The Ball
Colette
The invitation arrived late in the evening gripped in the talons of a startlingly large raven.
It clacked its beak at me, and I fed it the few berries I had yet to eat.
The elegant, scrawling script was written in gold, on paper that was sturdy and fine.
I caught the fading scent of roses as I cracked open the emerald wax seal.
By Royal Decree of The Kingdom of Wimberley
To Her Grace, Princess Colette of Silver Hill
You are hereby cordially invited to attend
The Masquerade Selection Ball held in honor of His Royal Highness, Prince August of Wimberley, on the full moon of Winamonath, within the Wimberley Capital Palace.
At the stroke of midnight, a selection will take place of all the eligible maidens in the realm.
Should you be chosen, you will be called to the Summer Palace, to undertake three sacred trials—tests of duty, courage, and heart—bestowed upon all to measure the tenderness of one’s heart.
Completion of these trials shall grant the victor the honor of wedding Prince August, and becoming the future queen of Wimberley.
By command of Queen Theodora and King Odo, rulers of the Kingdom of Wimberley.
The full moon was merely a day away and our tiny kingdom was just a stone’s throw from Wimberley.
My parents were adamant that I attend. If I packed in an instant, I could be at the palace gates before dawn.
It might have been silly of me, but I didn’t want to go.
I loved our tiny chateau and our quaint village. I knew everyone and everyone knew me.
If I were being honest with myself though, the wealth and size of Wimberley intimidated me. The tales of the Prince’s handsome face were well known however, and I did find myself intrigued.
“It’d be foolish to think I’d even make it to the trials,” I muttered, stroking the long onyx feathers of the raven still perched beside me.
My father, King Osmond, smiled faintly. His robes were of the finest silk our kingdom wove, but they were well loved and worn. The sapphire color had long since dimmed to a pale blue.
“You don’t have to make it to the trials to have a good time, Poppet. Come, let Alric escort you. Your brother is itching to leave the chateau walls.”
My mother, Queen Lilah, bobbed her golden head alongside his words. “And a ball is a wonderful time! Especially in a place as … exuberant as Wimberley.” She shot my father a secretive smile and he hid his behind a goblet of wine.
“I haven’t anything to wear,” I sighed, feeding the raven a few more berries from the platter nearest me.
Mother tapped a long nail to her chin as she mused, “I’m sure I have something that’s not too far out of fashion.”
Her words gave me pause, and I looked up from my plate with excitement. A new dress, a ball, and an adventure? Maybe I could leave home for a few days. It’s not as though I wouldn’t be back.
“Well, if it isn’t too much trouble …”
Mother clapped her hands together, her opal gown shimmering pearlescent in the candlelight. “It’s no trouble at all! Anne! Anne, find my garnet gown and the trunk!” Her voice carried across the dining room to her lady-in-waiting beside the door.
Anne flashed a brilliant smile and curtsied before setting off down the carpet-lined hall.
It wasn’t too long after she left that my brother, Alric, came bustling in covered in dirt, twigs in his golden hair, and a pair of pheasants in his fists. He chucked them both onto the table with an exaggerated flourish.
“Excellent hunting, my boy?” Father asked, eyeing the dead birds on the long dining table.
Alric stood well over six feet and was built very much like the few knights we had about the kingdom, but he had never lost his boyish charm.
It probably had something to do with his dimples.
He was the exact mirror image of our mother.
Whereas I was the twin to our father, golden brown hair that curled the longer it got, hazel eyes that shone gold or green depending on the light, and a heart-shaped face.
“We have some exciting news!” My mother could barely contain her excitement as she bounced in her velvet chair.
“Easy, Flower, or we’ll lose yet another chair we can’t replace,” King Osmond teased her using the nickname I’d heard him call her my entire life.
A blush bloomed high on her cheeks, but she waved him off.
“You’ve been invited to Wimberley?” Alric asked, studying the raven with a peculiar expression.
I waved the invitation in front of my face. “Not just me but every eligible maiden has been invited. Prince August has decided to take a wife.”
Alric burst into fits of laughter. “You? The wife of Prince August?”
He could barely eke out the words between his laughter and the tears running down his face. Alric must have seen the look on mine because he stopped immediately.
