Ardennia: The Unlikely Story of Cinderella's Prince
Chapter 4

Lenore

King Charles’ castle was more than a fortification; it was a home to the royal family and the functioning capital of Ardennia. Queen Bernadette had tastefully refurbished the domestic quarters with tapestries and rugs that covered the floors and walls, making the rooms warm and cozy in winter. She also had brought in more elegant furniture to which Charles eventually became accustomed. The domestic quarters included bedrooms in the west tower accessible by a winding staircase, a great hall that was connected to the west tower by a small passageway and a discretely located garderobe where family members could excrete their bodily waste. Adjacent to the living quarters were the throne room and the banquet hall where Henry had thrown up during the siege.

The rest of the castle consisted of a grand ballroom, guest rooms, servant quarters, a kitchen, laundry works, the dungeon, stables, a granary, the treasury, a smithy, a carpenter’s shop, a well, a small church and cemetery, a green space, the battlements, the gatehouse at the front of the castle, the rear gate, the east tower, the keep, a common latrine, a barracks and a modest size council chamber where the Queen now sat with Lord Phillip, Friar Bede and the mint master, who had cut his teeth at the Arles Mint that France had established a few years ago. His name was Protus.

“Protus, how are things proceeding in Ligny?” asked the Queen.

“We have finished the foundry and fashioned the stamp to imprint the King’s and the Count’s likenesses,” said Protus.

“So you are ready to melt bullion and press coins,” the Queen said.

“Yes.”

“And the mint is secure?” asked Lord Phillip.

“Yes, we have a vault under lock and key where the Count’s bullion has been stored.”

“And the base metals you will alloy with the silver is in the vault too,” said the Queen.

“Yes, just to be on the safe side.”

“And you will be scrupulous about keeping the base metal content at five percent,” the Queen said.

“Extremely scrupulous; my work has always met the highest standards.”

“Do you have enough skilled labor?” Lord Phillip inquired.

“There is not much skill needed for most of the work, so with the help of my assistant and any bumpkins that want employment, we have the necessary skill and manpower.”

“Excellent. You have exceeded my expectations,” said the Queen.

“I aim to please,” Protus said.

“And you will be well rewarded for your efforts,” said the Queen.

Protus bowed his head.

“If there is nothing else you may return to Ligny with our bullion under the guard of Lord Phillip and his men,” said the Queen.

“There is nothing else except for me to say I am full of admiration for what you are doing to stoke the fires of commerce in your realm. Truly more coinage will spur more trade and more trade will prosper us all.”

“That’s the idea. Just make sure you don’t prosper too much,” said Father Bede.

“Friar Bede, bite your tongue. Protus comes with impeccable references,” admonished the Queen.

“Yes, but he is a – ”

“What?” the Queen asked imperiously.

“Never mind,” said the cowed friar.

Protus and Lord Phillip exited with their farewells and, after a moment of glaring at Bede, the Queen looked out of one of the council chamber apertures at the green space where Lenore was playing croquet with her buffoon. She rubbed her chin.

“What are you thinking?” asked Friar Bede.

“I’m thinking that Henry is not very enamored of his betrothed.”

“She does lack a certain degree of refinement,” he said politely.

“An understatement if there ever was one.”

“And is somewhat hard on the eyes.”

“That can be helped with a little rouge, the loss of a few pounds and a new wardrobe.”

“Still, she’ll never be the beauty you were when you married the King,” observed Friar Bede.

“The beauty I was?”

“And still are,” recanted the doughty friar.

“I was just teasing. Age is to beauty as fire is to wood; eventually it consumes all.”

“An apt metaphor, my Grace.”

“Yes, but not germane to the topic; if my son is not to be made miserable by this match we’ve arranged for him, we have to take action,” said the Queen.

“What kind of action?”

“Getting rid of that buffoon for starters,” the Queen answered.

“That sounds like a job for Lord Phillip.”

“No, I didn’t mean to have him killed, I meant to have him disappear,” clarified the Queen.

“Isn’t that the same thing?” asked Friar Bede.

“It doesn’t have to be. I was thinking we could offer him an incentive for disappearing on his own.”

“Like a threat?”

“No, like a bribe; a pouch of coins and a palfrey to ride off on in the middle of the night,” the Queen said.

“It would have to be a considerable pouch, for he seems much contented with his present condition.”

“I agree. I was thinking of a hundred gold crowns.”

“A handsome sum,” Friar Bede said.

“But a small price to pay for my son’s happiness.”

“How do you propose to offer him this bribe?” asked Friar Bede.

“I don’t; that is something I will trust to you.”

The Queen took a pouch of coins out of a drawer and handed it to the friar, who tossed the pouch from hand to hand saying: “I’ve never held this many gold crowns before. They are surprisingly heavy.”

“And so is your task; much depends on how you carry it out,” Queen Bernadette said.

