Chammielle had changed back into her dress in no time, but once again a surprise had been waiting for her.

This time it was pink hair jewels. A lovely chain of them, shaped like daisies. It went extraordinarily well with the dress, and Belladonna put her hair up more elaborately so she could incorporate the gems. At the last minute she decided to add the choker as well. All the pieces matched, though the hair gems actually looked floral. It made her wonder if the Duke of Columbine had a thing for pink daisies.

"Alright, I have your papers, let's be off."

They headed in the direction of the grand salon. Chammielle let Belladonna lead the way since she had no clue where that was. They turned a corner and were suddenly stopped.

"Be-"

The maid turned back to her and pressed the binder into her hands, a finger to her lips.

"Whatever you do, look devastated."

And then she moved behind her.

"Chammielle! What a surpr-"

Gladys fell into her, seemingly tripping over her own feet. She instinctively dropped her book and grabbed her, making sure she was alright. A figure moved in that moment and she heard a crash. Her arms hugged Lady Rosenblum about her shoulders and her hand shielded her head.

The commotion passed, and she saw it.

A pitcher of blood red wine spilled all over her now open book. Her pages were so soaked through you could see nothing but red mixed with shards of glass. Not a drop of ink remained clinging to the pages. All of it was gone. Five years worth of pieces she'd carefully written and perfected.

And then she saw who had done it.

Lady Clarendine stood over it all, a feigned look of shock on her face. She had planned this. She had used Gladys. She had destroyed her life's work.

And then...

She remembered what Belladonna had said just before.

"My...my music...it's...it's ruined..."

She went to kneel and pick through it but Belladonna held her back.

"My lady! There's broken glass everywhere!"

She struggled a moment and then began to sob. It was real. She felt so deeply all the times she'd written in the pages so many beautiful notes. Such afternoons filled with delight at discovering a new sound and melody to carry her away. All her sisters had danced to those songs. Her tears were hot.

"Lady Kuchen, I am so sorry. I hope that wasn't important."

She squared her shoulders and made her tearful eyes meet with her triumphant ones. She needed to see what she had done to her.

"Not more important than Gladys' life. Are you alright, Lady Rosenblum?"

She turned her flowing eyes to her and saw what she needed. Guilt. Gladys had been instrumental in this.

"I-I'm fine...oh, Chammielle..."

She wiped at her tears for her and put on a fake smile as she sniffed.

"It's alright. It'll be alright. Some of those were written for the girls... I'll remember them again. Just..."

She wiped at her face once more and Belladonna cupped her shoulders.

"Come along, my lady. Let's get your face cleaned up."

Her shoulders shook visibly as a maid passed them. Belladonna instructed her to go and get a broom and mop for the mess. Footsteps echoed hurriedly behind them as they made their way.

But they weren't going back to her quarters.

"There, we're far enough away now."

"Belladonna, just tell me all my writings aren't truly lost."

She smirked at her.

"Now would I let any such thing happen to you? Your performance back there was so believable I wanted to calm you down and tell you then and there. You sure you're not an actress, my lady?"

She smiled at her and whisked a make believe tear from the corner of her eye.

"Not that I'm aware of. Believe me, if you hadn't said anything I would have buried all of that and tried to pretend they hadn't gotten to me."

"Well then keep it all in mind. They haven't been resurrected yet, my lady. We're going to the grand salon as usual, and pretend they are still destroyed even in the face of the Queen. They'll reveal themselves when you need them."

She nodded but didn't quite understand. Still, she trusted Belladonna. The woman was on her side, she knew that. Chammielle embraced her.

"Thank you."

She felt those soft and sturdy arms wrap themselves tentatively about her in return and pat her back.

"Don't mention it my dear. Whoo! Now come on! Buck up! We've got a concert to attend to."

The silver hair mixed at her temples couldn't lie or hide the gentleness at the sides of her eyes. For all her bluster she'd gotten choked up at a simple hug. Chammielle made a mental note to make sure the woman received a basket of cream scones once a month when this was over. Perhaps more frequently when she was at the palace.

The grand salon was indeed grand. An enormous ceiling painted with all manner of ancient mythologies and winged beings. She even spied a Griffen. The windows reached from the marble diamond patterned floors to the vast canvas painted like the sky. And somehow strung from the clouds were several very large, very ornate, crystal chandeliers. If the sun was not fully out she was sure the room would be lit magnificently and you could still see the stars through the glass.

A grand piano, white and gilded, sat nearest the central window. Several chairs were gathered around so the audience could sit in a semi circle and enjoy the music at a short distance. It was anything but an intimate gathering, but it was setup so.

Chammielle did her best to affect a saddened but strong façade. It's what she would look like in this situation if everyone knew what had happened. And she wanted them to know. Or at least those who did know to notice.

