31- Drista

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She smiled at the brightly colored people around her, piano music wafting through the room. Overhead, the moon gleamed in the night sky, it's rays of light falling through the grand glass ceiling and onto the dance floor. It was Midsummer's Eve, the night of the Masquerade Ball. The people of the kingdom had come together to celebrate on the longest day and shortest night of the year at the end of the Summer Celebration. Everyone donned a costume for the Masquerade and Drista congratulated a couple disguised as the sun and moon.

"I really like their costumes!" she said to George, curtsying as yet another guest was introduced to her.

"Everyone does look fantastic this year," George nodded, readjusting his own mask. "These feathers are going to be the death of me!"

Drista laughed at his discomfort. After losing a bet to Sapnap, George had been forced to go to the Masquerade dressed as what Sapnap had called a "sexy swan". Poor George was in a white, low cut tuxedo with a feathery cape and mask to match. She had to admit that he pulled it off, as George did with most of his outfits.

As for her, she wore a simple, off-the-shoulder green gown that matched the royal colors. No mask covered her face, a rule she'd implemented after the first Masquerade. No royal family member would cover their face again as a way to show that they were people, just like everyone else. Drista refused to ever wear a mask again, not after wearing one for much of her childhood.

"I believe that's all of the guests tonight," George said, surveying the ballroom.

"Good," Drista smiled, taking a seat on the throne placed on the raised dias. "I don't think my legs can handle another curtsy."

The music stopped as the first dance was announced. Drista sighed softly, standing from the throne.

"Shall we?" she asked, offering her hand to George.

"If we must," he replied. The first dance always went to the queen, regardless of the celebration. They took to the center of the floor, spinning around each other as the sound of piano filled the room.

"Do you think he would've liked this?" she asked her brother's best friend. "Clay."

"I think that he would be so incredibly proud of what you've accomplished," George responded with a smile. "You've completely transformed the kingdom in just a few years. Drista, that's a huge accomplishment."

"I just wish he could have been here to see it," she sighed.

"Me too," George nodded as the dance ended. They bowed to each other as the members of the Masquerade clapped. Another song started and the dance floor was filled with people.

"There's someone I haven't seen yet tonight," she said to him. "I'll be back!"

"Don't be gone too long," George reminded her as she left the dance floor. Ducking through a door hidden under the stairs, Drista crept through the servants passageways until she came out in a hallway far from the ballroom. It wasn't very ladylike of her to be traveling through those, but they were awfully convenient. After all, she was the queen. She could do whatever she liked.

She walked through the halls, the silence a welcome sound for her ears. Coming up to an old oak door, she knocked softly before pushing it open.

"I didn't say you could come in," Tubbo sighed before realizing it was her. "Oh, hey Drista."

"Why aren't you down at the ball?" she asked, crossing her arms. "I had to dance with George."

"Everyone wants to dance with George," Tubbo said and she rolled her eyes, cracking a smile. "How does he look, by the way? Is he really a sexy swan?"

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