“I will do my very best to make these coins talk.”

“Good. I will leave it to you to choose the time and the place for the bribe, and spruce up Lenore’s manners and appearance in the meantime. You are dismissed.”

Friar Bede bowed and made his exit. The Queen returned to the aperture and rubbed her aging chin as Lenore won the croquet match with a final stroke of her mallet.

“I win,” said Lenore to the buffoon.

“Hip hip hurrah,” celebrated the buffoon.

“Shall we play again?”

“Your wish is my command.”

The buffoon picked up Lenore’s wooden ball and gave it to her, caressing her hand as he did.

“Ethan! If you’re seen doing that you will be drawn and quartered,” whispered Lenore.

“I’m sorry, the temptation was too great.”

“Well keep your hands to yourself unless we are in private.”

“That is getting increasingly hard to do. You have no idea how I pine for you and suffer at the thought of you marrying that twerp of a prince.”

“It will be alright. The marriage won’t change anything between you and me, my darling,” said Lenore, still in low tones.

“I don’t see how it can. Lenore, my sweet, my angel, my life, my heaven on earth; let us elope while the eloping is good – before your father returns.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said.

“I’m not being ridiculous; I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

“How would we live, where would we live?” asked Lenore.

“As for where, we could return to the city of my birth: Strasbourg. As for how, the jewelry in your trousseau alone would keep us comfortable for the rest of our lives.”

“When I said ‘how would we live’ – I didn’t mean living in comfort, I meant living like royalty.”

“Is that so important to you?” asked Ethan.

“Yes, but don’t look so devastated, you are just as important. I simply prefer to have my cake and eat it too. Now be of good cheer and place your ball for the next round.”

Lenore won the next round and was entertained in the process, at her insistence, by Ethan’s telling of a story about a peasant boy and a beanstalk; and another about a tortoise and a hare. Meanwhile, Lord Phillip, Protus and ten mounted garrison troops escorted Ardennia’s silver bullion through the castle’s gatehouse, down the hill and into the village. As they passed by Lady Tremaine’s abode Lord Phillip called for a halt, dismounted and knocked on her door. Tremaine’s eldest daughter – who was nothing to write home about looks-wise – answered the door.

“Come in,” said the mule-faced daughter who had inherited her unfortunate visage from her father.

“Thank you,” said the Lord, stepping through the door.

“I’ll go get Mother.”

The eldest daughter disappeared up the stairway, leaving Lord Phillip alone with Cinderella, who was on her knees scrubbing the floor.

“How goes it with you,” addressed Lord Phillip to Cinderella.

“How does it look it goes? said Cinderella.

“Don’t be sassy with me, girl.”

“I’m not a girl, I’m a young woman.”

“And quite an unpleasant one at that,” said the brother of the King.

“You’d be unpleasant too, if you were being treated like a scullery maid.”

“But that’s what you are,” noted Lord Phillip.

“For your information, this was my father’s house and it should have gone to me or at least half of it should have. That makes me more than a scullery maid.”

“Perhaps, but even so you are lucky Lady Tremaine has kept you on and acted so humanely toward your person.”

“Ha, our neighbor’s swine are treated more humanely than I am.”

“Surely you exaggerate; Lady Tremaine is a paragon of goodness and virtue,” Lord Phillip vouchsafed.

“Said like a man who enjoys her bed, the bed my father once shared with my mother,” Cinderella said, scrubbing the floor harder than usual.

“You are most impertinent. I will have to report your rude behavior to Lady Tremaine.”

“What rude behavior?” said Tremaine as she glided down the stairs.

“That which you would expect from an ungrateful malcontent,” answered Lord Phillip.

“Is that so,” said Tremaine, putting her hands on her hips.

“It is,” he confirmed.

“Well, Cinderella; do you have anything to say?” asked Lady Tremaine.

“Only that your paramour is not only deformed of body but as devoid as you are of Christian charity.”

“For that you will get the strap my dear,” said Lord Phillip’s mistress.

“I would expect nothing less,” retorted Cinderella.

“You see how she taunts me,” said Tremaine to Lord Phillip.

“Forsooth I do. It is remarkable the patience you have with her,” he replied.

“A patience that is wearing out; what am I to do with such a miscreant?”

“Give me my due inheritance,” suggested Cinderella.

“You hardly deserve that.”

“Treat me like you do your own daughters then.”

“That will never happen,” Tremaine said.

“Then indenture me to a seamstress or a laundress.”

“And gain nothing by it. I don’t think so,” said Lady Tremaine.

“Then we are at an impasse; I am shackled with you and you are stuck with me.”

“I suppose so. Go to your attic. I will be up shortly with my strap.”

“Yes Stepmother,” said Cinderella; and she rose and headed up the stairs.

“Now Milord, what brings you here at this hour of the day? I hope you didn’t come to dilly dally.”