“I meant no offense, Lettie, but there are dozens of wealthier princesses. You’re beautiful—that is undeniable—but a kingdom such as Wimberley did not become as such by marrying their princes off to lesser kingdoms.”
Father cleared his throat and gave Alric a stern look, yet there was no denying the words Alric had let tumble from his big mouth.
I would never be the future queen of such a grand kingdom—and I was okay with that.
I wanted to know my people, all of my people, and enrich their lives.
It would be hard to do in a place of that size.
Mother clicked her tongue. “And here I was hoping you’d like to be her escort for the ball …”
Anne had the trunk packed before I had returned to my room, but the sight of my mother’s exquisite gown, and its plunging neckline, sent me fleeing to the battlements for a breath of fresh air.
As I hopped from jagged stone to jagged stone, my sage gown held up most unladylike, I pondered the strangeness of this evening.
Everything had felt the same for so long and then in the blink of an eye, everything had changed.
The idea of falling in love was something that was always just out of my reach, though I can’t say I hadn’t dreamed of it.
Sliding between two large stones, I dangled my feet over the edge as I wrapped my arms around myself, imagining being swept along in a dance with a striking man with kind eyes.
My smile grew as I pictured a life of love and adventure.
Maybe a ball was exactly what I needed …
We arrived the following day right at nightfall with the rest of the attendees.
There were horse-drawn carriages of every jeweled color, and as their golden doors opened, out flounced princesses of every kingdom on the continent.
I was mesmerized by the grandeur. Gorgeous women with auburn hair and pale skin, and midnight skin and onyx hair, blondes and brunettes.
The grace and elegance was astonishing. My plunging neckline was practically modest compared to the rest of the gowns.
I had the disheartening realization that I would never get a chance to meet Prince August, not with the line of princesses queuing up to be introduced.
They hid behind glamoured masks of gold, silver, peacock, and even faux pixie wings that mimicked stained glass.
Tugging on Alric’s brocade jacket, I gestured with my head to the wide-open castle doors.
“Let’s just get inside. I doubt he’ll remember any of their names since he can’t see their faces,” I giggled.
Alric’s eyes bulged as a woman with a particularly large bosom passed us by. He looked dashing in shades of burgundy, with his golden hair swept off his face. A black mask and our father’s silver sword strapped to his side completed his ensemble.
He nodded and cracked a grin. “I love this place.”
I grabbed a fistful of my silk skirts, the garnet shade standing out amongst the other princesses' pastel gowns.
I had been fortunate that no alterations had been needed to make the dress wearable, although I would have preferred something with sleeves.
My underarms dampened, either from the throng of so many bodies, or my nerves, as I adjusted the golden bird mask on my face. I brushed my unease aside.
The night was a swirl of color, dancing, and merriment.
Laughter twined with the strumming of music and the scent of roses lightening the air.
Scantily clad performers danced in bubbles suspended over the revelry.
Wimberley was magical, truly. On our journey to the palace, I spotted fairy pools, pixie hives, goblin mounds, and what appeared to be the rock ruins of trolls.
I was clearly out of my depth. Silver Hills was much more … calm.
I was sipping on punch, watching Alric spin yet another maiden, when I noticed a frightened pixie about to be trampled on the outskirts of the dance floor.
I set my glass down on a table next to me and rushed to give aid.
The delicate being gripped my fingertip as I pulled her from danger and to the safety of a nearby window.
The fresh breeze was a comfort to our frazzled nerves.
“Are you alright? Can I get you anything?” I asked, leaning both elbows on the sill and holding her outside of the stifling heat.
She shook her head, and the tinkling of her wings sounded like chimes in the wind.
“Do I need to take you lower down?”
Again, she shook her head, but this time stood and leapt from my finger right as a raven swooped by. She landed gracefully on its back, and they disappeared into the night sky. I heaved a sigh, wishing for all the world that I could disappear with them.
“That was awfully kind of you,” a masculine voice purred from the shadows beside the window. I hadn’t even noticed he was there.
“I couldn’t just stand by and let her be trampled,” I breathed, brushing a lock of my golden-brown hair out of my face.