The carriage, luxuriously sprung and smelling faintly of lavender and honey, bounced gently along the cobbled road leading into the heart of the capital. Inside, Princess Lilliana was practically vibrating with barely contained excitement.
"So, Vi," she began, leaning forward, her light brown eyes sparkling like the sun. "Where did you go last night? Was it truly a man, like I guessed? How does he look? Is he devastatingly handsome? Dark and brooding, or fair and charming? Did he hold your hand? Oh, Vi, did he kiss you?"
Lilliana let out a little squeal, clutching her hands to her chest. "Tell me everything! Don't you dare leave out a single, solitary detail! I need to live vicariously!"
Viviana regarded the princess with an amused, patient smile. "Lily, dear, do take a breath before you explode."
Lilliana took an exaggerated gulp of air. "Okay, breath taken! Now, spill! My ears, my eyes, my very soul – all are primed and waiting for the juicy information!" She wiggled her fingers expectantly.
Viviana sighed, an exaggerated sound. "Yes, Your Highness, I attempted to go to a ball."
"Yes!" Lilliana pumped a small fist in victory. "I knew it! I have excellent instincts! So, who is he? What's his name? Is he a Lord? A Duke, perhaps? Or maybe a knight?"
Viviana chuckled. "There's no 'he,' Lily. And certainly no dukes or knights. I couldn't even get past the front door. Turns out," she said, affecting a tone of mild disappointment, "one actually needs an invitation for such grand events. Apparently, a stern look and an air of importance are not suitable substitutes. The guard, a rather large fellow with an impressive scowl, promptly sent me packing. It was all very… futile."
Lilliana's smile faltered, then curved into a skeptical smirk. "Is that so, Vi? Just turned away at the door like a common street urchin? How utterly… uneventful for someone of your particular talents." She eyed Viviana knowingly, clearly not believing a word of the mundane tale but sensing it was all she would get for now. "Well, his loss, then!"
As they neared the town center, their carriage route took them past the grand stone walls and imposing gates of the Valerius estate. An unusual amount of activity was visible even from the road. Several guards stood at the entrance, more than usual, and a sombre-looking black carriage, its curtains drawn, was just pulling away from the main drive. Servants could be seen hurrying about with downcast eyes, and a general air of mourning hung over the property.
"Oh my!" Lilliana exclaimed, pressing her face closer to the carriage window. "Look over there, Vi! That's the Valerius estate, isn't it? Goodness, what on earth has happened here? It looks terribly serious. Do you think someone important is visiting?"
Viviana's gaze flickered towards the scene, her expression carefully neutral. "Goodness, I wonder," she murmured, feigning a mild concern. "I do hope everyone is quite alright." She made a mental note: the body was being removed. Efficient.
The carriage soon left the Valerius estate behind and rumbled into the bustling heart of the town. They pulled up before an elegant shopfront, its tastefully painted sign reading: "Madame Dubois - Robes et Modes." A little bell tinkled charmingly as Captain Albert, their escort, opened the carriage door and then the shop door for them.
Inside, the shop was a haven of silks, laces, and velvets in every conceivable colour. Several ladies, already Browse through bolts of fabric or admiring gowns on mannequins, turned and offered respectful curtsies or nods as the Princess entered. Madame Dubois herself, a chic woman of middle years with an artfully arranged hairstyle, bustled forward from the back of the shop, her taffeta skirts rustling.
"Your highness! And Lady Viviana!" she exclaimed, her French accent warm and welcoming as she executed a deep, graceful curtsy. "Such an 'onour! Welcome, welcome to my humble establishment!"
"Madame Dubois!" Lilliana greeted her with genuine delight, returning the curtsy with a less formal dip. "I heard the new collection is simply to die for! Is it true?"
Madame Dubois placed a hand over her heart. "Ah, Your highness, gossip travels faster zan ze wind, especially ze good gossip, non? But yes, it is true. It is magnifique! I 'ave already set aside some pieces I just know you will adore. Especially for you, and for your lovely lady-in-waiting." She gave Viviana a knowing wink.
Lilliana let out a joyful, though suitably subdued, shriek of anticipation. "Lead the way, Madame! We are entirely in your capable hands!"
As Madame Dubois guided them towards a more private salon at the rear of the shop, Viviana, her senses always alert, couldn't help but overhear snippets of hushed, excited conversation from a group of ladies clustered near a display of feathered fans.
"Did you hear what happened to poor Lord Collin Valerius last night?" whispered a woman with an elaborate feathered hat, her voice carrying despite her attempt at discretion.
"My dear Clarissa," replied another, a slightly younger woman Viviana mentally tagged as 'Lizzy,' her voice dripping with importance. "I didn't just hear, I saw it with my own two eyes! I was at the Valerius masquerade. It was dreadful! Absolutely terrifying! I had goosebumps all over, I tell you! Such a scandal!"
A third lady, plumper and adorned with rather too many pearls, leaned in. "But who was that lady with him? The one in the crimson dress? She seemed to appear from nowhere! What was her name?"
Lizzy preened slightly at being the center of attention. "Lady Cassandra, I believe they announced. From the house of Beaumont. Quite striking. No one seemed to know her."
Clarissa, the feathered-hat lady, gasped. "I heard she simply vanished when all the commotion started! Right when Lord Collin was… well, fighting for his life! How peculiar, right? Like a ghost!"
