A Lie, a Ballgown, and a Proposal
He worked in theater.
Those four words, shamefully uttered, fell to the ground at the Autumn Prince’s feet. He should have boasted of the blood that ran through his veins, blood of autumnal gold. He should have shouted to the heavens that he once ruled over a vibrant kingdom of Fae.
Instead he put on the mask of an actor, waving away his peoples’ memory for the sake of conversation.
“Oh! I suppose that makes sense.” The maiden who’d asked for his heritage paused, oblivious to his turmoil. She hesitated before inquiring, “You don’t happen to have other costumes I can rent? I promise to get it back without a stain.”
“Erm,” he began uncertainly, then paused.
Yes, there was another ’costume’ he could let her borrow. At the palace was a chamber full of gowns no one ever used.
There was one in particular the Prince was certain would outshine the most costly frock; made from the colors of autumn foliage, it was the gown of the Autumn Princess–if he ever was to find one.
“There is,” he said hoarsely.
Her eyes widened, gleaming with excitement. “Name your price and I’ll make payments. I’ll work overtime to look like something out of a faery tale for one night!”
The Prince allowed himself a good look at the maiden. Her skin was the color of porcelain; auburn hair cascaded down her back. Her cheeks had a subtle rosy hue, so it seemed like the sun was caressing her.
He thought discreetly that she didn’t need much to look like a faery tale.
“Might I ask for your name?” He didn’t like to call her nameless.
“Of course!” She laughed in apology; her eyes, the color of dark amber, gleamed in the sun. “I’m Kelsea.”
“Lady Kelsea,” he said, liking how her name formed in his mouth, “I do have a ballgown I reckon would fit you.”
“A gown?” Kelsea breathed. “A legit gown from—I don’t know—Romeo and Juliet?”
“Erm, no, the gown is in one of the palace chambers.”
“Who even says chamber anymore?” Emily asked, crossing her arms.
“Oh, hush,” said Kelsea, nudging her companion. “Let him roleplay. Halloween is once a year.” She then turned to the Prince and inquired, “What about you? What’s your name?”
He’d never been given a name, as it was custom to address royalty by their title alone; however, he blurted out the first that came to his mind. “Caspar.”
“Caspar,” Kelsea began, “I’d be so grateful if you let me borrow that gown. I want to go to the party looking my best—and if the quality’s anything like what you’re wearing, I’ll even outdress Samantha!”
“The quality is very fine,” said the Prince. “It was made by the best seamstress in the kingdom, colored with the finest dye and embroidered with expert hands.”
Both ladies gaped at him, hearing this description. A stray wind blew past, filling the silence that settled between them.
“Right,” Emily huffed. “But you forgot to tell us what color it is.”
“The gown is vivid crimson.”
“Who says crimson?”
“Shh,” Kelsea snapped. She turned once more to the Prince and asked, “By vivid, do you mean bright?”
“It changes tones depending on the light,” replied the Prince, deciding it was easier to look at her than her skeptical companion.
Kelsea exchanged a look with Emily, who scowled but kept silent. “I’d sell my soul to wear something like that for one night. How much are you charging to rent it?”
The Prince frowned. He had no need for money, but there was one thing which had caught his interest since he heard their conversation. “You needn’t give me gold or silver, but I would like to attend the ball hosted by Lady Samantha. I do not know where her palace is.”
Kelsea shrugged. “I can bring you to the party. But what if you came as my partner?” she added, eyes flashing with excitement again.
“Of course I could—”
Then she blurted out with girlish glee, “We could go as Prince and Princess!”
Does Kelsea know what she’s getting into, volunteering to be a princess? One thing’s for sure–the nameless Prince has denied his heritage, now calling himself Caspar, and he’s gotten himself into a party.
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Filed under: The Autumn Prince Tagged: Autumn, emily, kelsea, reading, the autumn prince
