News of the assassination attempt on Princess Zara quickly spread through the Kingdom of Maris. While the princess was not harmed, she was incredibly shaken, or so the reports from the palace hinted.
Naturally, the rumors grew wilder and wilder by the day, to the point no one was entirely sure what had happened at the palace.
Some said a poisonous snake was hiding in one of her soap dishes and the young princess just nearly missed its fangs as the little monster leapt out at her. One of Lady Catarina’s friends insisted that a masked assailant leapt through the window while Princess Zara was resting, brandishing an ax. The most popular theory was that one of the servants had been paid to sneak in and stab her while she was in the bath.
In an attempt to make it seem as if nothing was out of the ordinary, Queen Merle announced that the welcome home for Princess Zara was going ahead as planned. Lily couldn’t decide if it was for the benefit of Princess Zara, or for the people.
Still, Lily would get to wear her new dress, which Madame Florez had finally finished, and the food at the palace was always incredible.
Mamma was usually in good spirits after several glasses of wine, so Lily would be free to wander about and eat as she wished.
This was to be her first ball at the palace, and she couldn’t wait.
“Lily, would you stop eating,” Lady Catarina chastised over breakfast the morning before the ball. “That dress is tight enough on you as it is.”
Lily felt her cheeks sting, but she finished her helping of waffles anyways, sending a dirty glare down the table towards her mother.
“Oh leave her be,” Lord Wright said from behind his paper, The Maris Times. “A healthy appetite is nothing to get worked up about.”
Lady Catarina pursed her lips in obvious disagreement. “The ball is tomorrow. If she gains weight we won’t have time to let the seams out.”
Lily took another bite of her waffles, savoring the flavor and her mother’s turmoil.
“She’ll just have to dance extra hard,” Lord Wright said, giving his daughter a playful wink to which she choked on her waffle.
“Papa,” she said indignantly between coughs into her napkin, ignoring her mother’s disapproving stare.
Lord Wright laughed. “Come now my dear, you must have some suitor who caught your eye, pretty little thing like you. Why when your mother was presenting, I had to beat my way through all of her suitors with a stick.”
From a quiet corner of the room, one of the servants whispered to another just out of earshot. “More like with your coin purse.”
Lily, who was closest, heard and couldn’t help but let out a very undignified snort.
“She’s not out yet,” Lady Catarina reminded her husband, pointedly ignoring her daughter now. “She still has a few more months.”
It was actually a miracle that Lily was allowed to go to the ball at all. Normally, young ladies and gentlemen were supposed to be presented at court before they could start engaging in events like the ball.
Lily supposed since she and Princess Zara were so close in age it was easy enough to overlook. The princess herself had only just turned eighteen during her time held captive in Hycernia after all.
Lily couldn’t help but feel for the princess. Having to witness that terrible ordeal with Princess Neve, being held captive for weeks and then nearly being killed the second she returned home. Now she was being forced to attend a party as if nothing had happened. The entire thing sounded dreadful. As excited as she was for the ball, Lily doubted she’d be as excited if she’d nearly died less than a week prior.
The day of the ball, Lily was quickly becoming less and less excited. Her mother had all but forbidden her from eating anything more than bone broth, and she was absolutely starving, which in turn made her rather grumpy.
She’d also been forced to sit in a chair all day as Gizelle washed and styled her hair.
Lily winced as her governess yanked one strand particularly hard. “I’m not even out yet. Why do we have to go through so much trouble. No one’s even going to be looking at me.”
Behind her, Gizelle tutted. “You never know who you’re going to meet at these balls. For all you know, you could meet your future husband tonight.”
“You’re as bad as Papa,” Lily said, her eyes water as her hairs were twisted into a tight updo.
After her hair was finished, Lily thought she was finished, but Gizelle’s hand stilled her when she tried to rise from the chair.
“Not yet,” Gizelle said, wagging a finger at her. She left the room and came back with a box of colorful glass jars and bottles. Beauty enhancers and cosmetics.
“Turn and face me,” Gizelle instructed, picking a small jar in cerulean blue and holding it up to Lily’s face. She frowned before shaking her head and putting the jar back without a word.
