Cinderella set her fork down. “Are you accusing me of lying, Lady Feautre?”

“No, of course not, Lady Lacreux. It is only that I was told the soldier hangs about you every day. If he is not being disrespectful, then perhaps you encourage him? Unknowingly so, I suppose,” Lady Feautre said.

“Eh?” Lord Leroy said.

“Lady Lacreux is engaging the enemy,” Lady Leroy told her husband.

“You must have misheard, Lady Feautre. Cinderella would not do something so reprehensible,” Lady Delattre said.

“Indeed, I should hope not,” Lord Rosseux said, glancing down the table to Cinderella and his son. “Not as long as she’s in the position she’s in.”

“It would be shameful to her station and the rest of us,” Rosette said. “Why, think of what those from Erlauf might conclude? They would imagine us to be an easy bunch who will associate with them.”

“You must do something, Lady Lacreux,” Lady Leroy urged. “You have your title and family name to think of.”

“It may be already in disrepair from your actions, but you should at least salvage your reputation, for the sake of whatever family you marry into,” Lady Feautre said, her jealousy showing as she stared hard at Julien and Marcus sitting on either side of Cinderella before looking to her girls. “Don’t you think so, Lady Rosseux?”

“Perhaps,” the quiet lady murmured.

Angered that her fellow nobles, her allies, would set her out like this and judge her, Cinderella narrowed her eyes in a show of resentment “If you must know the reason for Colonel Friedrich’s visits, it is because I was caught up in an assassination attempt and nearly killed,” she said. There was no need to tell them the assassination was meant for Friedrich. It would get them railing against her again. “He visits out of concern for my welfare. I find the gesture to be noble, especially when one takes our differences into consideration. Furthermore, you have no right to judge my interactions with the Colonel. While he does not always act as a gentleman, he has consistently treated me with respect and bows to my wishes and sense of decorum—something I cannot say for everyone present.”

“Well!” Lady Leroy huffed.

“A weather mage stopped through Werra, not four days ago. I spoke with him, and he thought the summer would be balmy but wet,” Lord Delattre said, trying to change the topic.

“Oh? Isn’t that weather good for crops?” Lord Girard said, eagerly grasping the new topic.

Lady Feautre, however, wasn’t finished. “This is what happens when one lets young children run amok with no chaperone: moral ruin.”

“Lady Feautre!” Lady Delattre said.

Several other dinner guests started to correct Lady Feautre, but Cinderella had enough.

Cinderella set her wine glass down and stood. Her eyes flashed as she pushed her chair back. “Lady Feautre, Countess of Eveloy. When you become of such an elevated title that you may question me, Duchess of Aveyron, I will listen to you. Until that day comes, I suggest you bite your tongue. I will forget your ill-bred remarks against myself and Colonel Friedrich if you apologize this instant. If you do not, I shall pay a visit to the courts of peerage tomorrow and lodge a complaint.”

The dinner party froze, as if put under a spell. Since Erlauf took Trieux over, the remaining Trieux nobles united—associating with each other in spite of the difference in rank. It was rarely brought up that as the only remaining Duchess of Trieux, Cinderella held more power than all of those in the room.

Rank had not been pulled since Trieux became Erlauf, although the option was still available. As a Duchess—even a penniless one—Cinderella would absolutely win the complaint. (Not everything had changed with Erlauf, after all.) The silence of the room was broken when Lord Girard nudged his son, causing Marcus to rocket up into a standing position.

“The Girards will stand witness,” he said, earning an approving nod from his parents.

“As will the Rosseuxes,” Julien said, glancing at his parents as he also stood.

“Forgive me for my ill-timed words,” Lady Feautre stiffly said.

“I will forgive you for your poor conduct in voicing the worst of your thoughts,” Cinderella said before she sat.

Julien and Marcus mimicked her, both uncomfortable with the power Cinderella—heiress and titled—wielded.

“So this weather mage. What was his name?” Lord Girard asked.

“I did not have the chance to ask. He was in quite a hurry to pay homage to an enchantress—a full-ranked Enchantress, not a specialized one—who recently arrived in Trieux, that is to say, Erlauf,” Lord Delattre said.

“An enchantress, you say?” Lord Leroy’s son said.

“Indeed.”

Cinderella relaxed as conversation resumed around her. She was about to start eating again when Marcus whispered to her, “Well done, ‘Rella. It’s about time someone put that old bat in her place.”

“Marcus,” Cinderella hissed.