Chammielle had slept until dinner, then let the evening go by her as if she were not there at all. She couldn't look at William. And she found it hard to speak with her sisters as they enjoyed every moment and glance from the Prince. Maestro had surprisingly acted as good company, and she wondered what that said about her.

Dinner over and all the Ladies excited and flummoxed over the impromptu ball and meeting with their actual secret admirers, she'd slipped away to her room without anyone noticing. It was better this way. Their idle chatter was full of flirtation and hopefulness, and it only served as a reminder of who she had to play the part for.

Her mind whirring, she didn't bother changing from the silk brocade gown and went straight to the piano room. Her arms were tired but she forced them to play the notes from memory. What was more surprising was that it didn't sound sloppy no matter how her arms dreamed of falling from their sockets.

"Can you not sleep?"

Tulip was there, and Chammielle smiled at the little girl.

"No, I suppose I cannot."

"Are you that excited to dance with my brother?"

She sat in the chaise lounge facing the grand piano. Her dress had pink swans at the high waist and she matched the room.

"Oh, he won't dance with me. He'll only have the chance to dance with six of the ladies, and perhaps less if he is tired."

Tulip kicked her feet in the air as they did not touch the floor, and stared at her over her crossed arms on the back of her couch.

"What's it like having freckles?"

She smirked at the child. With how mature she seemed at times it was difficult to remember she was so young.

"It's like looking in a mirror and not quite seeing yourself because there are flecks of mud all over it."

Tulip rolled her eyes.

"They don't look like mud. They look like stars and you're the sky. What I want to know is what they feel like."

The comparison seemed to draw her from her thoughts. She was indeed an innocent child. Much crueler analogies had been made of her freckles. She was so pure and cute.

"Would you like to touch them?"

Her bright eyes doubled in size though the rest of her face did not change.

"May I?"

She nodded and the petite thing hopped down and came over.

Her gloves went just a above her wrists and she pulled them off cleanly. Those large eyes did not leave her arm as Chammielle stretched it out for her perusal. Then her fingertips alighted on a single freckle all alone.

"It's smoothe."

"You sound disappointed."

She shook her head, still staring at the spots and now drawing her finger over them to form patterns.

"No, just surprised. It's like they jump out at you, but then they hide when you try to touch them."

She continued her perusal and even went to her shoulder. Her arm returned to her, Chammielle went back to the keys and played a lullaby.

"You're so interesting. I hope Will marries you."

She chuckled at that.

"Not Aster? She loves spending time with children, and she reads storybooks with voices for each character."

"No, I like you. No offense to your sister, but I don't think she wants to be here."

She paused in her playing but then continued.

"Oh? She did seem a little nervous at first."

"Most girls are, and they should be. But not you. You write and play and are so real. The others just pretend to be friendly, but they're afraid."

She sighed at that and began a second lullaby. This one she'd written.

"Who says I am not afraid? There are many more things to be afraid of here than back home."

"No, you're not afraid of us and that's what makes you different. I like this song. I've never heard it before."

She played a few more refrains before asking her what weighed on her from her statement.

"Why would anyone be afraid of you? Or Violet or Will for that matter?"

"Because we're royals. And that means we have power, so no one wants to upset us. I'd much rather get into a fight with someone. It'd be normal."

"Would you like to fight me?"

She giggled at that and it was like bells chiming. Princess Tulip was such a sweet thing.

"Maybe someday. I'd have to be mad at you, but there isn't anything for me to be mad about. You're the first real friend I've wanted to have."

She stopped playing and turned and hugged the girl.

"You are unfathomably cute, do you know that?"

She'd become stiff but then slowly returned the hug. It was like she'd wanted to hug someone for the longest time but had forgotten how. Then she held onto her desperately.

"Promise you'll marry him. If he chooses you, promise me you'll agree."

A tear came to her eye. Chammielle knew he would not. But in this moment she didn't dare dash this beautiful hope of a lonely child. She kissed her blonde head and fiddled with a curl.

"There there. I promise. For my part, if Will chooses me, I'll marry him. Happy?"

She pulled back and stared at her. The gaze was so intense Chammielle nearly flinched. It was like her eyes were trying to find some hidden lie.

"You don't hate him?"

It was her turn to feel surprised.

"How could I hate him? He's far too fun to tell off. And don't tell him I told you so."

She plinked her finger on the button nose and finally Tulip smiled. A huge, genuine, someone just gifted her a pony to live in her bedroom smile.

"Good. I'm going to bed. Don't forget your promise!"

And just like that she skipped out the door. Leaving Chammielle to both adore her more and feel the weight of Will's most recent words to her once again. She really might hate him later. When he married her sister when he'd treated her so dearly.

...

It was an hour until the ball and Chammielle felt famished.

The whole day her muscles had been so sore she only wanted to lie in bed. She'd skipped luncheon with her sisters and had slept through breakfast. If Belladonna hadn't brought her some lamb stew in the afternoon she felt like she might have fainted. The Duchess hadn't paid her a visit but sent a letter with her dress when it arrived.

She was doing her best to read it now.

"The day seems light, and the windows are only a little cloudy. The summer will most likely be hot, but at least we'll be able to stay indoors. Have some punch when you can tonight, Your friend."

Belladonna worked on her hair with expert hands. She was a bit distracted, wanting to know what she looked like for the ball tonight. And also thoughts of meeting Bram again and trying to figure out why oh why he was her secret admirer. It couldn't possibly be because he felt affection for her. And knowing who he'd turned out to be only confirmed that she'd never have such feelings for him.

"You haven't said a thing. Are you having trouble with her missive, my lady?"

