by Shea, K. M.
“So, your answer…?” Friedrich asked.
“Yes!” Cinderella laughed before throwing her arms around him.
Friedrich released the deep breath he’d been holding. “I am so glad,” he said. “I didn’t even have to use my bribe.”
Cinderella laughed.
“Mother and Johann cannot wait to meet you. I think you will get on with mother—I hope you hate Johann. He’s a brat,” Friedrich savagely said, running his fingers through Cinderella’s hair.
“And your Father?”
“You already met him. You must have impressed him considerably. He said if I bungled this, he was going to demote me.”
“When did I meet your Father?” Cinderella frowned, pulling back from the hug.
“During the ball. He was the third man to dance with you. The middle-aged military chap,” Friedrich said.
Cinderella’s eyes widened.
“How rude of me. I almost forgot,” Friedrich said before presenting Cinderella with the basket.
Inside the basket sat a glass slipper, and nestled in the shoe’s toe, a sparkling ring. “I made the basket myself,” Friedrich added, removing the ring from the shoe before sliding it over Cinderella’s finger.
On closer inspection, Cinderella gulped. The ring was a large ruby with the Erlauf insignia etched into the surface. It seemed very likely that it was a Crown Jewel.
When Cinderella looked up, Friedrich wore the same smug, smarmy smile he occasionally wore when he first started visiting her stand.
“You have been planning this for a long time, haven’t you?” she asked.
“You have no idea,” Friedrich said with his roguish grin. “About half of the concerns your market friends had for you were quite valid.”
“Come now, you are more honorable than they said you were.”
“Only just so,” Friedrich said, sliding his hand down Cinderella’s ankle before he slipped the glass slipper on her foot. “But it doesn’t matter. I have found my queen. Although… it does raise an important question.”
“Yes?”
“We have both admitted we love each other.”
“Yes?”
“And we’re engaged.”
“Yes?”
“May I finally kiss you?” Friedrich said in a tone of long suffering.
Cinderella laughed so hard Friedrich finally stood up rather than remain crouching on the ground.
“Are you done?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Then why are you still laughing?”
“No, yes!”
Friedrich blinked before he grasped what she meant. With a swoop he picked up Cinderella and set her on her feet. He slid one hand up her jawline and the other around her waist, pulling her close before he leaned over and kissed her.
Kissing Friedrich was like getting caught in a summer storm. It was beautiful and perhaps a little terrifying and overwhelming. She didn’t think she could have felt more shocked and alive if the skies opened up and dumped buckets of torrential rains on her. Cinderella felt treasured in Friedrich’s arms, pulled so tight against his chest she could feel the beat of his heart. The hair on the back of her neck prickled—as it did whenever a lightning strike was within a mile from Aveyron—and, oddly enough, she felt peace.
“Definitely worth the wait,” Cinderella pronounced, a little breathlessly, when they were finished.
“Yes,” Friedrich said, sliding an arm across Cinderella’s back. “Steel yourself; the audience will demand to know how it went.”
“How on earth did you get your soldiers to help so much with this whole thing, anyway?”
“Truthfully it was more difficult persuading them to leave you alone. My men know who I am. Naturally they were curious about you. You won them over without any help on my end—which is a good thing. It would not bode well if the Army didn’t accept you.”
“How can they accept me if they do not even know me? I have only met soldiers from your regiment.”
“Word travels fast in the Army, and no one keeps any news to themselves,” Friedrich said as he guided Cinderella out of the gardens and straight into a scene from a tavern.
The soldiers had uncovered the cargo of a second wagon—which was composed entirely of beer and mead.
“Kurt! You’re on duty!” Friedrich shouted over the happy cheers when the soldiers caught sight of Friedrich and Cinderella.
“That’s the thing, sir,” Gustav, who was standing with Kurt and a freshly poured pint. “None of us are. We’re all here off duty—we wanted to see how this would turn out.”