“Do you think I’ll finally get to meet the princess tonight?” Lily asked while Gizelle sorted through the box.
“Perhaps,” Gizelle said with a shrug. “It would be a good opportunity to present yourself as a lady-in-waiting.”
“She was nearly murdered five nights ago,” Lily pointed out, reaching out to take one of the jars but Gizelle smacked her hand away. Frowning up at her and rubbing her hand, she continued, “I highly doubt she’ll be conducting interviews.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Gizelle said, holding out a red bottle and nodding to herself. She uncorked it and poured a shimmery, white liquid onto the palm of her hand.
The pair were silent as Gizelle began to smear the liquid onto Lily’s face before grabbing another bottle and dipping what looked to be a paint brush in it, bringing it to the young girl’s face.
Gizelle began making circular brush strokes up and down Lily’s face, the latter trying not to giggle as the fine hairs tickled her nose. The edge’s of the governess’s lips tugged slightly.
“Keep still,” she said softly, switching the brush out and taking another coated with a rosy, pink powder, tapping it gently into the apples of Lily’s cheeks.
“I’m trying.”
She wasn’t. Her excitement for the ball was getting the better of her. Despite all of her protests at her father’s teasing, Lily was hoping to get to dance with some men tonight. Plus, getting to sneak all of those pastries at the refreshments table was worth all of the primping and priming.
Finally, Gizelle coated her lips in petal pink.
“There, now you look almost presentable,” she teased as she stepped back and admired her work.
Turning in her chair, Lily’s heart leapt at the sight of her reflection. Looking back at her was a stunning young woman, hair done up in intricate braids wrapped around a bun, cheeks as rosy as a flower. She’d never felt so beautiful.
It was time to put her dress on. Lily slipped her corset over her chemise, waiting patiently while Gizelle did up the lacings. Graciously, the latter didn’t pull the strings too tight.
The dress was an off-the-shoulder piece tailored from dark teal silk with a fitted bodice. Little water lilies were beaded along the bottom of the skirt, depicting a pond scene. There was even a little frog sitting on one of the lily pads.
When she descended the stairs to meet her parents, her mother gasped.
“Oh Lily, you look so beautiful,” Lady Catarina gushed. Lily felt herself beam, until her mother added, “I knew fasting would be a good idea. Look how small your waist is.”
Beside his wife, Lord Wright rolled his eyes.
“You are a vision, my darling girl,” he said kindly, holding out his arm for her to take. “The court won’t know what hit them.”
The court, Lily decided, was incredibly boring.
She’d been practically bouncing in her seat as she rode with her parents in their carriage towards the palace, sticking her head out the window to take in the sights despite her mother’s protests. Her stomach rolled with delight as they rode through the golden gates of the palace into the atrium of marble and palm.
The air smelled of citrus and the sea, with a hint of blanchard apple cider wafting about. The torches had been lit, casting the courtyard in an ambery glow. Men in finely tailored suits and women in trumpeted gowns ascended up the palace steps.
Lily followed her parents into the palace, the former marveling at the splendor of it all. The golden filigree crown moldings that trickled up the walls and across the ceilings. The chandeliers were embellished with tiny crystal water lilies.
Stepping into the ballroom, the party was already well on its way. Couples twirled about the room on the dance floor in blurs of color. An orchestra sat upon a dial towards the back of the room, the jaunty melody causing Lily’s heartbeat to quicken. The queen and her consort sat upon their thrones, surrounded by laughing nobles. There was no sign of Princess Zara, but the room was so crowded that Lily figured she had to be there somewhere.
As soon as she walked into the room, a young man with tawny skin like the princess stepped forward, offering his hand to Lily. Without even a glance back at her parents, she accepted and let herself be dragged into the center of the room, smiling up at the stranger leading her in dance.
That had been nearly two hours before. Now, Lily stood with a drink in hand by a refreshments table, stuffing pork pastries into her mouth and washing them down with blanchard cider.
The man she’d been dancing with had been the son of a duke, and incredible dullard. All he wanted to talk about were his horses. How he was breeding them, what he was doing to care for them, which of them would most likely win at the next race. Lily liked horses, but not that much.
