Authors: Lauren Skidmore
Confused, I looked around me, and realized what a mess I must look. I sat back on my heels and quickly brushed my hair out of my face, trying to smooth it down as best I could with dirty, wrinkled fingers. I was spattered with soap stains, and who knows what sort of food bits still clung to my clothing. Added to the complete mud disaster that surrounded me, I must have looked absolutely pitiful.
The movement of my hands caught his eyes, and he knelt down and grabbed one of my grubby hands in his own finely gloved hand. “You have cuts on your hands, Evie. What happened to you? Why were you on the floor?” There was nothing but concern in his voice.
“I dropped some plates,” I said flatly but didn’t pull my hand away. “I must have cut myself cleaning up the pieces.”
He pulled my hand toward his face and dropped a gentle kiss on my palm. The feel of his lips against my skin sent shivers down my spine, and I pulled my hand away, suddenly self-conscious and uncomfortable.
“Please get up,” I said. “You’ll ruin your clothes.”
“I don’t care,” he said, determinedly kneeling in a particularly muddy spot of floor to spite me. “I don’t care about clothes, you know that.”
I winced at the sight of the muddy fabric. “But I can’t stand it. Get up, please.”
“Stand with me. I won’t have you on the floor before me.” He pulled me up, and I quickly stepped a more comfortable distance away from him.
“You never answered why you were in here,” I said quietly.
“I did. I said I was looking for you.”
“At this hour?”
“I was waiting in your room. I didn’t want to get you into any trouble here.”
I sighed. Yes, his outfit would have caused quite the commotion. “How long?”
“How long what?”
“How long did you wait in my room?”
“Does it matter?”
“A long time, then,” I groaned.
“I want to help you. It’s always worth the wait.”
“Look, I don’t want you feeling like I’m some kind of charity case.” I backed further away from him.
“I don’t feel like that at all. I want to help you. Because you’re . . . my friend. I don’t have any hidden motives.”
I don’t know why, but that struck a chord in me, and I was suddenly angry. “What if I don’t want your help? What if I don’t want you to come to my rescue every night? Maybe I want to rescue myself every once in a while!”
“Calm down, Evie. I didn’t mean any harm,” he said, clearly startled by my anger.
But his calm voice only made me angrier. All the sleep deprivation, all the injustice served on me by Vera, all my frustrations of being shoved out of my peaceful life—everything just served as fuel to my growing anger.
“No, I will
not
calm down! I don’t want you thinking
I’m one of those weak girls that have been fawning over you the past two nights. I don’t want you thinking I’m some damsel in distress. Really, I don’t want you thinking
anything
about me. You’re making me think things that scare me. You’re making me want to give everything to you, and I can’t do that. I have nothing, and just by looking at you, I can tell you have everything. So just leave me alone.”
“You think I have everything?” he shot back, matching my anger, all traces of his calm dissipated. “What if I do? Material things, maybe, I’ll grant you that. But what if that isn’t what I want? What if
everything
doesn’t equal happy?”
“You are nobility! How can you not be happy?”
“Nobility does not equal happiness, and you know it!”
“You know what? Leave,” I ordered him. “I don’t want to look at you anymore. You and your beautiful clothes and beautiful mask and beautiful
you,
all muddied by me.”
“That’s not—”
“Leave.” My voice was cracked and dead.
His eyes flashed at me, but I think he could see that I was beyond reasoning right now. I just needed him gone, so I could think. And so I could break down without him staring at me, trying to
fix everything
when I just wanted things to stay broken until I could repair them myself.
He opened his mouth one more time but thought better of whatever he was going to say, and stomped out of the room.
And I broke my promise to myself and cried, in the middle of the muddy kitchen, my skin rubbed raw, and all alone.
T
he floor was still a
bit damp when the sun began to rise and servers filed sleepily into the kitchen. I didn’t care. It was as good as done. I was exhausted and cranky and all I wanted was my bed.
I dragged myself through the halls and collapsed into bed, instantly asleep.
Surprisingly, I wasn’t dragged from my dreams against my will. I woke up naturally and glanced out the window; it was nearly evening. I’d completely missed lunch, and I was sure I was running late for dinner. I could hear the carriages rolling along outside as horses whinnied and pages and attendants called directions to one another.
The third and grandest ball was about to begin, and I was still filthy and barely conscious. I shot out of bed, scrambling for my clothes. In my haste as I ran out the door, I nearly tripped over a small parcel with a note pinned over the top. I thought about leaving it until after the ball, but my curiosity and anxiety that it was from Vera got the better of me.
I unfolded the note. It was from Aiden.
My lady,
I’m sorry for yelling at you last night. I should have kept better control of my temper, and you didn’t deserve getting the brunt of it. I hope this will make up for it—I called in my favors and pulled my strings.
Yours,
Aiden
I quickly pulled the lid off the box. Inside was another note on top of a gorgeous dress. I pulled it out of the box carefully, so it wouldn’t drag on the floor and so I didn’t get it dirty with my own filthiness.
Before even putting it on, I knew it would fit me perfectly. It was the perfect length, and it was a style that I knew flattered my figure. I also knew it was one of Aiden’s favorite shades of green.
For a moment, I thought about refusing. I’d yelled at him only last night about how I didn’t want him to rescue me like some sort of damsel in distress. And then he pulls this stunt?
Frustrated, I opened the second note.
