Ever After: A Cinderello Story

Ever After: Part IX - The Morning After -

The next morning, the ground was soft enough to harvest. Daniel attacked it as though he was out to kill a dragon, slamming the hoe into the ground recklessly. He was so caught up in it that he did not notice Rodrigo come up behind him.
"I have it on good authority that before your rather embarrassing debut last night, the Princess was about to choose Martinez for her bridegroom." Daniel did not answer. Instead, he picked up a basked of vegetables he had already picked and walked away from his stepfather, who followed him. "Women are so fickle. One moment they're spouting sonnets, and the next you're back to being the hired help."
Daniel stalked away. It can't hurt me anymore. There's nothing left to hurt. Rodrigo followed still, intent on sinking a barb. "But, I must say, I've never seen you quite this dedicated to your chores."

Daniel spat out a few words as he walked. "What makes you think I do any of this for you?"
"My, my, aren't we feisty this morning?" Rodrigo took a shortcut and Daniel found his path blocked.
"Let me pass!"
"You brought this upon yourself, you know." Daniel took a deep breath and stared coldly into his stepfather's eyes.
"Don't you understand? You've won! Go! Move into the palace and leave us be!"
"You're not my problem anymore."
"Is that all I am, your problem?" Daniel was stung. "I did everything you ever asked me to do and you denied me the only thing I ever wanted!"
"Oh, and what was that?"
"You are the only father I have ever known. Was there ever a time, even in its smallest measurement, that you loved me at all?" The pleading in her tone was real. Rodrigo looked at his through slit eyes.
"How can anyone love a pebble in their shoe?" Daniel lost all will to do anything. It had been plain to her ever since her father's death that Rodrigo did not love him like a son. Yet, he had always hoped that there might be some infinitesimal bit of love or kindness beneath that cruel façade . . .but now it was all gone. There had never been anything. He hardly heard the first part of Rodrigo's next words. "Frankly, I never understood why you stayed on as long as you have."

Daniel was stone cold. "Because one day you will be dead and the manor will still be here . . .and so will I. You've been a trespasser in my mother's house too long." Rodrigo was about to answer sharply when Paulo called from the window in astonishment.
"Maestro, Daniel, it's back, all of it!" Rodrigo and Daniel hurried to the drive and Daniel was shocked to find all of the missing furniture on a caravan of carts. Rodrigo came toward the man at the head of the first cart.
"Ah, Madama La Piella, right on schedule."
"It's all here, Baron, every last candlestick."
"The paintings . . .my mother's books . . .you sold them to her? Daniel's voice cracked in disbelief. There was the desk his mother had written letters on, the silver candlesticks that had lit most of their meals, the books . . .
"Yes, and now they're back." Rodrigo smiled smugly at him. "I couldn't very well have us looking like paupers when the Queen arrives."

Daniel looked at La Piella warily. Her voice was barely polite, so strong was his hatred for this woman. "Thank you Madama, this means the world to us."
"I am a businesswoman, Daniel, not a philanthropist."
"I don't understand." He looked toward Rodrigo, whose smug smile was still on his face.
"I can't very well have you around distracting the Princess, can I?"
"The baron and I have an agreement . . ."
"You for all this, though I still think I'm getting the better end of the deal." Rodrigo's smile broadened as Daniel stared at him in mute horror. No, it can't be possible! He sold . . .to HER? He tried to gather his wits but before she could, two of her guardsmen grabbed her. She kicked and screamed, but all to no avail. Marcia realized what was going on and tried to grab him, but he was pushed roughly out of the way.
"No, no! Let me go!" Daniel was thrown into an armored carriage, tears obscuring his vision. It was horrible enough, what had happened last night, but this was beyond his imagination. Now he was even losing her home.

"Kyrie eleison . . ." The sweet voices of the choir filled the cathedral with their haunting songs that brought tears to all there. The Queen and King of Spain sat on one side of the great room, faced by the King and Queen of France. All eyes were either on the beautiful Princess Henriqua or on the veiled figure of the French Prince, Gabriele. Henriqua's eyes were fixed on the floor. Light filtered through the windows and glittered off the magnificent golden altar or off Henriqua's turquoise hair.
Jacquez stood on one side of his father, dabbing at her eyes for reasons other than them. Both his father and Martinez were crying, but that was because of the fact that it was not Martinez who was in that white doublet. Jacquez was crying simply because it was a wedding and he always cried at weddings. His eye caught sight of a young nun with long pigtails on the opposite side who was crying as well. Who was she? Why did she cry? Jacquez could answer neither question. Gabriele of France reached the Princess's side just as the choir finished.