Chương 49: Last Cycle Plans

"Why is there an Englishman in my bedroom?" is what any other sensible French girl would have asked, had such circumstances befallen her. But Drizella had only a fraction of her soul in her body, and so she did not care. A rather more interesting matter was how James had even gotten here, for it was the start of a cycle. And more interesting still was the fact that this was, according to Cinderella, the last cycle. But how has it come already? Weren't we twenty cycles away just... just when...

oh, all the cycles here blur together in her head. And time in hell is supposed to run much faster than in the living world, when inside a loop. Or something like that? Well, that mattered not. What mattered was that Drizella now needed to do things. She needed to act, she needed to care, or at least pretend to. This was the last cycle, and Drizella needed to try, as hard as she could, to be present in the world of the living. So. Today she would need to do things outside her bed. Outside her room, in fact.

And for that, she would need to get dressed. Yes, she had but a small part of her soul. But that part was quite enough to see a problem here.

"OUT!" She willed the puppet to point one accusatory finger at James.

"NOW!" James jumped, squeaked something in English, and scrambled for the door, all elbows and apology, knocking his hip on the dresser and fumbling the handle twice before he got it open and fled.

"Oh my!" Cinderella brought a hand to her mouth.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't think..."

"Fine," Drizella said. Then she willed the puppet to pick her clothes from the dresser and dress itself. She wasn't sure it would work; dressing involved a great many complex movements, and she did not feel truly in control. But it turned out fine. Drizella only had to imagine the puppet doing the thing, an arm sliding into a sleeve, fingers pinching a button through its hole, a stocking rolled up the leg, and the puppet performed the whole complicated dance on its own. Yes. This was a capable marionette.

All in all she dressed quickly, faster than usual, actually. Which made her wonder about combat. Instead of trembling over an unloaded pistol, she could now simply imagine the movement, however complex, and the puppet would carry out the order without fear or hesitation. That could prove handy if things turned messy today. And Drizella was sure as daylight that they absolutely would.

"Crumpet-smash, wot wot!" Cinderella called in English to James, once Drizella was finished and decent again. And James came back in.

"I am sorry," James said, in a heavy English accent.

"Thought dead, so, not care."

"You are a deviant." Drizella did not particularly care; she merely stated things as they were.

"And why do you speak French?"

"Cinderella teach me," James said.

"Very good teacher."

"Oh, he really is just a quick learner," offered Cinderella.

"That is... what I read in the journal, at least."

"You seem familiar with each other," Drizella noted.

"Why, he is my dear friend," Cinderella smiled.

"Apparently." She gave James a small curtsy, and he answered with a ridiculous bow.

"I know he went to great pains to arrive before sunrise, mischievously throwing pebbles at my window to wake me early. That way I could read the journal before first light, and have a long talk with James besides. Most cycles, I imagine, I come to you all tears and mess. Today I had time to calm myself first." It was smart, Drizella thought. In the last cycle, it made sense not to waste a single minute. But that was probably not the only reason he came.

"Why are you here?" Drizella asked. James looked at her, arms crossed, smile smug.

"Very important reasons," he said.

"To help. Important!"

"Why?" Drizella asked again impatiently.

"Many reason," said James.

"Help start. Make you... larry."

"Hurry," corrected Cinderella.

"Yes, boggle-tumpet," said James.

"Also, danger, so I'm to crocket."

"Protect," corrected Cinderella.

"Golly bolly."

"Yes," said James.

"Last cycle. Danger." He looked at Cinderella.

"Also, crump-widdle."

"Plan," she said.

"Yes, plan," he said.

"Help plan. Also mugger wot..."

"Stop!" Drizella had a rare burst of emotion, and it was the urge to strangle James.

"I was wrong. He clearly cannot speak a civilized tongue. He should have brought Roger."

"Roger, bad mouse!" said James.

"They had a fight," supplied Cinderella.

"Over a cheese. A silly affair. But it's fine, James told me everything, and between his French and my English, I believe I got it all." She gave James an encouraging smile.

"I thought your French was very good." She looked back at Drizella.

"So. James rode two hours through the night so we could move fast, since in the last cycle every hour is precious. And, as he said, to protect us. If the enemy has found our starting point, this house, striking here at dawn on the final cycle would be the obvious move."

"Yes, protect," James repeated, and looked especially smug.

"He is also here to brief us on the mission. To share the Thomas Thomas intel, go over the plan, and make sure everyone knows their part in it."

"Mission?" Drizella asked.

