“Do you suppose I go inside?” she asked them.
No response.
Report to me everything about the duchess,the Grand Duke had instructed.
Cinderella bit her lip. That didn’t strike her as a typical task given to royal attendants.
Gathering her courage, she took the gilded knocker and tapped softly. Then she clasped the knob and turned, entering the duchess’s apartments as quietly as she could.
“That was fast,” rasped a voice, startling Cinderella. “I take it you’re my next victim?”
Before her, the Duchess of Orlanne sat at her writing desk. A coil of salt-and-pepper hair gathered at her nape, punctuated by emerald and amethyst hairpins that matched her violet gown and its green trimming. Her face didn’t seem to match the refinery of her garments; it was like a quill, long and narrow, with gray eyes as sharp as polished nibs.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace,” said Cinderella, bowing. “I did—”
“Iamsorry,Your Highness,” corrected the duchess. “I’m a member of the royal family, unlike Ferdinand.” She snapped her book closed and harrumphed. “They send me a girl who doesn’t even know how to address me properly. How like George. How absent-minded!”
Venturing deeper into the sitting room, Cinderella was about to repeat her apology when the duchess grabbed the walking stick beside her desk and rose.
“Stay off the rug,” the king’s sister barked. She wrinkled her nose at Cinderella, her sharp eyes taking in the cuts on her hands, the bruises on her temples hidden under her ill-fitting wig. “You smell dirty. Have you been out in the rain?”
Heat rushed to Cinderella’s cheeks. “There was a storm last night, Your Highness, and I only—”
“Stop.” The duchess raised a gloved hand. “I don’t want to hear any more. You are dismissed.”
Cinderella bit her lip to keep it from trembling. Madame Irmina had warned her that she wouldn’t last in the palace. But even she must have expected her to last more than five minutes.
“On your way out, you may tell whoever thought you fit to attend me to turn in their resignation as well.”
“But, Your Highness—”
“Out, I said. Can you not hear?” The duchess reached toward the nearest table, picking up a silver call bell and muttering, “Wait until I get my hands on George. Does he think this is some sort of practical joke? How dare his staff send me a servant who—”
“Oh, you mustn’t blame Madame Irmina!” Cinderella cried.
“What was that?”
She drew a breath. “It wasn’t her fault. Or the king’s.”
The duchess clamped the bell in her palm, suffocating its clang. “Of course it wasn’t my brother’s fault. Do you think he has time to oversee the hiring of servants? Ferdinand manages the royal retainers.”
“Please don’t dismiss anyone because of me,” Cinderella said quietly. “I’ll leave now, so Madame Irmina can send you a new girl right away.” She gave a despondent curtsy, then turned for the door.
“Wait. I’ve changed my mind.” The duchess pounded her walking stick on the ground, a cue Cinderella did not understand. “Well, don’t be a mouse. Come here and let me take a look at you.”
Trying to hide her confusion and careful to avoid stepping on the carpets, Cinderella traced back toward the duchess.
“Hmm,” said the king’s sister, considering. “Your dress is a size too large, and your wig—impossible! It’s practically slipping off your head.” The duchess let out a sigh. “I suppose your smell isn’tthatoffensive. See to it that you bathe tonight. Thoroughly, is that clear?”
“Oh, yes, ma’am—”
“Shush. I am not finished. I should be insulted that my attendant has little experience in the palace, but I supposed it would be Ferdinand’s way to find yet more petty ways to slight me.” Duchess Genevieve glowered at her. “He sent you specifically to insult me, didn’t he? Well, I will not give him the satisfaction of sending you back.”
The duchess circled Cinderella, studying her with a frown. “You’re a rather pretty girl, aren’t you? Bright-eyed, cheery, and earnest-looking. Clearly an inexperienced member of the royal household. Don’t expect that to make me like you more. Don’t expect that to make metrustyou, either. But it appears I don’t have a choice but to keep you, do I? Lunch is in an hour, and I need assistance dressing for the occasion.”
Her thin brows knit together skeptically. “You do know how to dress a lady, don’t you? Heavens, judging by your own outfit I am not sure I want to know the answer to that question.”
Cinderella hesitated. She had fitted her stepsisters into their fine clothes plenty of times, but a duchess’s gowns would be far more elegant and elaborate than anything Drizella or Anastasia ever wore.
