“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.