“No, I came to show you something I think you will never forget,” he said.

“You’ve got a new instrument of torture to showoff to me?”

“Better than that; come this way.”

Phillip led Lady Tremaine outside and over to the wagon carrying the bullion.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

She did, and he threw off the tarp covering the silver. He took her hand and placed it on a bar of bullion.

“What do you feel?” he asked.

“Something cool and smooth,” answered Tremaine.

“What else?”

“It’s some kind of brick shaped object and it’s surrounded by other bricks.”

Lord Phillip picked up one of the bars of bullion and put it in Tremaine’s other hand.”

“Now do you know what it is?” he asked.

“Is it a lead ingot?” she asked.

“No, open your eyes.”

Lady Tremaine opened her eyes and gasped.

“Silver! A King’s ransom in silver!” she exclaimed.

“That it is.”

“What a splendid sight! Oh that I should live to gaze upon such wealth.”

“Gaze away, my pet, it will be rolling down the road posthaste,” said Lord Phillip.

“Whatever for? Has King Charles been defeated in battle? Is he a prisoner of the Burgundians being held for a payoff?”

“No, we have not heard what the issue of the battle is yet. This is going to our new mint in Ligny,” said Lord Phillip.

“You shouldn’t be telling her that. It’s bad enough that you showed her our cargo,” said Protus.

“Quiet Jew; she poses us no threat nor will she tell anyone who would; isn’t that true Lady Tremaine?

“It is true, my lips are sealed; but how right you were. I will never forget this day. I don’t imagine you can leave me just one bar as a memento.”

“No. I am accountable for every ounce of this bullion,” said Protus.

“Regrettably that is the case,” confirmed Lord Phillip.

Lady Tremaine set her bar down reverently, saying goodbye to it with longing eyes.

“I will leave you to your journey then,” she said, turning to go and put the strap to Cinderella.

“Adieu,” said Lord Phillip.

“Adieu, and thank you for showing me your hoard of silver,” said Lady Tremaine.

The next day Queen Bernadette hosted Lenore in the great hall for a lesson in chess. Dressed in a fine garment, the Queen welcomed the not-so-happy-looking daughter of the Count of Lorraine with a warm embrace and sat her down at the board.

“You will like chess; no two games are alike and each piece on the board has a different character,” said the Queen.

“I’m sure that is true. But why are you so pushy to get me to play it,” said Lenore.

“Because I want nothing but happiness for you and my son and this is one thing that makes him happy; like croquet makes you happy,” explained the Queen.

“But can’t he just play with you?” asked Lenore.

“Yes, but I won’t be around forever, and playing chess together will be a way for you and him to develop that bond that is so important for a young couple,” answered the Queen.

“Very well, but papa won’t be too pleased about it,” said Lenore.

“Leave your father to me,” said the Queen, taking the pieces out of their bronze container.

“I’ll take the black ones,” Lenore said.

“Very well, black for you and the white for me; we set the game up by putting the king and queen here, the bishops here, the knights here, the rooks in the corners and the pawns in the row before them.”

Lenore set her pieces according to instructions and sighed.

“You said all these pieces have different characters,” she said.

“Yes.”

“Such a lot to take in,” Lenore lamented.

“Yes, but like most things, worth the effort once you’ve mastered them,” said the Queen.

“Like embroidery?”

“Yes, or croquet; or putting on your cosmetics just so, or refining your etiquette at the banquet table,” ventured the Queen.

“Do you find my table manners unrefined?”

“Just a little bit.”

“How so?” asked Lenore, sounding offended.

“Well, a princess – and you will be a princess soon – eats her food with a fork and knife. She also takes care not to eat too fast or too much. She is not a beer guzzler either. She prefers wine and keeps a clear head so she can preside over a courtly conversation that should be maintained at all times.”

“What else does a princess do?” asked an increasingly surly Lenore.

“She applies rouge and lipstick to her person with care and purpose, making good use of her mirror.”

“Mirrors are over-rated, you never look as good in a mirror as you do in the flesh,” said Lenore.

“Where did you get that notion?”

“From my handmaid,” answered Lenore.

“Well she is wrong, and you should take her advice with a grain of salt.”

“And what other advice do you have to offer me?”

“Since you asked, I would recommend a do-over of your wardrobe – my seamstress can help you with that department. Also, I’d try something different with your hair, starting with a good shampoo.”

“Is that all?”

“You might try to walk with a little more grace in your step. I’ve often found that keeping my toes pointed forward helps.”

“Anything else?”

“I have some perfumes you are welcome to try; strong body odors are unseemly in a princess. I guess that covers it.”

“Good. Shall we get on with the chess lesson?” said Lenore.

“Certainly; now the pawns are your foot soldiers. They can only move one square forward at a time, unless it is their first move, then they can move two squares forward.”