The Ladies were already present, and Lady Clarendine and Lady Rosenblum came in a bit after her. Gladys looked particularly sad, as she should have. But Chammielle couldn't blame her. Who knew what threats Lady Clarendine was using on her, and she was a soft soul.

"Her majesty, Dowager Queen Magnolia! His highness Crown Prince William IV! Her highness Princess Violet and her highness Princess Tulip!"

The young women and their attendants all stood and faced the royal family. Chryssia caught her eye and tried to ask what was wrong with her own eyes. Chammielle bit her lip and shook her head. It was best they did believe something really was wrong.

"Thank you, ladies, for entertaining this old woman."

She'd spoken with such softness and grace yet her words carried through the room as though she'd shouted. How she did that Chammielle really wanted to know.

"Prince William has also informed me that at the end of your performances, he has also asked a special guest to come and play his most recent works. So when you have played your concert, please accept this as an invitation to a royal concert as well."

She smiled and it was full of so much magnificent condescension. It was clear that being in her presence was in itself a gift. Chammielle swallowed hard.

They moved to their seats, the Queen sitting front row center of course. And carts with tea and sundries came around to deliver cups and small plates. Chammielle took her seat in the back with her sisters. Chryssia kept staring at her and was elbowing Ianthe. She wouldn't say a word.

When everyone had sipped a little tea their magnanimous hostess spoke once more.

"Lady Veronica Phlox, will you do us the honor of starting off this afternoon's performances?"

Veronica smiled in what was sure to be her attempt at appearing sweet, but she could only look smug as her sister Dulcet looked miffed at her. She moved to the grand piano and with a trained elegance that almost seemed mischievous sat before the keys.

"Sir Manen Shaussel's thirteenth concerto, your majesty."

She smiled a little more gently and then began to play.

For all their faults, the Phlox girls were definitely well taught. Their father had spent a fortune to have a master come and teach them, and only two of them had actually worked hard at being piano players. Veronica was very adept, truly. And then it was Dulcet's turn.

"Victor Von Bloomfield. His fourth sonata, Garten Blooms, your majesty."

It was clear who played better. Dulcet had gentle and sweet fingers that tickled the keys into sharing their song instead of forcing them to perform. The song she'd chosen was light and airy, and a lovely contrast from her sister's. The Dowager Queen closed her eyes at the tune, swaying her head lightly. It was of course a tribute to Garten by the famed composer.

"That was lovely, Dulcet. Thank you."

She stood and curtsied for the Queen. She had truly enjoyed playing and it showed in the flush of her cheeks. If it weren't for her sisters, Chammielle was sure she'd be a much more sincere person. Anyone who enjoyed music that much was bound to be.

"Lady Aconia, will you play for us?"

Ammorettallia stood and went to the piano. No sign of dismay in her gracious features that she was upset at being placed in the middle of the concert line up.

"Please enjoy an excerpt of Felzgrund's first symphony, your majesty."

She turned and her fingers floated onto the keys. It sounded like raindrops and a slurry, then a strong wind as it carried some beloved item away. It was sorrowful and had feeling, even as it melted into a happy and light end. The piece was excellent, but it was clear Lady Aconia had brought new life to it. It was truly remarkable.

Chammielle's heart fell into her stomach. Ammorettallia was perfect. Far too perfect.

"Such rapturous playing! Thank you, Lady Aconia. I believe we only have two left for today..."

The Queen scanned them and Chammielle glanced down, chewing on her lip for effect.

"I'll go next, your majesty!"

Gladys stood, clearly trying to cover for her. It gave Chammielle a little hope. Perhaps she was trying to redeem herself.

She scurried to the piano. Her long gloves seemed tight and she guessed she was perspiring. She knew what she'd been a part of, and she hated it. She was trying to give Chammielle as much extra time as possible. But perhaps she didn't know what for.

"The Spring, by Shaussel."

The Queen nodded and Gladys turned, but paused, catching Chammielle's eye. A nervous little smirk was on her cherubic face. It was hard to decipher. Was she sorry or wasn't she?

And then her fingers hit the keys.

Hit was the right word. The piece Lady Rosenblum had chosen was bold and loud. The chords struck filled the room with a raucous noise like thunder and storms. It was unlike anything that had been played before. The Queen sat forward, her eyes not quite believing what she was seeing. Chammielle couldn't believe it either. Gladys Rosenblum was a master.

The song went on, rapturously and dramatic.

Finally, she was done.

The Queen stood. And clapped.

"Brava! Goodness, I did not think to hear such a...vigorous piece this afternoon. Thank you, Lady Rosenblum."