After that had been the son of a visiting diplomat, who stepped repeatedly on her toes and kept getting her name wrong.
“Hiding out by the food?” a lofty voice said, and Lily turned to see Lady Anya coming up beside her. Lady Anya was the daughter of a lord, just like Lily. She was pale, with golden blond hair and hazel eyes. Tonight she wore a gown of fuschia with black pinstripe and lace detailing.
“Taking a break,” Lily said, mouth still full of pastry. Little bits flew out of her mouth and stuck to her lips. Nervously, she wiped her mouth and looked around to ensure her mother hadn’t seen.
Lady Catarina was thankfully nowhere to be seen.
“Awfully boring set,” Anya said, swirling the contents of her drink. “Princess Zara doesn’t even appear to be here.”
“She skipped out of her own ball?” Lily asked incredulously. She looked around to see if she could spot the princess, but there were too many people. “Are you sure you haven’t just missed her?”
Anya picked up one of the pastries from the table. “I’ve been around the room four times and haven’t seen her.” She popped the pastry into her mouth, scanning the room once more.
“Perhaps she just wants to be fashionably late,” Lily said with a shrug.
“Or perhaps even she thinks this whole thing is a shame and thought not to come,” Anya said briskly. “Who thought it was a good idea to throw a ball right after two princesses were nearly killed is beyond me. Everyone is wound so tight I think the entire room might snap in half.”
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
Looking around, Lily did feel the tension in the room. People were smiling a little too brightly, eyes wandering up towards the queen and prince, all questioning where the princess was but not wanting to be the one to ask.
“Want to get out of here?” Anya asked, turning to Lily. “There’s this bar I discovered with Priya a few weeks back. We were thinking about going there tonight while our mammas are too sloshed to realize we’re gone.”
Lily’s stomach coiled. If her mother and father found out she left the ball to go to some sketchy bar, she’d never hear the end of it. It would certainly be a long time until she was allowed to attend another ball. But this one was so dreadfully dull.
Setting her glass down, she turned back to Anya. “Yeah, alright.”
Thirty minutes later, Lily followed Anya and Priya, a girl with dark skin and tight, curly hair, into what might be considered a bar. Considerably smaller than the palace ballroom, the bar was made of stone and aged wood, both a color somewhere between brown and gray. The air smelled sour, and it was so crowded that an uncomfortable heat stagnated between the patrons.
Despite all of this, the energy in the room was significantly more pleasant. All around, men and women were huddled in small groups, laughing and throwing back tankards of alcohol. In a small corner, a man sat on a stool playing a fiddle, and groups of people were dancing in circles.
Lily looked down at her gown and back at the other patrons. She was very overdressed, with everyone else wearing shabby, linen clothing in shades of brown.
“Step aside princess,” a large man with a mustache said, picking Lily up with one arm and placing her off to the side, his other hand clutching a tray of drinks. Lily gave a little squeal as she was hoisted into the air.
Anya and Priya laughed.
“Come on,” Priya said, grabbing her hand and dragging her farther into the bar. “Let’s get a drink.”
There were no wine choices on the menu, and the closest drink Lily recognized was cider, though the glass she was handed didn’t taste like the blanchard apple cider she’d been enjoying earlier.
“How are we going to pay for these?” Lily asked, realizing she hadn’t brought any money.
“Just wait,” Priya said with a grin. A moment later, a young man stumbled up to the bar. “One lager my good sir,” he said to the woman behind the counter, who rolled her eyes and gave him what he’d asked for. The man turned and looked at Lily and her companions. “And whatever these ladies are having.”
The man slammed several silver coins onto the counter before stumbling off. Lily blinked after him.
“What just happened?” she asked, watching his back retreat into the crowd.
Anya picked up her own drink. “If you wait long enough, someone will buy you a drink. The benefit of being a pretty girl in a fancy dress.”
“And what a fancy dress these are indeed,” another male voice said behind them. Turning, Lily’s jaw dropped open.
“You,” she said in disbelief. It was the same boy from outside the atelier a few weeks back, the one who’d stolen her bracelet.
