“I wanted to see you,” Julien said. He looked handsome in the morning light with dove gray breeches, a simple white shirt, and black vest. Typically he wore something more fashionable, but the simplicity of the outfit seemed to fit him better.
“I am honored and delighted,” Cinderella said, leading him around the perimeter of the chateau. “How is your sister?”
“She is well. She was disappointed she did not get to see you beard Lady Feautre.”
Cinderella grinned. “Cerise is a girl after my heart.”
“She seems to think so too,” Julien chuckled.
They reached the chateau’s entrance, but Julien seemed oddly unwilling to go inside. “Cinderella,” he said, looking at her with unusual directness. “My family does not know I am calling on you today.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, they think I have gone for a long ride. A very long ride.”
“I see. Then you have something you wish to discuss,” Cinderella said, knitting her fingers together and standing with picturesque elegance—as she was trained to stand what felt like a lifetime ago, before the war.
“I am aware it is not entirely polite but…I felt you might appreciate a frank discussion.”
“Ah,” Cinderella knowingly said. “Marriage?”
Julien nodded and looked awkward.
Cinderella smiled, taking pity on the young man. “Then let us walk as we talk,” she suggested.
Julien’s shoulders drooped in relief before he offered her his arm.
Cinderella took it, and the two walked across the picturesque lawn, ignoring the loose goats that grazed there.
“What about marriage do you wish to discuss?” Cinderella asked.
“I wanted to see if my assumption is correct, and you will not be marrying Marcus Girard,” Julien said. “It seemed at the dinner party you made up your mind…”
Cinderella sucked in a deep breath of air. “You assumed correctly. I don’t think…Marcus is young, and I suspect if we leave him alone he will seek out Cerise’s hand.”
“So your only option, then, is me,” Julien said.
Cinderella looked up at the young nobleman and was struck by a sudden thought. “Julien, do you want to marry me?”
Julien blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“You cannot possibly love me, although I flatter myself in thinking you are fond of me. Do you want to be tied to me for the rest of your life?”
Julien hesitated. “I am fond of you, and I feel we can learn to be happy.”
“That does not answer my question,” Cinderella said as they stopped and faced each other under the shade of a giant oak tree.
“Out of all the available girls of Trieux noble lineage, you are the one I prefer and prize. Yes, perhaps we do not love each other now, but there are things about you I admire…” Julien trailed off, cowed into silence by Cinderella’s narrowed but not unkind gaze.
Cinderella recognized the careful words that she, too, had dwelled on the past few weeks. “There’s a commoner you love, isn’t there?” Cinderella said Julien gawked.
“You’ve been very careful to say I am your favored choice out of all suitable. There is nothing wrong with that—I agree with you, actually. However, there are many, many other girls in Werra, much less in the country, who would not meet your parents’ requirements but are still perfectly lovely.”
Julien was incapable of speech and made a gurgling sound.
Cinderella patted Julien on the arm. “What is her name?”
“Margrit.”
It took all of Cinderella’s control to keep from gaping. “She is from Erlauf?” Cinderella said, recognizing the harsher syllable patterns of the tyrant country.
“Her father is a secretary for the queen. I met her at the palace,” Julien said. “She is charming and sweet. Her laugh is like the chiming of a bell,” Julien said, his voice wistful.
“And you love her.”
Julien hesitated. “Yes. But I am a man of honor. When we marry, I will see her no more,” he firmly said.
“Why would you marry me when you love another?”
“My parents know nothing of her, and my father would disinherit me if he heard of it. The only reason he still presses me to marry you—in spite of your association with Erlauf soldiers—is to keep our bloodlines pristine.”
“Julien, a marriage based on your parents’ desires will be wretched,” Cinderella said.
Julien shrugged. “Even if they did not force me to, I would still choose you,” he said, his layers of good manners fading to honesty. “You are alone, and you cannot hold on to Aveyron much longer. I cannot stand by and watch you fail. If it is in my power to aid you, I will. Unfortunately, all I can do is offer to marry you.”
Cinderella stared at Julien, struck by the nobility of his soul. He would put aside his personal desires and marry her just because she was in trouble.
Cinderella smiled at Julien, affection flowing from her, making Julien aware of what a beauty Cinderella was beneath the servant’s uniform and the dirt.
“You are a good man, Julien,” Cinderella said, resting her hands on Julien’s. “I thank you for your selfless offer.”