Her glossy red hair is intricately styled, adorned with buttermilk yellow flowers, and held up by thin silver pins. As I make my way across the room to her, our eyes lock. She looks familiar, but I don't remember ever meeting her. When I am about a meter away from her, she asks "Do you like the dress?" I laugh and come closer. "It's beautiful" I respond, but she doesn't buy it. "That doesn't answer my question, you know." And all at once, the words come tumbling out. "I tried so hard to love it, but I just can't and I'm so sorry! You did such a good job and-" "Hey! It's okay! I designed a dress that a cruel person would like, to test you." "Oh. Who are you, anyway? You look kind of familiar." "Elizabeth Montague, at your service." She says while taking a little bow. "A Montague? Really? The Montagues are extreme loyalists, and if they knew, who knows what would happen!" "Probably execution," she says flippantly. "But my family knows. All of the Montagues are rebels." "Really? I never knew that." I respond, my eyes wide. "Well, it's not really the kind of thing you make known." "Of course, sorry." "No problem." She says. "But we should probably cut this conversation short. Don't want anyone getting suspicious." "One more question. If your whole family hates the royals, why are you so close to them?" "You know what they say," She says, smiling. "Keep your friends close-" Before she can finish, her eyes flit behind me and she turns away. "And your enemies closer." A new voice says.
+++ I can feel the blood drain from my face. What if they know? I spin around, and I see a young man with short auburn hair wearing a blue and yellow suit. "I'm Eliza's brother. Frederick Montague." Oh. That makes sense. The suit matches Elizabeth's blue dress and yellow flowers perfectly. "Pleasure to meet you," I say. "Would you like to dance?" "Of course, your highness." "So, why did Elizabeth run off like that? You're her brother." "Long story. We aren't on the best of terms lately. Not a big deal." "Okay." We make our way to the center of the ballroom, and start to sway slowly. Elizabeth is watching me, and her eyes are hard. Jealous looking. I'm not sure why. "Do you have any messages?" Frederick says, knocking me out of my daze. "Sorry?" "You know, messages. To you-know-who." "Oh! No, not really. I am visiting in two weeks, but they have been informed already." "Alright. Could I ask you a favor?" He replies. "Yeah, sure." "It's Eliza. She's always wanted to be a designer in the palace, and she would be useful to have nearby, as she could send messages more easily. Then you wouldn't have to rely on the maids." "You know what? That sounds great. I'll inform my mother tomorrow." "Great." That was the last thing he said all night.
Her glossy red hair is intricately styled, adorned with buttermilk yellow flowers, and held up by thin silver pins. As I make my way across the room to her, our eyes lock. She looks familiar, but I don't remember ever meeting her.
When I am about a meter away from her, she asks "Do you like the dress?"
I laugh and come closer.
"It's beautiful" I respond, but she doesn't buy it.
"That doesn't answer my question, you know."
And all at once, the words come tumbling out.
"I tried so hard to love it, but I just can't and I'm so sorry! You did such a good job and-"
"Hey! It's okay! I designed a dress that a cruel person would like, to test you."
"Oh. Who are you, anyway? You look kind of familiar."
"Elizabeth Montague, at your service." She says while taking a little bow.
"A Montague? Really? The Montagues are extreme loyalists, and if they knew, who knows what would happen!"
"Probably execution," she says flippantly. "But my family knows. All of the Montagues are rebels."
"Really? I never knew that." I respond, my eyes wide.
"Well, it's not really the kind of thing you make known."
"Of course, sorry."
"No problem." She says. "But we should probably cut this conversation short. Don't want anyone getting suspicious."
"One more question. If your whole family hates the royals, why are you so close to them?"
"You know what they say," She says, smiling. "Keep your friends close-" Before she can finish, her eyes flit behind me and she turns away.
"And your enemies closer." A new voice says.
+++
I can feel the blood drain from my face. What if they know?
I spin around, and I see a young man with short auburn hair wearing a blue and yellow suit.
"I'm Eliza's brother. Frederick Montague."
Oh. That makes sense. The suit matches Elizabeth's blue dress and yellow flowers perfectly.
"Pleasure to meet you," I say. "Would you like to dance?"
"Of course, your highness."
"So, why did Elizabeth run off like that? You're her brother."
"Long story. We aren't on the best of terms lately. Not a big deal."
"Okay."
We make our way to the center of the ballroom, and start to sway slowly. Elizabeth is watching me, and her eyes are hard. Jealous looking. I'm not sure why.
"Do you have any messages?" Frederick says, knocking me out of my daze.
"Sorry?"
"You know, messages. To you-know-who."
"Oh! No, not really. I am visiting in two weeks, but they have been informed already."
"Alright. Could I ask you a favor?" He replies.
"Yeah, sure."
"It's Eliza. She's always wanted to be a designer in the palace, and she would be useful to have nearby, as she could send messages more easily. Then you wouldn't have to rely on the maids."
"You know what? That sounds great. I'll inform my mother tomorrow."
"Great." That was the last thing he said all night.