Blake Saxe-Coburg-Gotha Part 3: The Ball

Part
3: The Ball

 

When the maidens stepped out of the carriage and onto the purple
carpet leading from the lamp-lit street to the ballroom door, it was
as if a pair of otherworldly beings had descended among mortals.
Angels to the middle class swarm who had been waiting patiently for
their arrival, Demons to the lesser nobles who had been soaking up
the attention beforehand. Blake wore a white ball gown with black
patterns to match the bleak design of her eyes, while on the other
side of the coin Quenby sported a violet lace dress with
corresponding silk sleeves to compliment her famously bright irises.
In an instant, every capable mouth in the crowd was calling their
names, the knights holding back the newspaper writers, political
activists and fame groupies. Normally Blake would have exchanged
words with a few, but the way Lady Windsor pulled her arm onward told
the princess her best friend was not in the mood to converse with the
subjects.

 

'It's dreadful, the way they hound us.' the blonde tittered once they
were out of earshot.

'Come now, they only do it because they love us so.'

'They love us do they? Well then answer me this: do they love us for
who we are, or do they love us for what we are?'

'For what we are at first, of course. We're too sheltered for them to
know who we are really. But it's like any other relationship, if you
talk to them enough they soon get a feel for your personality...'

'And their perception of you then becomes front page news.'

'A small price to pay for our position surely?'

'Depends on what the headlines are.'

'What reason have you to complain, they call you the Amethyst of
House Windsor.'

'I've learnt from my father's mistakes, you on the other hand have
been slandered on multiple occasions. I'm surprised you still keep a
rapport with any of them.'

'As I say it's a small price to pay, if a few venomous typists wish
to call me queer in character or plain in look for my lack of an
acceptable façade then let them. There are always going to be rotten
apples.'

The lady grinned 'I wish I was as grounded as you,' she placed her
hand over her friend's shoulder 'though perhaps not, the nickname
suits you far better.'

'Blake the real.' she rolled on her tongue 'I'm still not sure
if I like it or not.'

'Well you only need to dedicate your life to one particular thing to
change it, for my part I'm determined to make alter it to the
sociable'.

With that, the girls were welcomed into the grand old building, a
more rock solid pair of friends never having graced its halls before
or since their stay.

 

Ushered in by rows of smart, smiling gentlemen sporting the Cobalt
rose of Lord Damsen, the host of the ball, the young ladies made
their way to the doors of the main hall where Halworth; Damsen's aged
butler greeted them.

'Your majesty, your Ladyship.' he addressed with a bow as the doors
were opened behind him 'As ever I am humbled by your beauty.'

'You are too kind, Halworth.' said Blake with a smile, already
regretting letting Quenby talking her into coming.

'Indeed you are,' Miss Windsor stated with a sharpened tongue 'if
memory serves there was a time when you would only permit me access
to the house if I answered a riddle correctly.'

The shrivelled man grinned, 'I pray you find it in your heart to
forgive an old butler's naughty indulgence my lady.'

Quenby pierced him with her violet eyes, naughty indulgence,
she knew full well that the rotten butler had been ordered to annoy
her by his lord. For the slights exchanged between the Windsors and
the Damsens were numerous in number and often scornful in nature, the
feud of manners dating back to when the two houses had been forced to
disengage in their more physical conflicts by the king following the
schism of 63. Yet with the Crown Princess present, the butler could
not show his disdain for the Amethyst of Windsor, so Quenby took the
opportunity to exact revenge.

 

'Oh but how could I forgive you? It did anger me so, for I was so
young at the time and it does blight my memory even now. How about I
issue a riddle to you for a change?' she said with pleasure 'I
am formless, yet I move nations. Ancient, yet I am born every day.
Invisible, yet you follow me everywhere. What am I?'

The butler thought for a moment 'The ghosts of
our fathers.'

'How quaint, but not all of us follow the
ghosts of our fathers. The answer, dear Halworth: is desire.
Something I'm sure you've been estranged to since you became a
servant.'

With that, the young women took their leave
into the hall, leaving Halworth to frown behind them.

'What was that all about?' Blake asked as they
came upon the balcony.

'Oh just a little game the members of our two
houses play sometimes.'

