Ball Prep

Meh. I’m not much in the mood to type the intro. To the story!
***********
“Lady Pomace,” a store manager said, bowing low as they entered his shop. “It’s an honor to have you once again in my shop.”

“The honor is mine, Master Bracken” Lady Pomace said, accepting the man’s arm and patting it grandmotherly. “I do hope business if flourishing for you.”

“It ever is,” Master Bracken answered. “Especially with our new prince. Many a girl has come into my shop wanting dresses to impress him.”

Sona suppressed a snort. The girls were more likely to catch the eyes of other men than Prince Martin’s. It took more than a full figure to catch his eye.

“A new reformee?” Bracken asked, finally noticing her.

“Sort of,” Pomace sighed. “She’s been rather stubborn about accepting my help.”

“I’m fine where I’m at,” Sona snapped, not bothering to hide the disgust in her tone.

“Ignore that,” Pomace said, noticing Bracken’s frown. “She’s been invited to Princess Sara’s masquerade tonight and I’m afraid that she doesn’t really have a decent dress to go to it in.”

“We have better than decent in this shop,” Bracken humped. “Now come on to the back. We’ll get you measured then we can start picking out dresses.”

Before Sona even had a chance to protest, one of Bracken’s assistants ushered her to the back of the store and into a dressing room. It was quite roomy with dressers, chairs, and mirrors. Even a tea serving table. Sona was very conscious when she was ordered to strip. Feeling foolish, she stripped to her underclothes, holding her arms out as the woman took her measurements. She heard Pomace and Bracken from behind the curtain.

“Is there anyone specific you want her to impress?” Bracken was asking.

“Now, now, Master Bracken,” Pomace tutted. “You know that I don’t reveal the target.”

“Of course,” the manager chuckled. “Lindy? Do you have our lady’s measurements yet?”

“Just jotting them down,” said the assistant, writing down the last measurement she took. Putting the board aside, she opened a drawer and pulled out a soft off white cotton robe.

“Put this on,” Lindy ordered. “You’ll be changing a lot until we find the right dress. Best keep you comfortable.”

“I’d be comfortable not doing this,” Sona grumbled, but accepted the robe. She put it on, hoping that Lady Pomace would quickly loose interest in this. She was hoping against reality, but she could still think of it wistfully.

“Thank you, Lindy,” Pomace said, as the assistant left the changing room. Before the door closed, the old lady entered, smiling at her. “You don’t look happy,” she noted, picking a chair and sitting in it.

“Of course I’m not happy!” Sona snapped, not the least bit afraid to be mean to the old woman. She may be the Reformer, a powerful noble figure, but she was a commoner stung with the pain of loving a prince. She was bitter. “I wasn’t planning on going to the ball tonight! I was just going to…”

“Lady Sona,” Pomace said firmly. “I’m not interested in what your plans were. Princess Sara invited you to the ball personally, if I remember correctly. You have to go. It would be rude not to.”

Sona scowled. She didn’t like it when people backed her into a corner. Lady Pomace was right. If she didn’t go, she would be insulting the princess. While she wouldn’t normally care, Sara was sort of a friend. She wasn’t going to be rude to a friend.

And Martin was going to be there.

She shook that thought out of her head.

“Now,” Pomace said calmly, sensing that she wasn’t going to argue. “Tell me. What’s Prince Martin’s favorite color?”

Sona scoffed, turning her back to the noblewoman. She folded her arms tightly around herself, refusing to answer. It wasn’t her business to know what the prince’s favorite color was.

“You’re a stubborn woman,” Pomace chuckled. “How about another question? How did you meet Prince Martin? I understand that he’s the Alex. And you’re a research spy. Am I safe to assume that it was at the Tree?”

Sona knew it was pointless to ask how Pomace knew that Martin was the Alex. The woman probably knew most secrets at Court. She sighed, figuring that there wasn’t any harm in telling her.

