Cinderella turned around to face Friedrich. He wore a band of red cloth tied over both his eyepatch and his eye, but he was still handsome and alarmingly roguish in his military uniform with his crown fixed on his head instead of his usual hat. “Your lady’s maids tell me you have lost all sense of propriety, and I am to fix you without setting eye on you,” he teased.
“You’ve been helping for a long time. Even before you decided to marry me,” Cinderella said.
“I didn’t buy everything, just the items Von Beiler said you seemed to place special value on,” Friedrich said, his voice soft but serious.
“It was only because I sold these items that Aveyron survived the first few months after my father’s death,” Cinderella said, looking at the familiar furniture pieces and decorations. “Why did you help me?”
“When Mother hit you with the inheritance tax, you could have easily dismissed servants. Instead, you sold things. Von Beiler told me you sold your favorite horse and sobbed while it was led away. Someone who cares that much for the people they are responsible for deserves help.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?
Friedrich shrugged. “I wanted to surprise you with all your furniture in our new rooms.”
Cinderella stood at Friedrich’s side and leaned into him. “I am so grateful for you, Friedrich. And I’m sorry I ever thought wrong of you.”
Friedrich blindly patted Cinderella before he was able to curl an arm around her waist. “You didn’t know any better, Pet. I only wish I could have done more—though I suppose if I had you would be dealing with even more monetary issues now.”
“It is not as bad as you think. Once I finish selling off the tacky Trieux goods, we should be in a fine position. It was sheer luck Princess Elise of Arcainia agreed to take that ghastly throne in the ballroom as part of our payments.”
“She has been exceedingly generous since her brothers are no longer birds,” Friedrich agreed, getting a giggle out of Cinderella.
They were silent for a few moments, enjoying the quiet and each other’s presence.
Cinderella sighed. “I suppose we should make our way to the ceremony?”
“That would probably be for the best,” Friedrich agreed. “I’ll go first. I will see you there?”
“Of course.”
“Good, just double checking. Until then,” Friedrich said, fumbling for Cinderella’s bare hand before he kissed it. “She is all yours, ladies,” Friedrich said, joining the lady’s maids in the hallway before pulling off the blindfold.
“Your Grace,” the head lady’s maid said, planting her fists on her hips. “It is good you are concerned for the welfare of this nation, and it is very admirable that you push yourself to learn for our sake. But you must stop for the rest of today.”
Cinderella sighed in defeat. “As you wish. Margrit, there’s no reason for you to waste your time with me. I believe Julien is saving a seat for you, yes? You may as well join him,” Cinderella said.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Margrit curtsied.
“Be sure to sit on my side of the cathedral!” Cinderella called after her secretary.
“Why does the side matter, Your Grace?” a lady’s maid asked, bribing Cinderella from Friedrich’s rooms with the question.
“Does Erlauf not follow the tradition where one side is meant to be the bride’s family and friends, and the other side the groom’s?” Cinderella asked.
“No, that is an Erlauf tradition as well.”
“Ah, well, that is why. I fear my side will be dreadfully empty, as most of my family is gone, and the majority of those whom I invited are not the type to attend—besides the other Trieux nobles of course,” Cinderella gloomily said.
She had invited all of her servants from Aveyron, but none of them would commit to coming. They were probably counting down the days until their untraditional mistress would be out of their hair.
The lady’s maids exchanged glances, but none of them said a word as they bustled Cinderella down the hallway.
When they finally reached the cathedral door—the Trieux royals were apparently so lazy that when designing the palace, they smacked a cathedral in the thick of it so they wouldn’t have to leave their comfort for church—Cinderella could hear the music creep through the doors.
A lady’s maid handed her a bouquet of white roses—a gift from Prince Severin and Princess Elle of Loire (as flowers were hard to come by in the middle of winter, Cinderella had no idea where they procured them)—and adjusted her veil.
Cinderella drew her shoulders back and took a deep breath before the door was pushed open.
Sure enough, Cinderella’s side was only half-filled—a stark contrast to Friedrich’s side, where military officers, governmental employees, and various lords and ladies were packed in like sellers in a market.