PS—I already know what you’re thinking. But there’s a difference between being rescued and accepting help from a friend. I think the world of you—never doubt that. And I also keep my promises. I promised I would try to get you the chance to dress up and stun everyone who sees you. This is me keeping my promise. Please accept this chance?
You know where to find me.
I reread the note at least five times. That girly part of me wanted to cry again. That only slightly more reasonable part of me wanted to beat him up for making me feel so much.
The part that finally won was the part that wanted to dress up and feel beautiful again. And not have to work.
I hurried to the bathhouse to clean myself. It was all but deserted, since all the servers and servants were working. I wished I’d had the luxury of time to just lounge around, but I’d wanted as much time scrubbing as possible.
The third ball was the grand finale. There would be dancing, food, and fine drink as there had been every night, but tonight it would be the best of the best, and lots of it. I heard rumors of fireworks once the sun went down.
And, of course, there was the prince’s engagement announcement. It was sure to be a story to tell people later on in life. No one would believe I was there, but I’d know it was true and that was all that mattered.
Tonight’s color theme was a free-for-all. No one was restricted by their class, occupation, or theme. This resulted in some of the most colorful and brilliant masks and costumes I could imagine.
My costume would not be that outrageous, but it was still beautiful, in a more subdued sort of way. And as for my mask . . .
I’d overlooked it when I first pulled out the gown. I thought I might have to use the one I made for Milo and risk being recognized, or maybe even the glass one, but it might draw too much attention and again, risk my being recognized. But, of course, Aiden provided me with everything I needed.
The mask sat at the bottom of the box next to a pair of
beautiful slippers. It was my familiar green, with emerald green gemstones and crystals at the forehead. Bright white feathers sprouted from the headband, and veins of silver wound their way around the eyes and down the cheekbones. It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen.
Because, for one night, it was
mine
.
After carefully pinning most of my hair up in what I hoped was an elegant bun, I donned the gown and gloves and shoes, saving the mask for last, to complete the ensemble.
As I turned to admire myself in the mirror, I couldn’t be happier with my appearance. I was
me
again. Not some serving miss, but
me
.
I couldn’t believe I’d even considered the idea of refusing this gift. To feel like my old self again . . . there wasn’t anything anyone could have given me that would have made me happier.
I needed to thank Aiden. I needed to apologize for my behavior the night before. I’d been angry, and he didn’t deserve my anger any more than I’d deserved his.
I hurried through the rest of my preparations, eager to see him, and tried to think of the best way to slip in. I couldn’t go through my usual route of the kitchens—I’d be extremely suspicious, and even if my luck was good and no one paid me any attention, it was highly likely I’d get something on my dress, what with how ingredients were always flying around.
Just walking through the front door might be an option, though I had no accompanying escort or carriage to climb out of. If it was late enough, I might have been able to slip into the masses unnoticed, but I was impatient and wanted to get in
now
.
With the two most obvious choices out, I ran through the floor plan of the ballroom in my head. Wasn’t there another entrance for servants? I racked my brain for a memory of servants hugging the walls and slipping in and out unnoticed. There’d occasionally been a page or messenger that would come in during meals, and they never used the kitchen entrance or the main doors. There had to be another entrance.
Taking one final deep breath and a glance in the mirror, I stepped out of my room. I’d felt safe and comfortable in the private confines of my room, but as soon as I stepped outside, anyone could see me and expose me as a pretender. While it was a little bit terrifying, it was also thrilling. I wasn’t a serving girl tonight—tonight I was a lady. Just as Aiden always addressed me.
I hurried through the halls, trying to remember which way might lead me to the right place. My quick footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, and I could hear the music from the ballroom. I knew I was getting closer; I just needed to find the door. Or even another hallway at this point. I’d been going down the same hall for a long time, and I was concerned that I was somewhere I really shouldn’t be. Every other hallway I’d been in crisscrossed with half a dozen others before I finally reached my destination.
And then, finally, a door on the left. I might have missed it altogether if I’d been distracted. I put my ear to it, listening to see if anyone was on the other side.
When I couldn’t hear anything but the general sounds and noises of the party, I pushed the door open and slipped inside. Closing it carefully, I turned around and leaned against it.
I was in.
And then I realized exactly where I was—the royal quarters. A small room the king and queen used when they needed to confer, or while they were waiting, or for whatever purpose they needed if they wanted some privacy.
It was obvious that it had been recently used. The lights were still lit, and I smelled a lingering scent of perfume. Fabric draped along all four walls to muffle the noise from both outside and inside the room.
I didn’t want to stay too long. My luck held—I escaped the room without being seen and maneuvered my way into the main hall.
It was a completely different experience attending a ball as a lady instead of a server. People actually looked at me and saw me. They didn’t dismiss me as soon as they looked at me.
And then I saw Aiden, standing at the top of the staircase where I’d been stationed the one day I had actually worked the floor.
He looked amazing, of course; although, he still seemed a little unsure and uncomfortable in his fancy clothes. He was fidgeting with a strand of ribbon that hung from his mask, which today, was a golden yellow with leaves etched in a delicate design.
I was so excited to see him that I walked toward him a little more quickly than I probably should have, pushing my way through the crowd.
I could tell the exact moment Aiden caught sight of me. His shoulders relaxed . . . his whole body loosened up. And his eyes lit up from behind his mask, as if little sunbeams were shooting right into me. The stairs to him took but a
moment, and then I stood in front of him, waiting for his judgment.