“Yes,” she said softly. “We met at the Tree.”

Pomace waited a few seconds. “Well?” she asked. “Don’t leave me hanging! Tell me. What was your first meeting like?”

Sona chuckled softly, remembering that day so long ago. “I had just joined the Network. I was going to be a research spy, I had already set my mind on that. But Suit wants all his spies to have some basic training. So I went to a defense class. That’s when I first met Martin.”

Pomace didn’t say anything, allowing her to reminisce about it. “There were other teenagers about our ages. I was fifteen and he nearly sixteen. I had no idea that he was already training to become the next Alex. I just thought he was another student.”

“That wasn’t the case?” Pomace asked, interest in her tone.

Sona smiled despite herself. “No. When the class began, I found out that he was actually our teacher’s assistant. To show us what we’d learn in this class, Mr. Ander and Martin had a fight.” She paused, the awe she felt then still stirred within her. “I’ve never seen such precision or deadly grace. And Martin won. He won against a man who was taller, bigger, stronger, and far more older than himself.” She glanced up, meeting her own gaze in the mirror.

“I realized just how small and insignificant I was then,” she whispered, seeing that small girl in that glass years before. It was then when she finally admitted her fear of being alone in a new place, surrounded by dangerous people. “I was about ready to leave. Go home. I thought there was no way that I could ever achieve that sort of greatness.”

“But you didn’t?” Pomace accurately guessed.

Sona chuckled, though not with humor. “It was during the middle of class when I thought that I could slip away. But Martin caught me. He asked me where I was going and I told him that I thought that I couldn’t do it, that I was going to go home.” She chuckled again, this time with humor. “He smiled in his smug way and asked me how I knew I couldn’t do it if I hadn’t even tried it. When I hesitated, he promised that he would help me, even give me some private lessons. It’s thanks to Martin that I stayed in the Network.”

She sighed, gazing at herself in the mirror. Many told her that she was a beautiful woman, but all she could see was a young girl, someone who had gotten into something far over her head. She saw only someone who was terrified of loosing her heart to a dream that she couldn’t handle.

“Martin deserves better than me,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. “He always has.” She bowed her head, trying to fight the tears.

“Do you want to know why I wanted to reform you?”

Sona frowned. Turning around, she gave Pomace a confused look. Why change the subject now?

“I am known to reform anyone,” Pomace said, smiling at her kindly. “I don’t care about noble or common blood. And here’s why. I search for girls who are both bold and fiery but who also know how to be compassionate and loving. There are too many girls out there who are only fiery, and others who are only caring. The ultimate Aeternan woman is one who possesses both qualities and knows when to be bold and when to be loving. Blood does not determine if a woman has these qualities. It is a woman’s character that does. This is what I look for.”

She leaned forward, her expression stern yet caring. “I see these qualities in you, Sona Merette. And you’ve mastered them far more on your own than any woman I’ve tired to reform in the past. In truth, there isn’t very much that I can do to reform you. I just wanted to help you find a place where you’d be happy. I figured you had already found your place, when you refused my help. That’s why I didn’t try to pursue reforming you.

“But then,” she went on, leaning back again in her chair, “Queen Abigail approached me with a problem. Her son was in love. With a commoner. I was about to refuse to help when Abigail said that it was you that Martin loved. I vowed then to help. I was the one to convince the Court that Martin should pick his bride. I was the one who has manipulated a nation to accept anyone onto the throne next to our crown prince. And the reason I did that is because I can’t think of another woman more deserving, more qualified to be our next queen.

“And Prince Martin,” she whispered, smiling a bit, “can’t think of being with any another woman. Now, Sona, are you going to give up that chance to be with the man you love?”

Sona bit her lip and turned away, once again looking at herself in the mirror. She was in such over her head. What did she know about nobility? About running a nation? How could she be a princess?

“How could I, a former street urchin, a trained spy, be the prince?”