"No, I'm just a little distracted. And tired. And starving. I know I oughtn't say so, others are actually starving in other places. But goodness I do feel famished."

"There will be plenty to eat at the buffet table, my lady. I am sorry to say chairs will be missing save her majesty's and Princess Tulip's thrones. So standing will be required."

She leaned forward, her muscles aching. How was she to stand all night and dance through six laborious songs? At least she knew how to dance.

"Should I die, tell my sisters I gave it my best."

Belladonna chuckled and Chammielle played with a loose curl.

"Alright...the day is bright must mean everything is going according to plan. But the windows...ah, what happens at the ball cannot be entirely foreseen so I should be on the lookout. This bit about the summer... It might become stressful, so a lot of players will be in the mix, but we'll stay indoors means... we're covered. The guards are on the alert. Now what about the punch?"

"I think, my lady, she actually means you ought to enjoy yourself."

"Right. I'll have to be in close proximity to my childhood nemesis. I should definitely enjoy myself. Perhaps I'll ask a knight to castrate him..."

She felt a tug on her hair and winced in the mirror at her attacker.

"I was only joking."

"Ladies ought not speak that way."

"I grew up in the country, Belladonna. I know what animal husbandry entails."

"Then do you also not need a married woman's words on your wedding night?"

She plugged her ears and made a sour face.

"I care not to hear it again, thank you."

She could feel her laughter and it got her wondering.

"Belladonna...are you married?"

"I was once. He died, sadly."

"I'm sorry. Did you have any children?"

Her touch turned more gentle and she could feel the fondness before she spoke.

"Nay, but I was a nursemaid for my sister's boy. So sweet, he was like my own child. I'm very fond of him, and very proud."

She smiled at that.

"I suppose I shall be the same when my sisters begin to have babes of their own..."

"What about your own, my lady?"

The dream covered in blood came back to her and she felt a cold chill.

"My mother died giving birth to me. It was carelessness on the midwife's part, but the idea of dying and never seeing my own child haunts me. I don't think I will ever look forward to the day a doctor tells me I am with child."

"I am sorry, my lady. She must have been beautiful."

Chammielle went quiet and let Belladonna do her work. She perfumed and dressed and tried not to knock her over with how tired she was. This evening was certain to be exhausting.

Finally she was ready, and she looked in the mirror.

A dark burgundy dress with pink and blue sweet peas and sprigs of baby's breath embroidered all over the shimmering silk. It had no sleeves, but fine gold chains draped down her arms and attached to her suede blood red gloves. The skirt was not so large, far better for dancing, but moved like water with all the curling ruffles halfway down.

She'd never been one to pay attention to fashion or trends, but this dress outdid every other in her memory.

Her hair was piled high with loose strands. Somehow Belladonna had made it look like roses on one side, and the pink hair jewels made it catch the light. She wore the bracelets as well, but didn't want to wear the brooch or the choker or the ring. Not when she knew where it had come from. She'd wear the minimum Belladonna forced upon her. That was all.

A knock came at the door and she heard the Maestro's voice behind it.

"A special delivery for a special someone."

Belladonna opened it and he handed off the box before clapping his hands together and awe came over his face.

"What a picture you make...good God in Heaven but you look magnificent."

She smiled at him. The words playing in her head once more before she answered him.

"Thank you, Maestro. I suppose palace silk can make anyone look like royalty."

He waved at the air in front of him and took a few steps into the room before closing the door behind him.

"Nonsense. You wear it well, now hold your head high."

She did as instructed and he made and an excited cooing noise. He was an eccentric little man.

"My lady, I do believe you will need to wear just one more piece of jewelry..."

She looked to Belladonna and spied the newest piece that had arrived in her hands.

It was the largest piece of jewelry she'd ever seen in her life save the King's crown. Pink diamonds were linked together at intervals of a few inches by the finest gold chain, and surrounded by tiny white diamonds. The problem was, it was so large. Just what was it?

"I...how am I to wear it?"

Belladonna also looked puzzled and Maestro chuckled.

"Allow me."

He came and took it from the maid's hands and carefully placed it about her neck. But then turned it. Finally only one large jewel hung just above her decolatage and the tops of her shoulder sparkled.

"It's...it's..."

"Perfect."

She turned in the mirror and saw the jewels covering her upper back like a short cape. Rather than take away from her figure, it enhanced it. The lines of her back were refined and inflamed after one two hour session with the sword. A few strands hung down to the small part of her waist and it was like this jewelry had been made for this dress. Jewelry to cover the shoulders. Jewelry to cover the hair. Jewelry for every part. And she looked unlike anything she recognized of herself.

She looked like a woman who knew what she wanted. And could get it with the wink of her eye and the beckoning of a finger. Not to be bought.

It was hard to consider the devious ways such artful pieces had been procured when they were so beautiful.

"I...I can't wear this..."

"No, no indeed, you must wear this. You look like a Queen."

Maestro offered her his arm and she remembered what this act was all about.

She was protecting her family. She was making a show to Lady Aconia. She was keeping things running smoothly despite the target on her back. There were no longer any gaps available for her to make a mistake. She had to look the part. She had to be perfect.

She squared her shoulders and gently took the madman's arm. Her eyes forward and her jaw straight, she could hear the sound of his breath shivering. He was excited. He was too easily excited.

"I'm ready."

"Yes, you are. And no one will see it coming."

He clicked his heels together and they strode into the hallway with Belladonna tailing them.

Tonight would be a seemingly endless dance. She either got all the steps right, or would find herself courting disaster. She prayed her stamina really was that good.