'More secrets and conspiracy, eh?'

'Nothing so dramatic as that, you're too high
up the food chain to understand.'

 

While they talked the pair looked down onto
ball floor where the taxpayer's money was on show in full force.
Lavish dresses, exotic jewels, priceless furniture, exquisite food
and a fortune's worth of absolutely useless yet sensationally
gorgeous art had all been packed together into the intricately
decorated space, such marvels few men lived to see.

'Well the scenery is lovely as usual, a pity
about the people.' Blake said, beaming to her friend to visibly
disguise the malice of her conversation.

'Be nice.' Quenby told, her face styled with
its own fake smile 'If you want to master the house of lords you must
first master the ball. And more importantly, tonight is one of
potential romance, so turn off that vile wit of yours and be
charming.'

'Oh good they've brought out the band, as if it
wasn't hard enough to hear each other.'

'Blake.'

'I could be out riding now,'

'Blake...'

'or exploring the wood, or scaling the palace
as I used to do.'

'Blake...'

'Or even just reading a book or painting,
anything would be better than this.'

'Stop it, we are not at the palace, we are
here. So put on a stiff upper lip and get bloody sociable.'

The Crown Princess puffed 'Fine, how many do
you have lined up tonight then?'

'Two for you, three for me, that is if Lord
Silver doesn't show up. If he does I shall waylay whatever gent
you're suffering and take you to meet your rake.'

'Splendid...' Blake narrowed her eyes upon the
crowds below 'Oh look, Lady Damsen is actually here.'

'The demon? Where?'

Looking down, Quenby spied her nemesis,
entertaining the usual band of sycophants with her venomous remarks.
Lady Ion 'The Demon' Damsen was the only daughter of Lord Montesque
Damsen and was by wide reputation, the most snobbish, mean and
conniving noble that had ever lived. She was also heartbreakingly
beautiful, with curly, platinum hair, sapphire eyes, and dimples she
didn't deserve, which only added to Quenby's loathing of her.

During the three girl's childhood, Lord Damsen
had attempted to sway his daughter into befriending Blake, with Lord
Windsor admittedly doing the same thing with Quenby. After months of
trying, Damsen finally gave up, the issue lying in the fact that even
at that young age: Ion was a cruel, demanding child, where Blake was
outgoing and quirky. Like everyone else, Ion treated Blake like a
lower form of life, which permanently burned the bridge they could
have shared in later years. On the other hand, Quenby had been a
mischievous and friendly child, who Blake had taken to well, and
indeed: still did. Having endured various bouts of Ion's malice, no
doubt fuelled in part by Lord Damsen's encouragement, Quenby now
regarded the girl as her mortal enemy.

'God I wish this were the era of the schism, I
would take one of these old battle axes off the wall and lay into her
with so much force...'

'Now, now we're being charming remember.' Blake
reminded.

'Yes, you're absolutely right.' said Quenby,
composing herself, before taking Blake's hand 'Come, let us go down
there talk the talk, and then start fishing for the right catch.'

 

The first part of the night was spent bearably
enough, with the girls running into the usual rogues gallery along
the way. There was Baron Zounds, a purveyor of the arts, or more
specifically a purveyor of the arts where there was free food to be
had; whose gluttony, boozing, whoring and all round merriment helped
to propel the stereotype that all fat men were indeed jolly. Also
present was Count Whelpmoore, a famous sword duellist and authority
on the Empire's many campaigns, the cuts inflicted from his many
bouts having gained him the nickname 'The Sore Winner'. And last of
note was Duke Blighter, a comical sort who was infamous for his
inventions, many of which never quite seemed to work.

 

As for the gentlemen Quenby was later
entertained by, Lady Windsor endured an excruciatingly dull talk with
a as of then undiscovered species of book worm on the history of her
great great great grandfather, and a rather distressing 21 questions
with a jack the lad who she suspected had been taken in by the noble
family she'd contacted out of pity, before settling with the shortish
son of Duke Blighter, who despite his evident difficulty in talking
comfortably with a member of the opposite sex, proved surprisingly
amiable and in equal part as amusing as his father.