She suddenly remembering the conversation that spring when he was trying to explain why he didn’t believe he was the prince. The thoughts that filled her mind had been filling his for years.

He feels the same way, she realized.

“Blue,” she said softly.

“What?” Pomace asked. “What did you just say? My ears aren’t what they used to be.”

Sona half turned to look at the old noblewoman. “Blue,” she said again, louder. “It’s Martin’s favorite color.”

Pomace smiled. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
***********
“You realize that this interview isn’t necessarily going to lead to a job, right?”

Steve smiled at the older man, his expression straining to convey hope and youth optimism. “I know that,” he answered. “But it never hurts to try.”

Victor O’Dell snorted softly, though he was smiling a bit. They sat in the head servant’s office. Close to the Santers’ personal apartments.

“There’s only one reason why I’m hiring new servants,” O’Dell said, straightening a stack of papers on his desk. “The current servants here have been trained to deal with our queen and princess. However, Prince Martin hasn’t grown up around servants. He’s had to work on his own. Rather than retrain my current staff to deal with our prince, I thought it would be easier to train new staff that won’t have to break habits that our prince will not put up with. You understand, right?”

“It is the same everywhere,” Steve said with a dramatic sigh. “Each place has a different way of doing things. Training new staff is just a fact of life.”

“Very true,” O’Dell agreed. He stood up. “Now, how about a test of your skills? I need something to judge you on.”

You’re not the only one, Steve thought, following O’Dell out of the servant’s quarters. If he ever wanted to become a spymaster’s apprentice, he had to get somewhere.

It had taken him a couple of days to secure this interview. He had to know the layout of the prince’s apartment, perhaps even get a glimpse of this toy dog, before he could plan out his theft. He was getting nervous about the timing though. The best time to sneak into the palace would be tonight, during Princess Sara’s birthday party. Nobles and commoners alike would be filling the palace. The guard couldn’t watch everyone. What would be one more servant?

But there was a more important reason to do it tonight. Prince Martin would not be in his apartment until late. It had to be done tonight.

I’ve got to plan this quickly, Steve thought as they arrived to the prince’s apartment. He had one chance and he wasn’t planning on screwing up.

The prince’s apartment was surprisingly already clean and a bit dull. He glanced around the entry room, noting that it didn’t look too hard to clean.

“Prince Martin doesn’t really own much,” O’Dell explained. “Cleaning up after him shouldn’t be hard at all. And he isn’t very picky about his meals. Just so long as he’s fed, he’s happy.”

“There must be something hard about him,” Steve guessed.

“You could say that,” O’Dell said, forcing a shrug. Steve raised an eyebrow. Interesting. O’Dell was hiding something. “However, this is a test. Clean up the rooms. Let’s see how good you are.”

Steve took a deep breath, facing the entry room. He hated cleaning, it was his least favorite chore. But his uncle taught him how to be neat. A thief is always neat. One thing out of place would alert someone that something is amiss. Rolling his sleeves up, he went to work. He first picked up the books on the table in front of the fireplace, arranging them in a neatly order. He went to the other rooms to do the same. The dinning room took a bit of time, since it seemed that O’Dell hadn’t had anyone clean it up after the prince’s breakfast.

It was in the bedroom when he finally spotted the dog.

The spy was right. It was small stuffed toy, a bit off white with age. It laid on one of the huge bed’s pillows, its glassy eyes seemingly to be watching him. Steve shook that thought out of his head. The only one watching him was O’Dell. He picked up a few other books, putting them on the bedside tables, quickly assessing the rest of the room. The best way in would be from the garden. There were at least three doors alone in the apartment that led out to it.

“That’s enough,” O’Dell said when Steve started looking for cleaning supplies. “You obviously know what to do. Come. We’ve still got a few other things to talk about.”

Steve followed O’Dell back to the servants quarters when they were stopped just outside the prince’s doors.

