Blake Saxe-Coburg-Gotha

'I take it the Crown Princess of the British Empire has ordained to spend the rest of the day under the dining table then?' Manfred aired in his usual dry tone upon re-entering the room, Blake still persistent in her search under the furniture.
'Ah Manfred, be a good chap and kindly hand over that bucket. I know I saw the mouse scurrying along here somewhere.' said the sixteen year old royal as she checked under the chairs.
He sighed as he crouched and pushed it beneath the cloth 'At this rate you shall most certainly be late for the ball.'

'Thank you.' she responded, pretending not to have heard him.
'I presume it is pointless reminding you that there's an entire palace of servants who have devoted their careers to attend to this sort of menial task.' the butler spoke.

'Nonsense, how can I be expected to rule the Kingdom and the outer colonies if I can't even catch a common dormouse?'

'I suppose your tenacity should be counted as a virtue, though this sort of behaviour is horridly unladylike. I dread to think what the Queen would make of it.'
'Oh do stop being such a bore Manfred, If I didn't possess photographic evidence I'd swear you'd never had a childhood.'
'In my age children knew the importance of their roles. We strove to fit our place.'
'And so came forth a generation of butlers and housemaids...
Manfred put his arms behind his back 'Quite, well since you've endeavoured to do the servants' work for them I shall leave you to your devices. Try not to bang your head on the table when you see the rodent, I did note how you jumped earlier.'
'Oh be off with you.'

 

Before Manfred exited the dining room a triple knock came rapping upon the door he was heading for, upon opening it the butler found Lady Quenby Windsor standing behind, a long time friend of the princess, no doubt coming to pick her chum up and take her to the ball.
'Good evening Manfred, I hope I'm not interrupting dinner preparations, it's just that I heard Blake might be hereabouts.'
'Lady Windsor your presence is never unwelcome, do come in,' he said as he brought her though 'you'll find the future monarch creasing her dress under the table there.' With that, he closed the door behind him, leaving the young lady perplexed.
'Blake? What in heaven are you doing down there?'
'Quen, isn't it plain to see I'm hunting a mouse?' a voice answered from beneath the plates.                       
Quenby crossed her arms and pause of silence followed before her friend answered truly 'I'm avoiding the suitors' safari, care to join me?'
The Lady huffed, looked over her shoulder and ducked down under the table. When together the maidens looked to be polar opposites, for while Blake was dark in every shade available save her skin, Quenby was as fair haired and blue eyed as any shallow mother could want. Despite their universally appraised beauty, each thoroughly despised how they looked and took great pains in expressing to one another how much they envied their best pal's lot.

 

'You can't just avoid it every week' Quenby scolded as she moved the bucket aside.
'I can and will, all those horrid old men guffawing into their wine glasses as their sons prattle on and on about the topic of the day. It is unbearable.'
'True, but it is also necessary if we are to avoid an arranged marriage, how else are either of us to find husbands besides?'

'Oh I don't know, run through the house of lords naked and see who gives chase.'

Quenby poked her friend's cheek 'That is exactly the kind of talk that makes me worry about your reign to come.'

'Then worry away, when I am Queen girls will marry who they want to, not who they need to.' The young Lady blew out of the side of her mouth at her chum's radical sentiment, before feeling something furry rubbing against her hand 'Blake... is there a....'. The Crown Princess’s expression of sheer terror answered the question before the lady had completed it.

 

Having heard the riotous crashing in the dining room, Manfred returned: the butler stepping into the room of upturned tables to find both girls fiercely clutching each other atop a chair; screaming the dead out of their graves while the mouse that had spooked them looked on in utter bewilderment.