Friedrich blinked. “Kurt! You said General Harbach sent you—,”
“We lied,” Kurt said.
“Cheers,” Tobias, the soldier who shot the dark mage, said as he raised a tankard in the air.
Friedrich groaned. “This is some way to convince you of my administrative capabilities,” he said.
“Friedrich?”
“What?”
Cinderella giggled and leaned in. “I love you,” she said before kissing him soundly.
The soldiers roared even louder, hooting at their commanding officer and his lady love.
“What is this?” Cinderella asked, staring at the beautiful, elaborate dress hanging in her armoire. Cinderella felt a moment of panic. “Jeanne, I didn’t order any dresses to be made!” She might be engaged to a prince of Erlauf, but that did nothing to change her monetary state until they were married. She couldn’t afford such a lavish clothing item.
“It is from Colonel Friedrich, Mademoiselle,” Jeanne said, securing the drapes in Cinderella’s bedroom.
Cinderella frowned and caressed the fabric, grimacing when the tough skin of her fingers scraped the soft fabric. “What for?”
“I would assume it is for your presentation to Queen Freja this evening,” Jeanne said.
“…What?”
“The presentation?”
“No, not that. It’s…nothing,” Cinderella said, looking at the dress.
“He sent a matching jewelry set as well,” Jeanne said, indicating to a velvet box that rested on Cinderella’s bed.
Cinderella looked from the box to the dress. She caught sight of herself in the cracked mirror positioned across the room—one of the few mirrors retained in Aveyron because the fissure reduced its worth to copper pennies.
Cinderella’s reflection stared back at her. She wore Friedrich’s dragon necklace openly, sitting on the drab cloth of her servant clothes.
“Do you think he is ashamed of me?” Cinderella asked.
“It is not my place to say, Mademoiselle.”
“Jeanne, please.”
Jeanne pursed her lips. “I would find it hard to believe so, Mademoiselle. Particularly when one considers how he carries on.”
Cinderella nodded. “Thank you. Perhaps he means to protect me from his mother.”
Jeanne’s silence was heavy with dislike, and Cinderella cocked her head as she studied the dress.
“No,” Cinderella said, closing the door to her armoire.
“No, Mademoiselle?”
“No, I will not wear the dress. Queen Freja had best know who she’s letting into the family. I don’t care if I’m as out of place as a black sheep. I go in this,” Cinderella savagely said, jabbing a finger at her fractured reflection.
“As you wish, Mademoiselle,” Jeanne said. Her words were placid, but Cinderella thought she detected just a hint of pride in them.
Cinderella arrived at the palace, late, in a carriage Friedrich sent to pick her up. The footman nor the driver gave her choice of clothing so much a second glance, but the closer they drew to the Palace, the more aware Cinderella was of the declaration her plain clothes made.
She was about to meet Queen Freja, Friedrich’s mother and the ruler of the country. I don’t want to antagonize her…but I will not be made into a pretty Trieux doll that stands at Friedrich’s side. She was wrong to tax Aveyron, to tax Trieux so much. I will not pretend otherwise, Cinde
rella thought before she popped out of the carriage.
A butler escorted Cinderella through the palace. Cinderella’s heart pounded in her throat when the butler stopped in front of a set of doors and threw them open.
“Duchess Lacreux,” he announced, stepping aside and bowing.
The room—a parlor—was filled with low-pitched murmurings. The whispers fell silent when Cinderella stepped forward, entering the light of the fire.
Queen Freja stood, her face cold and unmoving as granite. Prince Johann was with her, covering his mouth with his jacket sleeve to hide his grin and muffle his laugh. The consort—Commander Lehn—froze in the middle of standing up.
Only Friedrich reacted as if nothing was wrong. “Cinderella, I’m glad you are finally here. I was almost ready to dispatch a squad to track you down,” he said, strolling up to her side.
“I was detained,” Cinderella said.
“What, was a cow about to calf?” Prince Johann asked.