“O’Dell,” Prince Martin said, not surprised to see two servants leave his rooms. Steve froze. It wasn’t in the plan to see the prince at all! “What are you doing here?”

“Trying to hire a servant for you, your highness,” O’Dell answered, bowing to the prince. “I still need to narrow them down before I’ll bring you into this.”

Prince Martin raised an eyebrow then switched his gaze to him. Steve felt himself pale. He had never been under such intense gaze before! Suddenly, the prince smiled.

“You must be one of the applicants,” he said. “What’s your name?”

Bad sign! Steve’s mind screamed. Number one rule to not get caught. Don’t give your real name. “Willy Cartson Jn., your highness,” he lied, bowing.

“Willy, huh?” the prince asked, now trying to fight a laugh. “Don’t be so nervous around me. I don’t bite.”

I’m about to steal your dog, Steve thought, not faking his quivering smile. I bet you bite then.

“He can be stubborn though,” O’Dell said thoughtfully. “And doesn’t explain it.”

“I have my reasons,” the prince said offhandedly. “If you two are done with my rooms, I’d like to find something.”

“We put everything back in its place,” O’Dell said, frowning.

“I’m sure you have,” Prince Martin said. “No, I’m after a costume. Sara wants us to go as a pair of travelers. You haven’t thrown away any of my traveling clothes yet, have you?”

“I left them where you unpacked them.”

“Thank you,” the prince said, walking into his apartment without another question. Steve let out a sigh of relief. That wasn’t as painful as he thought it was going to be.

“Come on, Willy,” O’Dell said, again walking to the servants’ quarters. “We still have to finish our interview.”
********
“You ready?”

Martin snorted, leaning against his sister’s doorframe. “I’ve been ready for a half hour now,” he said through the door. “I’m waiting for you to be done.”

“I’m ready,” Sara rebutted indignantly, “I’m just… Perhaps travelers weren’t the best idea.”

Martin groaned. “Please don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind.”

The door opened. Sara stepped out, tugging on the trousers she wore. Thanks to his help, she looked like a seasoned adventurer with a well worn over coat, wind blown hair, tanned skin, and a weapon of her choice on her hip. Why she picked a machete was beyond him.

“I’ve never worn pants this tight before,” she complained, moving her legs uncomfortably. “It’s always been skirt pants.”

“You look fine,” he assured her. “Better than fine!”

“He’s right,” Abigail said, looking up from her book. The queen sat in her favorite chair. Although the party was at the palace, she wasn’t planning on attending. It was her daughter’s party and she didn’t feel like intruding. “You look wonderful. So does your brother.”

“Martin looks normal,” Sara grumbled, straightening her machete.

“I’ve had practice,” he snickered. All he did for his costume was pull out his travel clothes and placed a few of his knives outside of his clothing. After he had arrived to escort his sister to the ball, the queen ruefully agreed that a crown would ruin the costume. Neither of them were going with the crowns on their heads.

“You sure I look fine?” Sara asked, twirling a bit to feel how comfortable her costume was.

“You look ready for an adventure,” Abigail said, smiling. “Now, you two behave.”

“Tell Martin that,” Sara huffed, accepting his arm. “He’s likely to disappear on me!”

“You don’t want your older brother watching over you during your party, do you?” Martin asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t want someone doing that.”

Sara stuck her tongue out at him. He just laughed, escorting her out. She was right though. He was going to disappear. He had to talk to someone. Tonight.
*********
Sona felt very conscious as she stepped out of the carriage. She had spent most of the day in the dress shop, trying to find the perfect dress. Once found, Pomace took her back to her mansion and helped her get ready for the ball. By the time they were done, it was time to go. Pomace let her use her carriage to arrive. Sona wish she hadn’t arrived in it. Those who recognized the carriage emblem would know that it was one of Pomace’s girls. While she would like to think that she wasn’t, arriving to the ball in the Reformer’s carriage made her feel like one.