It was over. Whatever sort of guilt Gladys had felt at destroying her music, it was clear now that she had felt she needed to. She was the true classical master, an excellent player. The small smirk from before was her showing how she really felt. How she knew she was a catch due to her vast talent. That everyone else had been looking down on her for her apparent adoration of sweets, didn't matter now. Such great talent could not be overlooked. She'd shown her cards. Lady Rosenblum was a contender for the Crown and had let everyone know she was serious. At the very middle of the week.

But then why did she feel the need to destroy her work?

The applause died down from the other attending nobles. The Phlox sisters couldn't help but clap along, though they gave each other conspiratory looks. Lady Aconia's mouth twitched even as she paid a complement to the tune. No one had expected this.

Princess Violet tapped her mother on the arm and finally the Queen seemed to remember there was one more left.

"Lady Kuchen, I do hope you are not so dissuaded from sharing your own talents now. Will you play for us?"

Chammielle stood, the apprehension she felt now was very real so she did not need to act. She wrung her hands lightly and kept her eyes partially down, stealing glances at Lady Clarendine for affect. She wouldn't name the culprits, but she could note them.

"I am so sorry your majesty...my music..."

"I'm sure it will be wonderful. Please do not lose heart, dear girl."

Will was looking at her now. He seemed concerned. She glanced to the two ladies who had done the deed and he narrowed his gaze at them.

"I'm sure it would be...if only..."

Just then the door to the grand salon burst open and a loud and stout man came barging in.

"I demand to know whose piece this is?! Who has taken my book?!"

The room turned at the uproar, and Chammielle could say she herself was stunned at such upheaval permitted within these quiet halls.

Two knights and four royal guards stepped forward to apprehend him.

"Stop! He is my guest!"

The room turned to stare at Prince William. He'd invited this man? That could only mean he was the special guest announced at the beginning.

The pudgy man seemed to remember himself and gave a half bow with hand open upon the breast of his jacket.

"Sir Gustus Rochester, your majesty. Concert pianist. And someone here has switched my music binder!"

The ladies all looked between them. Automatically guessing each other to be the culprit.

"Grave words indeed, Sir Rochester. Do you have any idea who?"

He glanced around the attendees and then his gaze narrowed towards the back.

"You! I bumped into you in the hallway! Maid, what is your name?"

Belladonna stepped forward, a humble and pinched look on her face.

"Belladonna, sir. I am so sorry for earlier..."

"It doesn't matter. Where is my book?"

She looked him up and down, seemingly confused. And that's when Chammielle noticed the binder in his hands. It wasn't just identical to her own. It was hers.

She stepped forward, a bit of hope leaking into her face. It needed to be there.

"Sir Rochester, please forgive my maid. But are you saying the two of you crossed paths in the hall and accidentally switched books?"

He looked outraged.

"Of course that's what I'm saying! These are not my works! They are lovely to be sure but I have never seen them before and would like my own returned to me at once!"

Chammielle stretched her hand out and the short man handed the book to her. She opened it and found all of her scores and songs just as she remembered them. Even her most recent modification to the piece she'd written for today was there. She hugged it to her chest.

"I am so sorry for the mix-up, truly. And while I am glad to have my works returned to me...I am afraid I cannot do the same for yours..."

His face fell a bit and Chammielle hoped it was an act. If Belladonna had switched them on purpose knowing his would be destroyed... No, it had to be an act. She simply needed to play along.

"What has happened?"

"Yes, what has happened?"

The Dowager Queen stood behind them now. A knight and a guard at either side. This was a dangerous line of sight to be in. A tear fell from her cheek and Chammielle wiped at her face.

"I am so sorry, sir. Your majesty, it is like I was trying to tell you before. On our way here the book I thought was my own was accidentally destroyed by a pitcher of red wine."

Sir Rochester looked faint, and the Dowager Queen seemed to be mulling over her words. She whispered something into the air that only Chammielle could hear and let her eyes convey her suspicion.

"Red wine...before dinner..."

It was enough that she knew this had been a ploy by another Lady. She might ask her later, but here she would say nothing. Right now a crisis needed to be averted.

"Sir Rochester, please accept my condolences. When my son told me you were coming I was so thrilled to hear your most recent works. Now I am afraid they are lost forever."

The master bowed his head deeply, a hand out to his side for balance.

"I thank you, your majesty. I shall have to construct it once more from memory. Though I am afraid my memory is not all that well. But at least this fine Lady has her works back. Shall we hear them now?"

The room turned to her and Chammielle had quite forgotten she was going to play at all. She swallowed and painted a serene smile on her face to hide the turmoil inside at so much attention. Her eyes downcast as she curtsied and clutched her book to her breast.

"It would be my honor."