“Johann,” Queen Freja said, her voice sharp.
Cinderella gave the younger prince her most brilliant smile. “I would be the last person my servants would call upon for such a situation, for I am rather ignorant in that area,” she said, taking Friedrich’s arm. “It seems, though, you have some knowledge of the act?”
“Lady Lacreux, how good it is to see you again,” Commander Lehn said before his son could reply, bowing when Cinderella and Friedrich approached the rest of the family.
Cinderella swallowed as she met Queen Freja’s dark eyes, preparing herself for the verbal war that was likely to commence. This was it. This was her first meeting with the loathed Queen Freja, the woman Cinderella itched to shake and yell at for years. And she was marrying this woman’s son.
“Cinderella, I apologize.”
Cinderella blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“I have wronged you,” Queen Freja said. “I singled out Trieux nobles—in particular I singled out you, to tax in order to make up for the country’s deficit. It was ignoble and unforgiveable as a monarch acquainting herself with her new subjects.”
Cinderella opened and closed her mouth, baffled beyond words.
“I have pushed you and your compatriots to the brink out of sheer spite. It pains me to admit it, but I have done a poor job of ruling Trieux. I ask that you would forgive us, forgive me,” Queen Freja said, bowing her head.
All of Cinderella’s anger, hatred, and stored words to shout were gone. As the ultimate ruler of a country, it would be difficult to tell a seventeen-year-old Trieux girl she behaved wrongly.
When Cinderella’s father accepted the rules and regulations Erlauf threw at them after the war, Cinderella thought he was afraid for their lives. But now, Cinderella understood why he reacted without hate. No matter what he left behind, Cinderella had no doubts of her Father’s heart, because of the words he spoke.
“My Father, a kind and noble man, once told me nobody wins in a war,” Cinderella said, finding her voice. “I think I finally, fully understand what he meant. Both Trieux and Erlauf have committed transgressions. I accept your apology, and I offer my forgiveness, if you will look past the pain my country has caused you, My Queen.”
Queen Freja smiled with her eyes. “I am glad Friedrich chose you,” she said, her voice low and melodic.
Friedrich and Cinderella shared a look. “I knew you would be,” he said, his voice smug as he slid an arm around Cinderella and squeezed her.
The royal family laughed.
“…you mentioned a deficit?” Cinderella asked to cover up some of her embarrassment.
“To finance the war, we took a loan from Arcainia—a large obligation we have scrambled to fulfill. All of your tax money went straight to Arcainia to pay back what we owe,” Friedrich said. “I’m sorry, Pet, but the kingdom you are about to become Princess over is in debt.”
Cinderella offered the royal family a weak smile. “If I know anything,” she said, “It is debt and deficits.”
“Cinderella, Friedrich has hogged you for entirely too long. Please, tell me about yourself. What are your likes and dislikes?” Commander Lehn said, his kind smile putting Cinderella at ease. “Besides food,” he teased.
Cinderella laughed. “Food is certainly something I deeply enjoy. I liked horseback riding, although I cannot boast of much skill in that area. Trade interests me, as do current events,” Cinderella said.
Johann raised an eyebrow. “So you are a budding scholar?” he asked. “Ouch,” he said when Friedrich kicked him in the back of the knee.
“Unfortunately not. I have an abundance of ignorance,” Cinderella sighed.
“What do you mean?” Commander Lehn asked.
“When I was a girl, I was schooled in womanly subjects,” Cinderella groused. “Arts, literature, history, dancing, and the like. I wish I had a better grasp on things like politics, economics, trade, and farming.”
“If you are truly interested in furthering your knowledge, I can arrange for a tutor,” Queen Freja said. “What?” she said when Friedrich and Johann stared at her. “She is to be my successor; the more knowledgeable she is, the better. Lord Diederick already offered to school her in financing and budgeting.”
Friedrich looked down at Cinderella and said, “Don’t we have any female tutors?”