Don’t be so nervous, she thought to herself as the carriage rode away. No one is likely to recognize you.

Not only was her face half covered with a feathery white, silver, and blue mask that matched her dress, she didn’t even feel like herself. The dress they finally picked on was a beautiful sea blue full gown with silver trimmings and white lace. It simmered in the soft light, and the silky fabric hug tightly on her figure. Lady Pomace spared no expense for the dress to be quickly tailored to fit her. It wasn’t anything she would choose to wear. It was too daring with the swooping neckline and tight corset. She had to strap her knives on her legs because there wasn’t enough loose fabric on her torso to hide one. Pomace also personally helped her with her hair and makeup. Not that anyone could see the makeup behind the mask, but her hair, while usually bound in a bun or tail, was piled lightly on top of her head in soft waving curls.

Sona couldn’t recognize herself in the mirror.

She was very aware of herself as she walked up the palace steps to the ballroom, uncomfortably aware of the stares she was getting from everyone. The men looked on with interest while the women glared with envy.

I know I’m not that pretty, she thought, receiving much of the same treatment as she entered the ballroom. It made her wonder just what Martin was going to think when he saw her. He wasn’t one to be impressed by physical appearance. If anything, it might turn him off.

“I shouldn’t have agreed to this,” she muttered, glancing around the ballroom. As far as she could tell, neither Santer had shown up yet. Suddenly she wanted to run. She was alone in a palace filled with partygoers, none of whom she knew and they all wore masks. It was a bad idea to come.

She started to plan her escape. She could go to her room; Sandy wasn’t likely to be there. She could change out of this dress, put on her sleeping gown, and try to forget it ever happened.

“Announcing their royal highnesses!”

Sona froze. He’s here! Slowly turning back around, she gazed up to the other end of the ballroom. Martin and Sara stood at the top of the grand staircase, dressed as travelers. Sara looked straight out of an adventure book with her costume, even with the machete. But her eyes lingered on Martin. He didn’t look like the prince. Instead of a stiff uniform, he wore clothes that he was comfortable in.

He looked like himself. The man she fell in love with.

“By the Seven Founders,” she whispered, her head spinning. “I shouldn’t have agreed to this.”
**********
Martin quickly scanned the crowd, suppressing a flinch as they turned to gaze up at them. While he was doing better at taking the stares, he still found himself uncomfortable with so many eyes on him. Sara, however, didn’t even care at the stares, beaming down at everyone. Despite her protest at her costume as they came, now she was completely at ease. It was a quick turn about that only his little sister could pull off.

There were many whispers as they descended the stairs, most of them about how they had managed to pick the wrong costumes to wear. Nearly everyone in the ballroom wore fanciful and colorful costumes typical of a masquerade. But that wasn’t what the Santer heirs were wearing. Martin was sure they had set a new trend with the nobility to dress more like adventurers than mythical creatures.

“I’m glad I picked this,” Sara whispered to them as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “No one was expecting adventurers.”

“This is a game to you,” he noted. “Isn’t it?”

Sara giggled. “Of course it is! Now, come on. We should mingle. Oh! Look! There’s Serene!” Before he could protest about wanting to mingle on his own, Sara pulled him to visit her friend.

“Serene!” Sara hailed. The noblewoman turned and immediately blushed. Martin had a sneaking suspicion why. He hoped that the young woman would be too shy to do anything about her crush on him.

“I’m glad you were able to make it!” Sara laughed, hugging her friend. Serene managed a less nervous smile.

“Of course I made it,” she said. “I wouldn’t miss my best friend’s birthday.”

“So what are you?” Sara asked, now taking a look at her friend’s costume. Serene was dressed in all green with leafy patterns. Even her mask that only outlined her eyes were in the shape of leaves.

“I’m just a tree spirit,” she admitted almost apologetically. “And you look ready for adventure.”

“So I am!” Sara laughed, resting her hand on the handle of her machete. “It’s nice to be something a bit different any everyone else.”