"Well," Cinderella began, "the mission objective is, ah... to seduce... oh, I do hate that word."

"Make the prince fall helplessly in love with you," Drizella supplied drily.

"Yes." Cinderella smiled, relieved.

"Thank you. I like that much better."

"James told me everything the Thomas Thomas have learned," she continued.

"They have an informant, and according to him, the Julian group has a candidate of their own to... er... conquer the prince's heart. Apparently she is quite a pretty gal, and through trial and error over many cycles, they have already... well, succeeded. And have the B. M. P. ready." Meaning, they had discovered that if a pretty girl looked sufficiently lost and stupid, the prince would be utterly enchanted.

"Our enemies will be there to back her up," Cinderella continued, and looked at Drizella seriously.

"The red-haired woman, whom you... have already met. Her name is Caroline. She is the leader. With her is a capable time loop assistant, a large, dark-skinned man. Joseph." Yes, Drizella remembered them well. At the shootout, after she had killed their assassin, James had caught the dark-skinned man, set his finger bones burning and put a knife to his throat. It had been quite a sight. The red-haired time looper had escaped in the confusion.

"James says Joseph has years of military service behind him, and that he is dangerous. He keeps company with old soldiers of Napoleon's, and we suspect he may hire a few for the ball, as extra protection."

"Do they suspect us?" Drizella asked.

"We think not," Cinderella said, and James, who understood that bit, nodded in confirmation.

"It is likely only a precaution.

"Are there more enemies?" Drizella asked.

"The candidate for the prince, Amélie," said Cinderella.

"She is a time loop assistant, but we know little about her."

"I see," Drizella said.

"Last cycle," said James.

"Maybe more. Enemies. Maybe many."

"Anything can happen in the last cycle," added Cinderella.

"Everyone has always told me so." She sighed and looked worried.

"If I am honest, I'm quite rattled."

"Plan," Drizella prompted. They ought to have one by now, so they might as well get to it.

"Oh, that's right," said Cinderella.

"We have a good one!" She managed a small smile and glanced at James, who looked back at her with an encouraging, and smug, smile.

"I told Juliette about the time we sneaked into the palace garden. I didn't have the journal then, but you told me all about it!" Her smile grew as she recalled what she had read, of what Drizella had told her, of what had once happened.

"In that cycle, the prince and I, we... grew fond of one another, even before the ball. So that is what we shall do now. The Julian group knows nothing of it! The game will be over for them before the ball even begins!"

"At the ball, you will dance," Drizella stated.

"They will see you."

"Well, we simply must dance." Cinderella's smile grew wider.

"But what can our enemies do? There will be guards everywhere, Juliette and Victor will be in attendance, and James too. They are capable. And of course, I'll have you. I trust you all very much."

"Toodle-pip splish-wanker, Victor," added James.

"Bobby-wobble chuff-pot! Codswallop natter-jack, tea-leaf tiddle-pomp snogger-mosh."

"Oh, right," said Cinderella.

"Victor apparently knows one of the guard captains at the palace. He will tell him he has reliable word of an assassination plot against the prince, so they will double the guard and keep close watch on him." And Cinderella would be dancing, stuck to the prince, quite inseparable, so the guards would in effect be protecting her too. It was a reasonable, workable plan, Drizella thought. But she could not help noticing what the plan did not include. It did not include removing the enemy.

The whole thing rested on a quiet assumption: that once the Julian group had lost, Cinderella dancing, the prince smitten, the guards on alert, they would simply lose gracefully, nod, and go home. Drizella highly doubted it. But she was not in an arguing mood.

"I will help too!" came a squeak. Drizella looked, and there was Suzy, emerging from behind the water jug.

"I heard it all! Time magic thingy! Yes! I can help too!"

"Oh, Suzy!" Cinderella was startled to see her.

"I do appreciate your willingness, truly I do, but you mustn't. It is bound to be dangerous, and I fear there is little you could do." Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"I can always help. I'm smart! You'll see."

"Suzy, please. I would never forgive myself if you were hurt."

"Fine then!" Suzy went off in a huff and disappeared. Then they heard Mother shouting, "WHAT IS ALL THAT RACKET!? CINDERELLA!?" Not a moment later, the door swung open and Anastasia strode in.

"Mother is furious!" she began, then stopped, and took in the room and everyone in it.

"Drizella!" Anastasia exclaimed.

"There is a dashing man in your room!" James took a quick step toward Anastasia, took her hand smoothly, and kissed it.

"A pleasure, is meeting you."

