to them. “Never again. Tell anyone back at camp with the same harebrained scheme: NO.”
“Yes, sir,” his men said, saluting him.
“Well then, let us continue. As I was saying, down this road one may find the historical building of Volognex.”
“Oohhhh,” Gustav said in appreciation.
“Quite so. It is famous because…,” Cinderella’s voice trailed out of hearing range as the soldiers trailed after her like a herd of attentive cows.
Friedrich adjusted his hat. “I want them to like her. I want her to like them,” he repeated to himself. He groaned as he headed back to his friends. “Who am I kidding? Diederick is right. She is a firecracker.”