Chapter 16
If there's one thing that's worse than being at a masquerade ball, it's having a dress fitting for a masquerade ball.
Especially when I'm supposedly the host or the guest of honour.
I'm not really sure which it is, nobody has really explained it to me, and it's not like I've had any input into any of it despite the organising of things like this being one of my jobs in the castle.
The only saving grace is that Nate, Chef Martina, and the rest of the kitchen staff know me well enough that I'm certain they would never create a menu I wouldn't like.
It's the rest of the ball that I'm less certain about.
"Would you step onto the pedestal, Your Highness?" one of the seamstresses asks.
I nod and go where she directs, listening to several other instructions as she starts checking the various parts of my gown. Despite the fact the ball is only a couple of days away, there still seems to be a lot of work to do on it.
Veronica arrives for her own fitting a little after me, and her dress seems even less finished than mine, though I doubt it's anything to worry about. To my knowledge, the seamstresses have never been late with a dress for an event, I doubt they're about to start now.
A woman comes into the room with a large tray and dips into a curtsy in front of Veronica. "I have the mask selection for you, Your Highness."
My sister's face lights up and she leans over to look at them all, carefully considering things that I wouldn't even notice about each of them until she selects a silver mask that will only hide a small strip of her eyes.
"This one, I think," she says.
"Of course, Your Highness." The woman takes it back from her and disappears.
"Have I told you how glad I am that you're having a masquerade?" Veronica asks me as she swirls her gown in front of the mirror.
"Several times," I respond. "I still don't understand why you insisted that I had one, you know I don't like them." I lift my arms for the seamstress, trying not to think too much about the way the cuffs of my dress are irritating my wrists.
"You like them when you can sneak out to go baking," she says without a care for who is in the room. But I suspect the seamstresses are all aware of my baking habits. They probably know that most of the evenings in the kitchen end in kisses now too.
"Mama has explicitly said that I'm not allowed to do that at this ball," I point out.
"I know, but I'm sure you're still going to find a reason to enjoy it."
I look over at my sister, trying to work out the expression on her face but struggling with it. Perhaps it's triumph, but that makes no sense when there's nothing she's won, at least to my knowledge. "Are you being cryptic on purpose?"
"I don't want to ruin the surprise," she says. "Could you shorten the sleeves a little? I think the cuffs are going to get in the way. Perhaps the same for Princess Evelyn too?" she asks one of the seamstresses.
"Of course, Your Highness." She dips into a curtsy and looks at Veronica's cuffs before pinning them.
I frown and look down at my own wrists, a little surprised that Veronica noticed.
"They were annoying me, so I'm certain they were annoying you," she says when she sees me looking.
"Thank you."
"What are sisters for?" she asks with a smile. "Especially when you've been good to me and agreed to a masquerade."
I narrow my eyes at her. "What are you planning?" I ask. "Is this to do with the Duchesse?"
"I'm not planning anything specific with her," she muses. "Though I am looking forward to a dance. She's a sublime dancer."
"Don't say that around Mama, or she'll suggest the Duchesse as your suitor."
"Unlikely. The trade deal with Gaullesse has already been signed. If your ball wasn't happening, they'd already have left," Veronica says.
“It has?"
She nods. "Did Artie not tell you?"
"I haven't seen much of him in the past fortnight," I admit.
"He said that the deal is sealed and we're going to be hosting talks between Gaullesse and Someil in the future.
I think he mentioned some kind of hope for a treaty between multiple countries in our continent in some kind of situation that will benefit us all.
I'm not truly sure that I understand it," she says.
"I don't even know what half of those words mean." I turn around when instructed by one of the seamstresses.
Veronica tuts. "We both know that isn't true. You understand perfectly fine what trade deals and treaties entail. That's how you get all of your good ingredients. What was the recent one you were telling me about?"
"Milk chocolate," I respond. "From Rhiland. Nate had us use it in the truffles we had when we were out riding."
"They were good," she says. "He really should make more chocolates."
"If you ask him to, he will."
"I don't know what to ask him for," she admits. "I don't know how either of you come up with flavours."
"You think of what will taste good."
"You make it sound so simple." She lets out a sigh. "I guess I'll just have to settle for eating the food you make."
I'm stopped from answering by the woman with the masks reappearing and coming over to me with the tray.
She holds it out to me, and I look over them, trying to decide which one is going to irritate me the least. A pink eye mask trimmed in white lace catches my attention and seems like the simplest. "This one, please.
But can you make sure the lace won't touch my skin? "
"Of course, Your Highness."
I feel awful making such a specific request, but I also know that no one likes it when I burn clothes and accessories. So if I'm going to make it through the entire ball without feeding something to the fire, then this is what I'm going to have to do.