TRIAL AND ERROR | short stories + snippets

Best Friend Fantasy Adventure: Pirates and Princesses, pt 3

The Master of Ceremonies inspects the forged invitation that Dorcas gave them before they left The White Varlet, which is apparently what the ship is called. He doesn't take issue with the invite but when he looks up from it, it's obvious that he's not impressed by Diwa, even with the gown Madhukar enchanted for her.

"Where is your husband, miss?"

Diwa bristles. "My husband?"

"Or your father. It is quite unusual for a woman to enter such a gathering unaccompanied."

Cece cuts over her before she can get them kicked out. Incredibly strange for him to have to be the one for restraint.

"He'll be here soon," they say. "He had some business to take care of, so he told the madam to come ahead. You know, women and their nagging."

A gross smile carves out his mouth and he nods. The Master of Ceremonies gestures for them to enter, announcing Diwa's arrival to the uninterested partiers already filling up the ballroom.

Ballroom. Never in her life did she think she would set foot in a ballroom.

"When we get out of here," Cece says once the pair are halfway down the stairs, "please punch me in the face. I mean," they add, "you do nag a lot, I will not take that back, but woman's got nowt to do with."

"Maybe it's not that I nag but that you need to be nagged."

"Hmmm... No, I reckon you're just annoying."

Cece casts her a grin. Madhukar decided to leave the grills in his canines that turn them vampiric. Suits the whole bodyguard storyline they've gone for.

Cece makes sure to follow at a respectable distance from Diwa as they're cosplaying at very different levels of society so it'd be 'inappropriate' to walk beside her. He stays close enough for them to be able to whisper to each other as they meander through the crowd.

Diwa smiles and greets the guests who make direct eye contact with her. She accepts finger foods trayed around by the wait staff and admires the ballroom. The king sits on a throne at the centre of a long table full of food.

It really is gorgeous. The floor and the ceiling both depict intricate murals. Enormous windows line two walls, the other two decorated with a gold floral motif carved into the stone.

"That must be it," Cece whispers. Following their line of sight, Diwa finds a door masked almost perfectly into the wall.

Dorcas had told them that there was a door into the display room from the ballroom but that it was always kept locked. She said they'd have better chances using the main doors but that those would require them to exit the ballroom, which might be difficult to do without looking suspicious.

"Are you here all by yourself, princess?"

The voice makes Diwa nauseous. If she's ever called princess again, she might throw up. Or punch whoever says it in the face.

She doesn't feel any better when she turns around. The man leering at her sure as hell doesn't inspire an air of comfort.

His hair is dark, eyes green, and he's dressed in incredibly intricate clothes. Something about him reminds her of something else but she couldn't say what. Maybe creepy men just have the same demeanour across every world.

"I'm not a princess," she says, face scrunched, then remembers that she's meant to be undercover. "My husband is running late."

"Have we met before?" he asks. "I fear I do not recognise you."

She forces herself to maintain eye contact. It's a lot more difficult than she expected to lie while trying to speak in this weird old-fashioned high society way. "Perhaps when we were younger. I haven't had the privilege of such an occasion in quite a few years. My name is Diwana, from the Numore Dynasty."