12 Steps Behind

Chapter 3

Once again we leave for the castle at sunset, but this time we're dressed in proper regalia with all the the things we need for our plan in the leather bag at my side. Much to my delight, Fenwick has accepted the fact that I don't like dresses and bought me the blue brocade shirt and navy breeches that I wanted instead. If I make it out of this alive, I'll be SO rich...
Fenwick himself has opted for a doublet of emerald velvet and dark green breeches, with the same old cloak pinned to his shoulders.
Once again the guards let us through without any hesitation, looking at the knight with marked respect. We're led by a footman to the banquet hall, and my mouth nearly falls open: so that's why Fenwick told me to only eat a light lunch. Three trestle tables stretch out before us, each laden with more food than I would've thought possible. Roasted birds of all kinds, meat on spits, enough coloured vegetables to paint a picture with, and bowls of sauce dotted everywhere in which to dip these delicacies. It's all I can do not to start drooling on the spot...
The princesses are already seated at a table at the other side of the hall, with the king at his own special table on a pedestal and a number of other tables filled with other court nobles, busy chattering away and trying to look important. There's just one drawback to all this: there's only one chair open. The footman gestures for me to follow him, no doubt to some meager servant's dinner, but Fenwick holds up his hand.
"Morg will be staying with me, on that I insist."
I can tell it's annoying them, but all the same another chair is brought forth and we settle down in the sea of ball gowns, which take up all the leg space under the table. I end up sitting between Fenwick and one of the older princesses, with hair like a dark cherry and sparkling blue eyes. And there, just across from me and one chair to the right is the youngest princess, with animated eyes and a friendly smile. The princess across from me doesn't seem so happy about me joining, but before she can say anything the King rasies his gem encrusted goblet.
"Good evening all. To begin the night's festivities, a toast to our esteemed guest Fenwick Heathcote of Greville: may you be successful in your endeavors here. Let the feast begin!"
Immediately, over a dozen servants step up to our table, awaiting our food requests. I can hear the other girls asking for specific portions, but hey - I might never eat like this again.
"I'll have a bit of everything please."
A spark comes into the eye of my waiter - I think he's trying not to laugh.
The princess across the table is disgusted
"Really? EVERYTHING? Why are you even eating with us, peasant?"
"Because Morg is in my service, and deserves nice food."
"Oh? And what service is that?"
"Holly..." Azalea warns, leaning forward in her seat beside Fenwick.
"Morg is my page."
An awkward silence falls like a brick.
"She's your page-boy?" Holly smirks, flicking strands of white blonde hair away from her face.
"Yes, and why not? She can do any job a boy could."
"But isn't she old-"
"Holly, that's enough." The red-haired  girl beside me puts in firmly, and shoots me an apologetic smile. "Forgive my younger sister, she's rather forward. I'm Camellia, and this here is little Hazel."
"I'm not so little now, I'm fifteen!" There's that smile again, the one that lights up her light green eyes. "How old are you, Morg?"
Oh by the gods, she's talking to me
"Fifteen." I manage, feeling my cheeks turn red.
"See! It is a respectable age!"
The chatter continues, but I can barely focus. I which is bad, because I'm here to be observant... Shaking myself, I deliberately look away from Hazel and take note of the other princesses. Azalea and Fenwick are talking only to each other, and she's batting eyelashes like anything. Beyond them, all the other girls are chatting and laughing as any would, there's nothing suspicious to see. I try to place faces to all the names and ages.
So Azalea is the eldest at 22, with her sharp cheekbones, raven hair and piercing brown eyes. Next come the triplets at age 21, Lily, Rose, and Camellia: so the latter is the cherry-haired girl beside me, and the other two seem to be sitting next to her. They all have the same beautiful oval faces with sparkling blue eyes, but Lily has long brown hair while Rose has blonde. Then it's obnoxious Holly, 20 years old with catlike features and white blonde hair, followed by the 19 year old twins Poppy and Iris. They're as different as anything: Poppy has carrot coloured hair and freckles on her heart shaped face, while Iris has dark hair and everything about her seems angular. After that it's Lavender at age 18, blonde with wide set blue eyes and pouting lips, then Dahlia who is 17 with golden eyes and strawberry blonde hair. Jasmine and Violet are yet another set of twins, aged 16. They're absolutely identical except for hair colour, as Jasmine's is platinum blonde and Violet's pitch black. And last of all, the fifteen year old Hazel with dark blonde hair and glittering green eyes.
It sounds more like a bouquet than a family.
I eat until I can't possibly hold anymore, although I'm careful to eat it all as politely as I can. The night passes quickly and without any dubious incidents, and soon the court begin filing out of the banquet hall. The princesses rise from their seats, and Fenwick turns to me with a curt nod
"Goodnight Morg, you may now return to our lodgings at the inn."
"Thank you sir, good luck with the quest."
By the gods it sounds so rehearsed, but no one seems to notice. I keep walking until I'm out the palace walls and beyond the sight of the guards, but once I've fished out my bit of magic cloak and secured it to my shoulders it's simply s matter of being quiet as I double back into the palace. Thankfully I was right: even though we tore the cloak in half, the mere act of wearing the fabric makes one completely invisible. I don't know how much time I have, so I try to be as quick as possible as I slip through carpeted passages and up stone staircases. At last I reach the princesses bedchamber, but the door is closed.
"The bathroom is down the hall, you say?" Fenwick's voice is easily discernible.
"Yes, last door on the left."
"Thank you."
The door opens, and I make sure to tread on his foot as I slip the bottle into his pocket and go on into the room. Right by the entrance a bed and a large screen have been set up, shielding the princesses from sight. I sneak a glance around the side, but immediately scramble back blushing: I picked an inappropriate time, such a lot of porcelain skin on display. A short while later Fenwick returns and places the empty bottle on the bed beside him, and I snatch it up just before Azalea appears with a jug in hand.
"Mulled wine?" She offers sweetly, looking completely innocent in her white nightgown.
Yeah, right.
"Certainly!" He smiles straight back, and heartily chugs down a goblet of the stuff. "What a delicious recipe! Thank you, Princess Azalea. I will try to keep you all safe tonight."
"Thank you, kind sir."
And she disappears back behind the screen.
I sit down on the floor, waiting as Fenwick falls asleep and the girls go quiet. Somewhere in the palace, a bell rings eleven times. Azalea and the triplets suddenly reemerge, cautiously approaching the sleeping figure. Camellia gives him a gentle shake at the shoulders.
"He's definitely asleep."
"Weakling. Right, everyone get ready!"
Suddenly the atmosphere in the room changes. Although they were all in nightdresses mere moments ago, they all bring out ball gowns now and start dolling themselves up. I watch as the girls become inhumanly beautiful, and as the bell rings twelve times Azalea checks on Fenwick one last time before she takes her place in the centre of the room, now clad in a dress of black velvet. She murmurs a long incantation, scarcely pausing to breathe, and suddenly the floors before her ripples like water. It jumps and froths, before suddenly giving way to a staircase like molten metal.
I give Fenwick a rough shove and toss him the cloak, which he hastily ties on, and together we watch the princesses descend the magic staircase one by one. Hazel is the last to go, and as the portal looks like it wants to shut we rush in close behind her. I accidentally step on the hem of her yellow dress, causing her to look around in surprise, but she can't see us at all. I grin at Fenwick, relieved we can still see each other, and we follow the rebellious girls' path.
So far, it's all going according to plan.