“A little more different than a bit,” Serene sighed wistfully. “I wish I could be as bold as you.”

“It doesn’t take much,” Sara confessed with an evil grin. “Just a sense of adventure.”

“That’s something I’ve always lacked,” Serene moaned.

Sara must have dealt with Serene’s sad attitude before because she threw her arm around the noblewoman’s slumping shoulders, giving her a side hug. “Cheer up,” Sara said, grinning. “It’s a masquerade! We don’t have to be anything we don’t have to be! Look at Martin! He doesn’t look like a prince, now does he?”

Martin saw an opportunity and took it.

“Speaking of not being a prince,” he said, looking over their shoulders. “There’s a certain title chaser that I want to avoid. Mind if I disappear?”

Sara frowned and glanced over her shoulder to see Lady Rose approaching. It wasn’t hard to tell that it was Lady Rose. Though her face was covered by one of the largest and most colorful masks in the room, she never let an opportunity pass by to show off her chest.

“Go,” Sara ordered. “We’ll hold her off.”

Martin gave her a quick bow in thanks and disappeared into the crowd. There was only one person he had to see tonight. He knew she was still there. There was only one person who had those mixed feelings of love and pain.

Sona was there.

Now he just had to find her in a room filled with masked people before she too disappeared into the night.
**********
“I’m going out.”

His uncle looked over his newspaper from the chair he was sitting in. They were in a shady inn while they were in Nacre. Steve knew why they couldn’t rent better rooms. While Willy was wealthy, he had gained his wealth by criminal means. “Going?” Willy asked, frowning. “Going where?”

Steve shrugged. Part of the test was to not let Willy know what that test was. “My business. I’m sixteen. I’m fine taking care of myself.”

Willy narrowed his eyes as he put the paper way. “That’s fine thanks for raising you.”

Steve flinched. Yes, his uncle raised him. Willy was more of a father to him than his actual dad. In truth, he never thought of Lord Keith as his father. He was just the stupid nobleman who hurt his mother.

“I can’t tell you where I’m going,” he said softly.

Willy frowned, knowing immediately what he was implying. “Why, Steve?” he asked, leaning back in his creaking chair. “Why spying? You could be a great thief.”

“You know I don’t want to be a thief,” Steve muttered.

“Then you could be anything else,” Willy said. “I’ve provided you with many choices. Why a spy?”

Steve stared at his feet. He owed his uncle an explanation.

“I don’t want to be a bastard.”

“What does that mean?”

Steve took a deep breath and raised his head to look his uncle in the eye. “Everywhere I’m going to go, I’m going to be known as a bastard. A noble bastard. I can’t inherit my father’s title. I’ll be mocked anywhere I go. And I want to do something great for Aeterna.”

“You should have been a Ghost for that,” Willy snorted.

“But Ghosts can become famous,” Steve pointed out. “And I’ll be back where I was. Mocked for just being born.

“But a spy,” he went on, “they do great things. Without the recognition. I don’t have to be haunted by what I am to do something good.”

Willy didn’t say anything, his expression unreadable. Steve shifted uncomfortably at the silence. What was his uncle thinking? Willy always said that spies were just like thieves only with better health benefits. Steve never saw it that way. Spies were people who worked in shadows, yes, but they did so to serve their nations. That was all he wanted.

“I hope you have everything you need,” Willy finally said, picking his paper up. “Be careful.”

Steve let out a sigh of relief. “I will. Hopefully I’ll get something by the end of the night.”
**********
Ah, the ball is about to come into full swing. I had a bit of a difficult time typing this and the next post for a few reasons. A) I usually don’t write romantic scenes, so it felt a bit awkward to me. B) My imagination decided to take a new route. And C) It’s very difficult to type lying down (Oh, I wish, oh how I wish I can sit down!).

But that’s today’s post. Next week, Martin gives Sona a question. Enjoy the journey!