 

Blake however, was not so fortunate, the first
suitor being the liberal sort to spent his period railing at her
father's actions in the most polite way allowed, and the second,
while earnest enough in his intention to please her, seemed to never
quite unveil his true self under the cloth of proper manners his
parents had probably put on him earlier.

 

Two hours in and Lord Damsen announced it was
time for everyone to dance, the band initiating the proper music in
toe. As was the ritual repeated year after year, all the couples
moved in and exercised the waltz. Looking over to her friend, Blake
saw that Quenby was giggling as she went round with the boy. 'Aw
way to go,Quen.' she thought fondly
before returning to look at her own gentleman, who looked a little
unnerved.

'Are you all right my lord?' she asked as they
went around and around.

'Yes your highness, I mean your royal highness.
It's just I'm not certain I've made the best impression tonight...'

She blushed a little, he hadn't, and mentioning
it made it worse, but she consoled him never the less.

'Don't worry about it, to tell you the truth
I've been rather unreceptive all night.'

'Oh, are perchance you not feeling well?'

She smiled 'I'm feeling fine, it's just that...
well I really hate these gatherings.' she confided in him.

'You hate them?' he said, a little alarmed.

'Yes, the noise, the heat, the forced
conversation. No offence.'

'None taken... well: a little taken.'

Her smile doubled 'It just seems like such a
show of façades, the people in here rarely show who they really are,
do you know what I mean?'

'Yes I suppose I do see where you're coming
from.'

'But don't tell Quenby I told you any of this,
she's made it her mission to groom me into a socialite.'

'Quenby?'

'Lady Windsor, over there.' she said, nodding
in the direction of her friend.

'Oh. The one in the purple dress dancing with
the smaller chap?'

'Yes.' she set her jet eyes back on her suitor
'Sorry my lord, this just isn't really my scene.'

For the first time all night he let a grin slip
from his lips 'I'm relieved in a way, no disrespect meant to your
royal highness, but I was slightly pushed into joining you tonight.'

'Parents?'

'Precisely, what's best for the family and all
that.'

'I thought as much, it seems we're all doing
what's best for our families nowadays... but hurrah, since we are not
compatible, we can be firm friends instead. I hear your father owns a
shooting range, I have need of some fire arms training for the mouse
that has been terrorizing the palace. As for you, well: what would
you want in return?'

'I uh, I'm not quite sure... actually now that
you come to mention it I have always taken delight in viewing
pictures of the royal gardens, for not having access to them myself.'

'Then it is a deal, you teach me to shoot and
I'll give you a grand tour of the back yard. Oh and I smidgen of
advice my lord, next time you wish to entertain a lady, assuming you
are genuine in your interest of course, do try to access her hobbies.
Many of us take great passions in our chosen field, so much so that
we may go a full half hour talking with no need of the gentleman's
assistance.'

'Is that so... yes: it seems rather obvious now
that you put it to me. Pray tell what is your hobby?'

'I paint scenes from books I've read and-'.
However, before she could continue, the song came to an end, all
parties coming to a stop and bow.

 

Free from the captivity of dance Quenby came
over to show off her new prize, all smiles and sparkles.

'Blake dear you must listen, Yun was just
telling me how he tried to catch a duck using one of his father's
motorized boats and ended up spooking the whole flock into the
trees.' the blond giggled, completely forgetting to introduce anyone.

'Hmph, I should be glad to hear such a strange
tale. Lord Sunder, this is Lady Windsor, Quenby to all that know
better.'

Recovering a little, Quenby took part, shaking
the man's hand 'Charmed, Yun this Crown Princess Saxe-Coburg-Gotha,
as if you didn't already know. Known as Blake to her father and
myself. Blake, this is Yun, who we have already agreed will go by no
other name than that'

'It is an honour your royal highness.' he
greeted slightly nervously with a handshake.

'Likewise, so do tell us this tale, Yun. It
sounds jolly well interesting.'

'Yes, why ever we're you chasing a duck old
bean?' Lord Sunder asked, bemused.

