“I’m sorry, Your Grace,” said Cinderella, bowing. “I did—”
“I am sorry, 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’t that offensive. 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 me trust you, 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.
“I don’t know, ma’am,” she replied truthfully.
“Don’t know?”
“I have never served a duchess before.”
“You don’t say,” said the king’s sister with a scoff. “You had better learn quickly. Otherwise, you will not be staying past lunch.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Unless I address you, you are a statue,” continued the duchess, taking on an instructional tone. “All servants of the palace are to be invisible. Not to be seen, heard, or even noticed. Hear me—I do not intend on being made an embarrassment of in my brother’s court.”
“I understand.”
“Good.” The duchess harrumphed again, then strode into her bedchamber to retrieve the fur stole draped over the chair. “What do you think of this?”
“That?” Cinderella stared at the stole and tried not to wrinkle her nose. She might not be knowledgeable about the latest fashions at court, but it didn’t take much of an eye to tell it was the most hideous thing she’d ever seen.
“Out with it, girl.”
“If I may be honest, Your Highness . . . it is not very flattering on you. I would suggest a simple cape—perhaps an emerald green to match the trimming on your gown—instead.”
Duchess Genevieve’s thin lips curved in surprise. “It isn’t, is it? Funny that Lady Alarna should say it suits me perfectly. Yet that’s the thing with my brother’s court. Everyone says what you want to hear.”
She tossed the stole onto her bed and cast a glance at the clock. “We’ll need an entirely new ensemble, then. If that makes me late for lunch, so be it. My brother can wait. Women are always waiting on men—let it be the other way around for a change.”
Cinderella tilted her head, surprised that the duchess should act so impertinent toward the king. But she didn’t question it. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I should have at least three girls waiting on me,” the duchess said testily as Cinderella helped her select a new outfit. “Short on staff, indeed.” She fluttered her handkerchief at the swarms of maids outside the window skittering across the royal lawn. “What do you think they’re all doing?”
Cinderella wasn’t sure whether she was supposed to answer. “They’re on their way inside, ma’am. To do the dusting, and polishing, and sweeping, and—”
“Heaven knows what else,” the duchess interrupted. “The chandeliers don’t need to be cleaned twice a day, and the windows certainly don’t need to be wiped every hour.” Her gaze swept across her chambers and she crossed her arms. “My desk could use a better dusting, though. You missed a button, girl.”
Cinderella bit her lower lip. It wasn’t like her to be so careless. After years of working under her stepmother’s careful scrutiny, she had learned to be quick yet efficient. Her nerves were failing her.
“Enough,” the duchess said. “I can finish the rest myself. Go away.”
Cinderella blinked. “Pardon?”
“What don’t you understand, girl?” the king’s sister huffed. “I’m off to lunch and I do not want some grubby young girl I’ve barely met scrounging around my chambers, so be off. And I don’t mean wandering off for the rest of the day. I can barely stand longer than an hour’s lunch with George, and I have a perfect internal clock. If you are not back before I’m finished, I will have no choice but to send you back for good.”