“You must be confused, Monsieur,” she said sweetly.
“The king of France is never confused, Madame,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument. “If I may speak to the lady in question, I am sure we can clear up your confusion.”
Lady Catherine glanced at me. “The lady in question is right in front of you and can answer anytime. I, for one, would very much like for her to clear things up.”
Lord Bernard turned to me and raised his eyebrows. Then he did the most extraordinary thing. Even though I was wearing a shabby work dress and apron stained with ashes, he bowed respectfully. “Lady Cendrillon de Louvois, I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”
I curtsied again. “And I yours, Lord Bernard.”
My stomach roiled as I waited to see Lady Catherine’s reaction. Severine and Alexandre were silent, their eyes bouncing back and forth between the three of us.
“I beg your pardon, mademoiselle,” said Lord Bernard, bowing once more. Then he turned to Lady Catherine and pulled a letter from his justaucorps. “This is a letter from the king. It explains everything,” he said, handing the letter to her.
It took her only a moment to read the letter. When she finished, she set it down on the table and slowly rose from her chair. But she didn’t address Lord Bernard. Instead, she looked at me and smiled. It was a beautiful smile, one that lit up her entire face. It sent a chill running down my spine.
“I didn’t realize the dauphin’s mysterious missing maiden was living under my own roof. How exciting! You should have found us at the ball. We would have been most pleased to see you,” she said. “Lord Bernard, do you mind giving us a moment?”
“Certainly, Madame,” he said. “I shall repair to the front room.”
When Lord Bernard had left us alone, Lady Catherine turned to me, and her glare could turn sailors into stone. “You!” she seethed. “You were there!”
I cringed, readying myself for the blow that was sure to come.
“Wait. Wait!” Severine said, holding her hands up in the air like a queen commanding her court. “Are you saying that Cendrillon is the mystery girl? That Lady Cinder is Cendrillon? You must be joking.”
Alexandre tried to shush her, leaning over to whisper in her ear, but Severine brushed her off as her volume increased with each word. “That’s impossible. The dauphin would never be interested in someone like her. She was here last night anyway. There’s no way she could have made it to Versailles on her own. This is all a lie. The brat is making it up! She has to be. Mère—”
“Shut up, Severine. I am trying to think!” her mother said.
I’d never heard Lady Catherine speak so sharply to her golden child. Even Severine was surprised. She slumped back in her seat with a pout and crossed her arms. Alexandre tried to whisper something again, but Severine turned her face away.
“How did you get to the ball, Cendrillon?” Lady Catherine asked, sitting down once more and fixing her pale blue eyes on me.
“When the carriage didn’t come back for me, I did not think I would be able to attend. But then Papa’s friend Lady Françoise came calling. When she realized that I had been left behind, she was kind enough to escort me herself.”
“I see,” said Lady Catherine, coolly assessing the situation. She leaned back on the velvet chair and adjusted her skirts.
There was a knock on the dining room door, and Lord Bernard appeared. “I do apologize, Madame, but I still need to speak to Lady Cendrillon.”
“By all means,” she said.
“The topic of Lady Françoise de la Valliere is the other order of business that I have to address with you, mademoiselle,” Lord Bernard said, clasping his hands together and taking a few steps toward me. His face was gentle and pitying. Why? My hands began to tremble. What did he have to pity me about?
“Lady Françoise?” I asked, starting to panic. “What of her?”
“I am unaccustomed to being the bearer of bad news, but the king wished for me to tell you. Lady Françoise passed away last night. Please allow me to offer both my own condolences as well as those of the king. He understands that you two were quite close.”
I stared at Lord Bernard. The words coming out of his mouth made no sense. They were wrong. Wrong and untrue. My marraine couldn’t be dead. I’d just seen her last night. She was coming to rescue me. Today. Because this couldn’t be happening. Not again.
“Oh, the poor dear. What did she die of?” Lady Catherine asked, and to her credit she managed to keep the glee out of her voice.
“Consumption, Madame. It was a long illness; one she’d been battling for a little over a year. She met with physicians in England to no avail. Unfortunately, she collapsed after the ball last night, the illness finally taking hold. There was nothing to be done.”
Their voices were muffled, as if bits of cloth were stuffed in my ears. My body was numb. I couldn’t even tell if I was still standing, or if I’d fallen to the floor in a jumble of limp limbs. There was no one left to look after me. Maman was gone. Papa was gone. And now Lady Françoise was gone, just when I’d finally found her. I was never going to see her again. Why wasn’t I crying? I should have been crying. Everyone who ever loved or cared about me was dead.
“I am very sorry, mademoiselle,” Lord Bernard said to me. “The funeral will be held in a week. The king understands that you will miss some of the courtship activities, and they have rescheduled the opening so you may attend.” With that, he gave us his leave.
“Come here,” said Lady Catherine, enveloping me in an embrace. But her kindness was all a façade. “You’re not going to participate in the competition. Did you hear me, Cendrillon? You are not going to participate in the competition,” she whispered.
I pulled away. I was wrong. There was still someone who loved me living right under this roof.
Me.
I would take care of myself now that I was all I had left. And I could feel something pooling deep in my gut: resolve.
“No,” I said out loud, raising my ash-covered face to the light. I was dressed in rags and smelled like the kitchen, but I was still a lady.
“Excuse me?”
“I will compete.”
The smile dropped from my stepmother’s face.
“In case you’ve forgotten, you’re living in my house. I feed you, I clothe you, I give you a space to sleep. My word is law in this château,” my stepmother sneered.
“Does the word of the king not trump yours, even in this château? He has ordered me to participate, and I will participate.” The sound of my voice scared me, flat and emotionless. “You cannot keep me here. I’ll walk to the palace if I have to. If you try to lock me up, someone will come looking for me. Perhaps then the king will have your head for interfering in the business of the court.”