"Oh my!" said Anastasia, and blushed like a tomato. James then turned to Drizella and spoke low.

"I go now. You keep eye Cinderella, safe to... bobby-wobble. Err. To ball." Drizella nodded, and James opened the window and simply... jumped out.

"Wait!" called Anastasia, rushing to lean over the sill, but James had already vanished, and Anastasia gave a deep, unsettling sigh.

"Oh, who was that mysterious gentleman?" She rounded on Drizella, hands clasped to her breast.

"A secret paramour? Why didn't you tell me? You simply must tell me everything! I wont breathe a word to Mother, I swear it!"

"That was James," said Cinderella hesitantly.

"He is nothing of the sort. He is... only an acquaintance…"

"Oh, I didn't ask you!" Anastasia barked at her.

"And Mother is furious with you! You brought us no breakfast this morning, what is wrong with you? Trying to meddle with Drizella's suitor? And the animals? And Lucifer? You lazy lump, get to it already! Or Mother will punish you!"

"I... I do need to feed the animals." Cinderella gave Drizella an apologetic look.

"Even with... everything. I'll be back shortly."

"Don't bother!" Anastasia shouted after her, then turned to Drizella.

"I'm ready! Tell me everything about that man! Leave out no detail! And I do mean everything!" Drizella did not want to answer. But then, she might as well.

"James is an assassin," Drizella said flatly.

"He kills people for a living." Anastasia covered her mouth with her hand, eyes wide.

"Not only handsome and mysterious," she said, "but dangerous too! Oh, why do you get such a man! How did you two meet? Have you kissed him yet? Has he brothers?" Drizella considered her sister. A stupid cow she was, and Drizella had mostly regarded her as such. But she was not like Mother. She was not cruel. Only, well, truly stupid. Drizella would leave with Cinderella soon, and would likely never see Anastasia again.

She willed her body to take a scrap of paper from the night table, and scratched out directions to the widow Clair's house, and where inside it the gold was hidden. Then she looked at Anastasia, truly looked.

"Something is wrong with your eyes," Anastasia said in a small voice, and took a step back.

"You should see an eye doctor, or perhaps..." Drizella caught her arm, hard. Anastasia gave a small shriek. Drizella pressed the paper into her palm.

"Go here. There is a box with fifty gold coins. Take it. But promise to hide it and never tell Mother, she would seize it in a heartbeat. Don't spend it quickly. Save it for when you truly need it." Anastasia blinked stupidly, and nodded.

"There is a ball tonight, at the palace," Drizella continued.

"You will not go, even if Mother insists. Understood?" She nodded again, serious now.

"Also, stop being a spiteful, spoiled brat," Drizella said.

"No man worth having fancies that."

"Now leave." Drizella's last words carried a strange echo in them. She released her sister's arm, and Anastasia got out of the room very quickly indeed, pulling the door shut behind her. Drizella looked at the closed door a moment, and sighed. So many things to do today, and not one of them was an object sort of thing. The very idea of doing things felt wrong to her at some fundamental level. The truth was, she felt more detached from this world than ever, only a faint connection remaining.

Her shred of soul might be growing weaker with time. But it was the last cycle. After it, she could finally stop existing in this form. Drizella got up and willed the puppet to walk the length of the room, back and forth, many times. She looked in her mirror. What looked back was exactly how she felt: a marionette. That would not do. Today she needed to pretend. She must, or she would fail her mission. She worked on her face before the mirror, willing the puppet to life. She raised the eyebrows in polite interest.

Curled the mouth into a smile, first too wide, then too thin, then passable. Tilted the head as if listening. Frowned in thought. Laughed once, silently, and decided never to do that again. Eh. It was not very good. But perhaps it was enough, at least, not to frighten people.

"You are so weird!" squeaked a voice from her dress pocket.

"What are you even doing?" Cinderella had told Suzy not to come, so naturally, she came. And apparently she had chosen to accompany Drizella. She could throw the mouse away, threaten her, be rid of the bother. But she remembered that the real Drizella liked Suzy. She also remembered, the little palace heist they had pulled together, when Suzy had proven herself more than capable.

"I am not as you remember me," Drizella said flatly.

"I died, and when a time looper dies..."

"You couldn't be worse than before!" Suzy cut in.

"Insufferable, you were! Yes! I didn't like you one bit!" Ah, that was true. Suzy didn't remember her all that fondly either, so in a way, this Drizella was an improvement.