Cinderella rolled her eyes. “Fred.”
“Friedrich told me of a conversation you had with him in which you said Trieux government was more open with information. Would you care to come for tea tomorrow and discuss the concept?” Queen Freja asked.
“I would be honored and delighted, My Queen.”
“Please, call me Freja. In several months, you will be my daughter.”
“Thank you, Freja,” Cinderella said before she caught a glance of Friedrich’s expression. “What?”
Friedrich frowned. “I hoped you two would get along, but I cannot say I wanted you to bond this well.”
Cinderella blinked.“Why not?”
“Do not listen to him, Cinderella; he is only jealous. Now that he has successfully won you over, he must actually return to his duties and stop kicking up his heels and using his men like a circus master. General Harbach looks forward to his full-time return,” Commander Lehn said, chuckling at the thought.
“I knew it. I knew you were skipping out on work. No officer has that much time on their hands,” Cinderella said.
Friedrich shifted his gaze to his parents. “When are you leaving Werra again?”
“Friedrich, don’t be silly. You are going to get married soon; we cannot leave now,” Queen Freja said.
Friedrich looked to his brother. “At least you’re leaving, right?”
“I would love to, but mother has me chained to her,” Johann dryly said.
“Blast,” Friedrich muttered.
“Think of it this way, son. We will help ease your lovely bride into her new role,” Commander Lehn said.
“Speaking of which, I would like to address this debt you mentioned. How much is it?” Cinderella asked.
“Lord Diederick has the current estimate. After dinner, we can pay a social call to his offices,” Queen Freja said.
“Wait a moment, about those female tutors,” Friedrich said, jumping into the conversation.
As Cinderella sat down with Queen Freja and Friedrich, she thought of how nice it would be to have a family again. She would be stupid to think she wouldn’t have disagreements with Queen Freja, Friedrich, or the rest of the royal Erlauf family in the future. But Cinderella was confident they would work through the arguments. After all, nobody wins in a war, but everyone triumphs in the face of love and forgiveness.
Epilogue
“…‘proposed road improvements will reduce the current transportation time and provide safer, less hazardous trade routes’— Margrit, deny this petition. Please make a note on it that Erlauf doesn’t have much of a trade route because they lack goods, not because of poor road conditions. Before I stoop to spend money on the roads, they must f
irst come up with an export or crop other countries actually want. And no, flowers do not count,” Cinderella said, pacing up and down the palace hall. She paused long enough to pass the petition off to one of her secretaries—who also happened to be Julien Rosseux’s fiancée.
“Flowers do not count….Done,” Margrit said, her quill flashing as she scrawled on the paper.
“Thank you. May I have the next petition?” Cinderella asked, fussing with the train of her white dress.
“You have reviewed all the petitions we brought with us today.”
“Really? Hm. Did you happen to bring Fostering Economic Wealth through Animal Husbandry?” Cinderella asked.
“I did,” Margrit said, digging a large book out of a satchel that hung from her shoulder.
“You are incredible, Margrit.”
“Thank you, Your Grace. I am happy to be of service,” Margrit said, her voice warm with affection.
“Ahem.”
Cinderella and Margrit guiltily looked to the flock of lady’s maids who trailed behind them.
The head lady’s maid—a formidable woman dressed with clothes starched so heavily, they would have stood upright without her body to support them—shook her head.
“Oh, but I just—,” Cinderella started.
The head lady’s maid shook her head again. “You will ruin your dress, Your Grace.”
Cinderella impatiently pushed a scarlet curl out of her face. “It is only a book. It’s not an animal,” she said moving her skirts to cover the velvet brown mouse that wore a tiny belled collar and climbed on her glass slipper with great familiarity.
“No,” the head lady’s maid said.
“I could read it to you, if you like, Your Grace,” Margrit suggested.
Cinderella stooped in relief. “Would you?”
“Certainly, Your Grace.”