'Well, my father had himself convinced that
this motorised boat he'd constructed would move so quietly and
precisely that no creature in the water could detect it. Being the
cynical fellow I am, I bet him that if we took it out to the lake, he
couldn't get a duck into the boat. Balderdash he says. My boat is infallible, I've
nabbed smaller things than ducks on the test runs.
A fact I'm still not certain is true to this day, but anyway. For
a real bet, it would be you who had to catch the duck. That way, I'll
prove not only is my design perfect, but that even a novice can use
it. So there I am, motoring on in
this craft I've only just learnt how to use, and fair dues to the old
man, the engine is quiet, not so quiet as so no creature can detect
it, but quiet enough. So I keep trying to get at these ducks, with
father giving encouragement on the shore, when all of a sudden I here
the engine groaning terribly. I get up to examine the thing, then out
of nowhere the boat speeds up tenfold! Scaring all the ducks into a
frenzy, and sending me to the decks, before I know it the boat in
going in circles, forcing the birds to stay in the air for fear of
getting hit by the thing and I'm going green in the face, all the
while my father is shouting and jumping about on land, issuing
instructions I can't here. Eventually the boat ran out of gas, saving
me, but I'm afraid to say the ducks have been afraid to go back in
the water ever since.'

All in the party laughed at the absurd tale,
with Quenby evidently the most smitten with the character telling it,
it was only when their own chuckling died down did they realise
someone else was laughing, though in a far harsher manner than they
had been.

Looking round, they saw that Ion was standing
by, seemingly cackling at Yule rather than at his story.

Wiping her eyes, she entered the conversation
uninvited 'I never realised how amusing you lower nobles could be,
but then again failure is inherently funny.'

Quenby clenched her teeth 'Lady Damsen, I'm
surprised to see you attending one of your father's balls. Don't they
usually clash with the sessions in front of your mirror?'

'I made an exception tonight, which is much
more than I can say for your dress. But tell, me: which riddle did
Halworth ask you tonight? I always did cherish how heated you got
when you answered them wrong.'

'I asked Halworth a riddle actually, it seems
his courage faded in the presence of Blake.'

'Well, we don't hire the help for their back
bone, just to keep the riff raff out.'

'And keep the serpents in, apparently.' she
snapped.

'Oh so feisty, and in front of your gentleman
friend as well. Mind you...' she scaled Yule's height with her hand
'If you were to be married you'd need a masculine presence about the
house, this one is about two feet short.'

'My word!' Yun stated, taken aback by the
malice filled creature.

Seething, Qunby made to attack Ion, but Blake
held her back.

'Come come, ladies' Lord Sunder tried to calm
them 'This is an event of gaiety, there's no need for-'

'Lord Sunder you are a child, so be a good
little boy and speak when you are spoken to.' Ion cut in, disarming
him.

Blake frowned 'I think it you how has said
quite enough tonight Lady Damsen. Why don't you go and talk with your
friends?'

'Friends? What friends does the demon have?'
Quenby spat.

Ion just smiled 'Why should I go anywhere, I'm
having fun here.'

'Very well then: I insist you leave.' Blake
stated more sternly.

'You insist do you?' she questioned in an icy tone 'You think just because you're
the Crown Princess you have the right to order me about in my own
house? Such arrogance, but what more can you expect from a royal. You
think you're better than me don't you?'

'Yes, but that has nothing to do with class.'

'Hah, a outright lie if I ever heard one. If
things were in their rightful place I would be the heir, and you...
you'd just be another plain commoner.'

At this, Blake let go of Quenby and stepped
forward herself. The pair now face to face, Ion's mouth returned to a
carnivorous grin. 'What are you going to do, strike me? With all
these fine people here to see you do it? Go on, see if you could live
it down, princess.'

Blake smiled 'Just as well, I've been looking
for my first royal scandal.' With that, she balled a fist and punched
Ion square in the face, who's body was so used to feinting on
command, got knocked out from the blow immediately. Upon the Lady's
toppling to the floor, all noise in the ballroom proceeded to cease,
including the band. Blake left the place shortly after, rubbing her
knuckle with Quenby catching up after she'd notified Yun she'd call
him.

Five feet from the front door Lord Montesque
called after them, having found his daughter lying with a bloodied
nose he declared they'd never attend another social in their lives.

'That's all right,' Blake called back 'I hate
these bloody balls.'