The plump, pearled lady lowered her voice even more, her eyes darting around conspiratorially. "Well, my cousin's maid, who is friendly with a footman at the Valerius estate, heard a most shocking rumour! They say this Lady Cassandra… she might be an impostor! That the real Lady Cassandra of Beaumont hasn't returned to the kingdom yet! She is supposed to be visiting relatives in pangeria!"
A collective, scandalized gasp went through the small group. Hands flew to mouths. "An impostor? Mon Dieu! At such a prestigious ball!"
Madame Dubois, overhearing the rising tide of excited chatter, turned briefly. "Ladies, ladies! S'il vous plaît!" she called out, her voice firm but polite. "A little decorum, eh? We are not at ze market square!" She clapped her hands lightly, and the gossiping ladies, looking slightly abashed, dispersed with feigned sudden interest in various fabric bolts and lace trims.
Viviana hid a small smile. News certainly traveled fast in the capital.
Madame Dubois ushered them into a plushly appointed private salon, lit by a large window overlooking a small, walled garden. And there, examining a length of sapphire blue silk, were Lady Penelope, Lilliana's notoriously catty cousin, and her two equally unpleasant sisters, Hilda and Nora.
Lilliana stopped dead in her tracks. "Oh, for goodness sake," she muttered under her breath. Then, louder, with a distinct sneer colouring her tone, "Penny. What an unfortunate coincidence."
Lady Penelope, a tall young woman with a perpetually disdainful expression, turned with feigned surprise. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Her Royal Highness, gracing us with her… luminous presence." She smirked at her sisters, Hilda and Nora, who tittered obediently. "Girls," Penelope instructed, her voice overly sweet, "let's show our dear cousin the proper respect."
The three of them executed exaggerated, synchronized curtsies that were a mockery of respect. "Good morning, Your Highness," their voices echoed, the mockery as thick as syrup.
Lilliana's cheeks flushed a dangerous shade of pink. Her hand, holding a delicate lace fan, tightened, and she lifted it, clearly intending to deliver a satisfying whack to Penelope's smug face. Viviana's hand shot out, catching Lilliana's wrist in a firm but gentle grip halfway through the motion. She gave a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of her head, her eyes conveying a silent warning: Not worth it. Don't sink to their level.
Lilliana took a deep, steadying breath, visibly reining in her temper. She lowered her fan, her posture becoming regally composed. "I find," she said, her voice cool and clear, "that I have little time or inclination to receive and reciprocate false greetings. And I certainly won't allow your… predictable and tiresome behavior to spoil what promises to be a lovely morning." With that, she opened her own fan with an elegant, dismissive flourish and wafted it gracefully as she glided past them towards a display of embroidered silks, her chin held high. Viviana couldn't help but smile with subtle pride at the Princess's composure.
Penelope, however, was not one to be so easily dismissed. Her face tightened with wounded pride, and she opened her mouth, clearly about to unleash a cutting retort or perhaps even attempt a clumsy, "accidental" shove as Lilliana passed.
Viviana, anticipating this with a sigh, moved with deceptive casualness. As she followed Lilliana, she "accidentally" brought her heel down with considerable force squarely onto Lady Penelope's elegantly slippered right foot.
"Ouch!" Penelope yelped, her voice sharp with genuine pain and indignation. "You clumsy oaf! You are stepping on my shoe! Watch where you're going!"
Viviana, still applying pressure, leaned in close, her fan artfully shielding her face from the others. Her voice, when it came, was a chilling whisper, soft as silk but laced with deadly intent, directly into Penelope's ear. "Try anything, anything at all to upset the Princess further today, Penny, and I will personally ensure you never walk straight again, let alone wear these pretty little shoes. You'll be hobbling on stumps. Am I perfectly clear?" The use of the diminutive "Penny" was delivered with a cold precision that made the girl flinch.
Then, just as quickly, Viviana pulled back, her expression transforming instantly into one of wide-eyed, innocent apology. Her voice was bright and cheerful, full of concern. "Oh, my goodness, Lady Penelope! I am so dreadfully sorry! Forgive my utter clumsiness, I didn't see where I was placing my feet at all! Are you quite alright? Did I hurt you terribly?"
Penelope stared at Viviana, her mouth agape, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock, pain, and a dawning, horrified understanding. She instinctively rubbed her crushed toes through the thin satin of her slipper, utterly speechless. The color had drained from her face, leaving her looking pale and shaken. Hilda and Nora looked on, confused by Penelope's sudden silence and visibly distressed appearance.
"She's… she's completely unhinged," Penelope finally muttered under her breath, just loud enough for her sisters to hear, shrinking back slightly as Viviana passed. "Utterly mad."
Madame Dubois, who had tactfully busied herself rearranging a display of ribbons during the brief but charged encounter, now clapped her hands together brightly.
"Now, Your highness! Lady Viviana!" she chirped, beaming as if nothing unusual had occurred. "Let us forget all ze small unpleasantness and focus on ze beautiful gowns, non? I 'ave such wonders to show you today! It will lift ze spirits, I promise!"
Lilliana, now positively beaming, linked her arm through Viviana's, giving her a discreet but grateful squeeze. "Yes, Madame! Let the wonders commence!"