"Cinderella said it will be dangerous," Drizella said, "but she doesn't truly grasp it. It will be bloody. People will die today. You could too." Suzy swallowed.

"It's people who want to hurt Cinderelly. I... I'm not afraid!"

"Fine," Drizella said.

"But first I promised Cinderella to eat fruit tart with her. You stay hidden."

"I surely will," Suzy squeaked, "so long as I am provided a respectable share of said fruit tart." Drizella looked down at Suzy, and felt nothing in particular. The door swung open and Cinderella came in.

"It's so strange," she said.

"I cannot find Lucifer anywhere. For years I have always known exactly where that cat would be, and now I have searched everywhere and nothing." That was strange. And oddly specific to the last cycle. It might not be a coincidence.

"But I am good and ready." Cinderella drew a long breath and smiled.

"Are you... are you ready?" She looked at Drizella, unsure. Drizella willed the puppet through the door, one deliberate step after another, and Cinderella followed her down the stairs.

"There you are, Drizella!" Mother appeared and seized her arm.

"Gadding about with the pesky servant girl, and have you forgotten your music lesson? Come along, now..." Drizella turned and gave Mother a single look. Whatever Mother saw in it, her face drained white. Her fingers opened of their own accord and released Drizella's arm, and she took one step backward, and then another.

"You... what have you..." But they were already out the door. They walked toward town in silence. When they neared the center, Cinderella linked her arm through Drizella's and smiled at her. Right. That was the mission now: to give Cinderella a memory. One happy afternoon, to keep. Drizella smiled back. She had practiced that smile. They went arm in arm through the bustling streets, saying nothing, until Drizella spotted the pastry shop.

Most days, the mere sight of that shop window would have set her stomach rumbling. Now it all looked gray and dull. Nevertheless, Drizella made the puppet say, "I am in the mood for a pastry." And Cinderella beamed and nodded eagerly.

"Me too!" As they stepped into the shop, Drizella smelled fresh-baked bread, caramelized sugar, and melting butter. But that was all it was. Just another smell, no different in kind from any other.

"These smells," Cinderella said, closing her eyes and breathing in.

"I have read about them so many times. Surely the journal does them no justice at all."

"I will have the rice pudding and a custard," Drizella told the baker. Then she turned to Cinderella.

"A small cream cake… And a fruit tart!" Cinderella blurted to the shopkeeper, excited. They got their pastries and sat on a small bench outside. Cinderella put her fruit tart spoon into her mouth, and her eyes immediately began to tear.

"Yes..." she said, glowing through the tears.

"I remember it now. Just like with my father..." Drizella made herself smile warmly at Cinderella. Then she took a bite of her own. Spoon in, jaw working up and down the proper number of times, then swallow. Cinderella looked at her with a small, soft smile, a little sad at the edges.

"Thank you, for doing this for me. I know it's hard. I know that... you're not really here."

"Part of me is here," Drizella said.

"For a short while... I can do that." And it was true. Drizella was making an enormous effort to be present. If she saw this world as if from the back seat of a theater, then she stared hard at the stage and pictured herself inside the play. She strained to imagine her real self, down in hell. What the real Drizella would want. What she would do. It was truly hard, and it worked. She did feel present. To some degree, anyway. Cinderella touched Drizella's cheek softly and looked her in the eyes.

"I can see that too."

"Do you remember the first time?" Cinderella asked softly.

"Here, I mean. I know you do. I only read about it."

"You cried into your tart," Drizella said.

"I hadn't the faintest idea what to do with you."

"And then?"

"And then you thanked me as though I'd handed you the crown of France, over day-old pastry. I thought you were quite mad." Cinderella laughed and wiped her eyes with her wrist, and for a moment she looked exactly as she had that first time. They kept eating in silence, and Cinderella seemed to enjoy herself. Good. The tart-eating mission was going well. But as Drizella thought about what was to come, there was something she did not quite understand.

"Why are you doing this?" Drizella asked.

"Eating tart?"

"Trying to win the prince," Drizella said.

"Why, doesn't every young maiden want to win herself a handsome prince?" Cinderella smiled around a bite of cream cake.

"But not you," Drizella said.

"Being royal, securing a place in the palace, being rich. You don't care for those things. You wanted the prince before, because you had met him and liked him. But now you are willing to fight a powerful enemy for it, perhaps risk your life, and all for someone you don't truly remember. So why, really?" Cinderella set down her spoon and was quiet for a moment.

"Because I want to be a queen," she said. And of all answers, this was the one Drizella expected least.

"I've spent many cycles traveling," she said, looking aside.