His black eye was healing nicely, making his handsome face less gruesome. His gray-blue eyes twinkled in the dim lights, and the gap between his two front teeth seemed more prominent.
“You don’t recognize me, do you?” Lily asked, looking him up and down with disdain.
The man gave her an odd look. “Did I take you out and forget to call on you the next day?”
Lily rolled her eyes. “Most certainly not.”
“Didn’t think so,” the man said, giving her a lazy grin as he settled up beside the counter. He paused to order himself an ale. “You’re more decorated than the girls I normally take out.”
Lily didn’t doubt that.
“You stole my bracelet,” she said darkly. “Outside of Madame Florez’s atelier a week ago.”
The man frowned at her, looking her up and down as if trying to recall the memory. Suddenly he burst out laughing. “That was you? You sure clean up nicely.”
Lily smacked him on the arm.
“Oww.”
“May I have my bracelet back?” she asked, holding her hand out.
“I probably pawned it already,” the man said, rubbing his arm. “Man’s gotta eat, you know. Besides, you probably have an entire drawer full of them.”
“That’s not the point -” she began, but once he was given his drink, he tossed a few coins the bartender's way and wandered off. “Hey, wait!”
Not bothering to see if Anya and Priya followed, she stalked him through the crowd. The man looked over his shoulder and laughed again.
“I can’t get it back for you, princess,” he said. “Run back to mommy and daddy now.”
Lily felt her cheeks heat. She opened her mouth to retort, when a hand grabbed her from behind. Whirling around, she came face to face with a tall, sleazy looking man with greasy black hair.
“Well aren’t you pretty,” the man slurred, hand dropping below her waist and squeezing her backside. She yelped and smacked his hand away.
“Get away from me,” she snapped, pushing him away from her. The man all but leered at her.
“Don’t be like that, pretty,” he said, coming closer and grabbing her arm. “What’s say you and I go have a dance?”
Lily tried to tug her arm free, but the man’s grip was like a python. No matter how much she pulled, she couldn’t break free.
“Hey, the lady said no,” the bracelet thief said, coming up to her side and pushing the man away.
The greasy-haired man stumbled backward, knocking into a group of women who shouted profanities as their drinks spilled to the ground. When the man detangled himself from the throng, he sneered at the thief.
“What you -” he began, but Lily stepped forward and splashed the remainder of her drink in his face. Both men stopped short in shock.
“Time to go,” the thief said, grabbing her hand and pulling her through the crowd. Lily, who couldn’t quite believe she’d just done that, let herself be dragged.
They ran outside into the street.
“Come on,” the thief said, still pulling her along.
Lily began to pull back. “But my friends…”
Suddenly, a shout from behind them caused them to pause. “Hey you! You little bitch!”
Looking back, the greasy-haired man, now covered in alcohol, was racing down the street towards them.
The thief gripped Lily’s hand tight. “Follow me.”
He dragged her through the streets, Lily breathing hard as she struggled to keep up, one hand pulling up the hem of her dress so that she wouldn’t trip on it. They ran past crowds of people who were gathered around.
A stitch in her side was growing more painful by the second, and her heart was beating so hard she was sure it would jump from her chest.
With a glance backwards, she found the greasy haired man still following them, shouting profanities as he ran after them. The sight of his angry, determined face spurred Lily to go on.
Finally, the thief dragged her down an alleyway where he released his grip on her. Bending forward, she struggled to breath, her eyes watering from the pain in her chest. She looked around and found them in a dead end.
“Why did you bring us here?” she asked, but the thief ignored her, instead rapping quickly on a side door she hadn’t noticed before.
“Open up Hodge,” the thief called, his bangs growing louder. A slit in the door slid open, though Lily couldn’t see inside as it was dark.
“What’s the password?” a male voice called cheekily.
“Oh for - Hodge, I’ve got a girl here and we’re both about to get our asses kicked if you don’t let us in.”
Right on que, the greasy haired man came running down the alleyway. “Hey, you little bitch!”
“Now Hodge!” the thief yelled.
“Hodge please!” Lily called, running into between the thief and the door.
