Kurt-the-giant bowed.

“Kurt isn’t much for talking, but he’s a fantastic soldier. He carries my flag for me—though he’s sorely overqualified and should be a rank or two above that,” the Colonel said, slapping Kurt on the shoulder. “Kurt, please escort Lady Lacreux to my office.”

“The book—” Cinderella started.

“Is waiting for you on my desk. I’ll be along in a minute, although I shall miss you every second we are apart,” the Colonel said, clasping Cinderella’s hands.

“I would have thought you wouldn’t act so silly in front of your men,” Cinderella said plucking her hands from the Colonel’s grasp.

“Where would be the fun in that, Pet?”

Cinderella waggled her hand at him. “Be gone. I want my book.”

“As you wish, Dearest,” the Colonel said before he headed up the hallway.

Ensign Kurt led Cinderella in the opposite direction, the wooden floor boards creaking under his massive girth. He stopped outside a wooden door and opened it, revealing Colonel Friedrich’s office.

It was stuffed with books, scrolls, maps, and papers. The walls were lined with bookshelves, a full scale model of Trieux and Erlauf was nestled into the window seat, and the fireplace was clean and empty.

Writing utensils, sticks of wax, and bottles of ink were everywhere. There were two chairs in the room besides the Colonel’s stationed behind his desk, but they were the only bare surfaces in the room.

Ensign Kurt bowed to Cinderella before he stepped out of the office and shut the door behind him.

Cinderella approached the Colonel’s desk with trepidation. “How am I supposed to find my book in this mess?” Cinderella muttered.

There were army accounts, activity reports, and patrol timetables stacked together. Cinderella tried to turn a blind eye to them as she shifted papers. She finally found a book near the bottom of the paper mess. It was bound leather, dyed blue, and titled: The Growing and Harvesting of Flowers.

Cinderella wouldn’t have thought it was her book, but there was a scrap of paper poking out of it that read “Cinderella.” Plus, the Colonel was insistent she try growing flowers. It was no surprise he mislead her about the book’s subject.

“Still, a book is a book. If it is useless I can sell it,” Cinderella said, flipping through the volume before seating herself in one of the free chairs.

The book had helpful drawings of various flowers, gave detailed planting instructions, the desired conditions, the necessary types of soils, and more. Cinderella read enough to conclude she should hold onto it—in case she did ever venture into the flower selling market—before she realized she had been left alone for some time.

Cinderella opened the door, earning herself a nice view of Ensign Kurt’s broad back. “Excuse me, where is the Colonel?” Cinderella asked when the ensign turned around.

Ensign Kurt blinked at her.

“The Colonel, Colonel Friedrich?” Cinderella repeated.

Ensign Kurt bowed and started down the hallway. His great thudding steps made the floor shake.

Cinderella ducked back in the office. She plopped down in the chair and studied the office some more.

Judging by the building, it seemed the Colonel’s regiment was settling in for the long haul. Like the Colonel’s office, the building layout was simple, but comfortable. In the hallway, there were maps on the walls and rugs on the floors, and in the Colonel’s office, the glass windows had storm shudders fastened to them.

The Army was planning to stay in Werra. Probably permanently.

Cinderella wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

“Thinking of me?” the Colonel said, stepping into his office.

“Hardly,” Cinderella said.

“Ensign Kurt tells me you called me by my name,” the Colonel said, smirking.

“I called you Colonel Friedrich,” Cinderella protested.

“Close enough.”

“Not at all.”

“It’s only a matter of time before you cut the title,” the Colonel said.

“We shall see.”

“So, what do you think?” the Colonel asked as he opened his window—the only real luxury of the room.

“About?”

The Colonel gestured outside, where a company of soldiers practiced mounted maneuvers. “Of them. Of my men. Are they not what you expected?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you think of the Erlauf Army, I can only guess you picture a mindless hoard of barbarians who kill and slaughter.”

Cinderella tapped a foot on the floor. “Was that why you paraded me through here? To show me they’re still men? That they talk and laugh just like everyone else?”

“Perhaps,” the Colonel said.




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