"You know that. But I didn't only ride and dance and dive off cliffs. I talked to people. In the villages, the market towns, on the roads. Drizella, they're suffering. Napoleon is bleeding this country white. The men are taken for the army, and now everyone speaks of the great march east, into Russia, a war for nothing.

"This tiny kingdom..." She shook her head.

"It only exists because he permits it. So the King and the prince give him what he asks, our taxes, our men for his army, and keep their heads down and their court pleasant. Someone in that palace ought to actually care what becomes of the people. I mean to be that someone. And for that, I need to be queen." Drizella sighed. These were all silly Cinderella reasons. And that was fine.

"I think... I think I can do it," she continued.

"If I am queen. Do real good."

"I think so too," Drizella said.

"But to truly make a change," she went on, "I know I shall have to take part in the next time loop. And all those that follow. Like I am now, or perhaps become a..." She looked at Drizella and stopped, just before saying "time looper." But Drizella knew. Cinderella was truly considering it. Even knowing all the ugly things. Even with the proof of them sitting right in front of her. And in that moment, Drizella could not keep out a horrible thought: what if she did become a time looper?

What if she died inside a loop? What if she then came down to hell, and... was with her? No. That was terrible. Cinderella should stay here and do her good things, and earn real happiness living with her prince. And if she died a time looper, in all likelihood one of the high demons would claim her, and she would become a servant. Ironically, in death as she had been in life.

"Whatever you decide," Drizella said, "you are smart. I believe in you." Cinderella hugged her then. Drizella tried to enjoy the feeling, but she could not.

"These memories," Cinderella said, "they will stay with me forever. As memories should." Her forever could be cut short if she died. They had a long and dangerous day ahead of them. Drizella glanced up at the sun, already past its height and beginning its slow fall toward the rooftops.

"We should go. First to the Thomas Thomas safehouse, for weapons and gold, and then to the palace." They left the pastry shop and made for the safehouse, which lay but a short walk away. Drizella went straight to the hidden closet with the weapons and worked through it quickly. She took three different pistols, rigged herself a belt with holsters, and packed powder and shot. A vicious-looking knife went into the belt as well.

Then she fetched the smaller pistol, the one Cinderella had chosen once before, and handed it to her.

"Did you write in the journal how to use it?"

"I did, quite a lot," she said.

"And memorized it this morning, too."

"Show me."

"You mean... right here?"

"Hit that decorative plate on the wall," Drizella instructed. Cinderella primed the pan and loaded the pistol smoothly, aimed, and... BOOM!

"You missed."

"I aimed below it," she said.

"It would be a shame to ruin such a lovely plate!" And how about a lovely face? No... Cinderella would probably never shoot anyone. But this was better than nothing. They caught a fast carriage to the palace, and from where it left them, walked along the outer wall until they reached the great oak growing beside the outer stone wall. Cinderella climbed nimbly up through the branches and onto the wall. Drizella took hold of the first branch and pulled, and up she went.

She had never managed it before, and she was no stronger now. What had stopped her then was the body itself, arms shaking, muscles screaming to quit, the ordinary animal refusal to keep hurting oneself. That refusal simply didn't matter now. The puppet could work itself to ruin and she would not stop it. So she climbed, branch after branch, until she stood atop the wall.

"My gosh, but it is simply beautiful!" Cinderella looked out over the garden.

"I certainly failed to capture this in my writing."

"You see that spot, beside the large bush?" Drizella pointed.

"The prince and his attendant, Pierre, should come from there, not long from now. Wait there, and when they spot you, do... your thing. I will stay here and watch, to see that everything goes smoothly. Then I will go help with security."

"Right." Cinderella started off, then stopped, turned, and gave Drizella another hug, and a kiss, before hurrying along the wall to the stone staircase. Drizella lay flat on the wall, watching, ready for anything that could go wrong. She could imagine at least a dozen ways. But in due course the prince and Pierre appeared. Pierre spotted Cinderella and began shouting angrily about an intruder, right up until he drew close enough to behold the unparalleled beauty trespassing before him.

Cinderella said something to them, all shyness and excitement at once, and both men melted where they stood. Now the garden tour began... and so that was that. The first part of the plan was a success. The prince would be falling for her hours before the Julian group's candidate ever laid eyes on him. Drizella thought of the Julian group members. The red-haired woman, who had once failed to have her assassinated, and who had likely hired the white-robed mercenaries that finally succeeded.

She would be seeing her soon. Drizella was going to help with security, all right.