“Got it,” said Lenore.

“Their purpose is to form an impenetrable line that keeps the enemy from attacking the king.”

“Are they armed with bows or spears?” asked Lenore.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters. If they are armed with bows they can inflict casualties from a distance, if they have spears they can fend off frontal attacks.”

“For the sake of argument let’s say some have bows and some have spears,” said the Queen.

“Okay.”

“The rooks represent castles. They can move forward or sideways.”

“That doesn’t make sense. How can a castle move?”

“It just can,” said the Queen, cutting to the chase.

“Whatever you say, but whoever came up with this game must have been a real idiot.”

“Be that as it may you must remember that rooks are your most powerful pieces after the queen.”

“What about the king?”

“The king is virtually helpless,” answered the Queen.

“Helpless! The king should be the strongest piece on the board.”

“But he’s not, and the whole point of the game is to capture your opponent’s king,” explained the Queen.

“At least that has some basis in reality, capturing a king usually does mean the war is won,” Lenore said.

“That’s true. Now let’s play a practice game. I’ll demonstrate how the queen, knights and bishops move as the game progresses.”

While the game was progressing, Friar Bede was seeking out the buffoon to offer the bribe. It proved to be harder than he had thought. The buffoon was not in his quarters, neither was he to be found wandering the battlements or the green space. He was not in the church, the kitchen, the gatehouse, the east tower, the stable, the smithy or the carpenter’s shop either. Next, out of desperation, Friar Bede checked the banquet hall. Not finding him there he took the passageway from the hall to the west tower. There, he came upon the buffoon coming down the winding stairs that led from the royal bedroom.

“What were you doing up there?” asked Friar Bede.

“Nothing, I just got lost.”

“Well, don’t get lost up there again; come with me, I want to talk to you,” Friar Bede ordered.

“About what?”

“You’ll see.”

The friar led the buffoon to his little habitation next to the church and invited him inside. Once inside the sparsely furnished and dimly lit habitation, Friar Bede sat the buffoon down on a stool and began his pitch.

“Fool. This is your lucky day,” said Friar Bede.

“Lucky?”

“Yes, you are about to become a very wealthy buffoon if you play your cards right.”

“I’m listening,” said the buffoon.

“The Queen, for reasons of her own, wishes you to be gone from this castle, forsooth to be gone from this entire region. She wants you to leave tonight and never return.”

“How very curious, what if I am inclined to stay?” asked the buffoon.

“Then you will be a fool in deed as well as in name.”

“That is a clever way to deliver an ultimatum,” said the buffoon.

“It’s not an ultimatum, it’s just a statement of fact, for only a fool would turn down the offer I am about to make.” sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Then this fool will play the part of a wit and consider your offer,” said the buffoon.

The friar took out the pouch of coins from underneath his bed and jingled the coins for effect.

“This pouch contains a hundred golden crowns. It is yours for the taking if you comply with the Queen’s wishes,” said Friar Bede.

“A fair sum, but perhaps not fair enough for whatever favor I am doing for her Majesty,” the buffoon said.

“What!”

“Perhaps if she truly wishes me gone she could double the offer,” suggested the buffoon.

“Or she could throw you in the dungeon and leave you to the tender mercies of Lord Phillip.”

“If she had any intention of throwing me in the dungeon she would have already done it.”

“I think it risky to assume you know the intentions of a Queen,” countered Friar Bede.

“I think it risky you risk not sealing our little compact,” retorted the Buffoon.

“One hundred gold crowns is the sum I have been authorized to give you. I can go no higher. But I can make you the gift of a palfrey that you can ride away on with your spoils.”

“A gift not worth so much as a crown or two. I see that as no bargain.”

“See it as you wish. I am losing patience with you, buffoon.”

“And I, with you,” said the buffoon, rising up from the stool.

“Stay,” said Friar Bede.

The buffoon sat back down.

“Surely we can come to some accommodation,” said Friar Bede, sitting down on his bed next to the buffoon.

“If you can sweeten the deal,” said the buffoon.

“How?” asked Friar Bede.

“By giving me a second palfrey in case the first goes lame and apologizing for calling me a fool.”

“But that’s what you are,” said Friar Bede.

“I am anything but, as you will one day come to realize,” said Ethan.

“I follow you not, but a second palfrey shall be waiting for you in the stable tonight, and I apologize for calling you a fool.”

“Then we have an agreement,” said Ethan, standing up and holding out his hand for the pouch.

Friar Bede, hesitated, then he placed the pouch in Ethan’s hand.

“Fail to hold up your part and there will be dire consequences,” warned Friar Bede.

“I’ll not fail. Give my regards to the Queen and remember that there are many kinds of fools and you are one of them.”

Ethan exited the habitation of Friar Bede, leaving the servant of God and Queen puzzled and uneasy.

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