From the other side of the door, a lock shifted and suddenly the door swung open. Before Lily could even comprehend what happened, the thief shoved her inside. As soon as they both were past the threshold, the door swung closed behind them and the lock sounded again. Loud banging could be heard from the other side of the door, along with a stream of cursing.
“Wow, what did you do to piss that guy off?” a tall, muscular man with floppy brown hair asked, looking between Lily and the thief.
“She threw her drink in his face,” the thief said, panting as he clutched his side.
“He wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Lily said, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. The tall man, Hodge most likely, laughed.
“I like her already,” he said, extending a hand to her. “The name’s Hodge.”
“Lily,” she responded, taking his hand and almost immediately regretted it as he shook her hand painfully. “And you?” she asked, turning to the thief.
The man grinned at her as he slumped to the floor. “Tate. My name is Tate Thorton.”
Lily followed Tate and Hodge down a set of stairs. They assured her that the man outside wouldn’t be able to get inside, and she was safe to wait until he left.
She was led into a dimly lit room with a small table in the corner, and the rest of the room was stacked with wooden crates.
“What’s in them?” she asked, one hand extended as she went to lift the lid on one. Tate grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the table.
“Best not go poking your pretty head where it doesn’t belong,” Tate said, pulling out a chair and nodding his head toward it. Lily huffed and sat down, the skirt of her dress billowing out in front of her.
Hodge popped one crate open and revealed a bottle of whisky. “Something to pass the time?”
Tate frowned at him. “You know we’re not supposed to tap the merchandise.”
Hodge shrugged. “You know old Cole never checks. You’re not running with the Nightshades anymore.”
Tate sat down at the table and muttered something under his breath that Lily couldn’t catch.
“The Nightshades?” she asked, looking between them.
“Best not go poking your pretty head where it doesn’t belong,” Tate repeated as Hodge popped open the whisky anyways, taking a swing. He handed it to Tate, who despite himself accepted it. He winced as the alcohol burned his throat.
When he offered it to Lily, she shook her head. She’d had enough alcohol for the night.
“I’ve got some cookies,” Hodge offered, pulling a tin down from the top of one of the crates. It was heart-shaped and covered in faded red stripes.
“Hodge, she doesn’t want your cookies,” Tate said, running a hand over his tired face.
Lily lit up at the sight of the tin. “What kind are they?”
Tate gave her an incredulous look.
“Macadamia nut and white chocolate,” Hodge said, giving Tate a smug smirk as he cracked open the tin and handed it to Lily. She grabbed two.
“Oh, these are so good,” she said between mouthfuls. “Did you make them?”
Hodge beamed at her. “I sure did. I like her. Can we keep her?”
Tate rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He took another swing of the whisky. “She’s not a dog. Little miss has a fancy family she needs to get back to.”
At the mention of her family, Lily stilled. She hadn’t thought so far into the evening as to what her parents would say when they realized she’d left the ball.
“Oh, no,” she said, stuffing the rest of her cookie into her mouth. “I’m in trouble.”
“I’ll say,” Tate said, tracing a finger over the top of the whisky bottle. “You have that creep waiting for you outside.”
Lily groaned. “No not that… well, yes, that. But what I mean is my parents are going to kill me.”
“Oh come on,” Hodge said, taking a seat at the table. He placed the tin of cookies in the center and took one for himself, breaking it in half. “It can’t be that bad.”
“You’ve never met my mother,” Lily said darkly.
“You don’t know that,” Hodge said pleasantly, popping one half of his cookie in his mouth. “What’s your mom’s name?”
“Lady Catarina Wright.”
Hodge spewed his cookie out, sending chunks all over the table.
“What the whisky!” Tate yelled, holding it up away from the mess.
Hodge coughed and snatched the bottle from him, taking a great swig. When he finally cleared his throat, he turned back to Lily. “You’re Lord Wright’s daughter.”
“Yes…” Lily said slowly.
“Who?” Tate asked, frowning between them.
“One of the hoity-toitiest families in Girona. Probably in Maris,” Hodge said, giving Lily an awe-struck look. He turned back to Tate. “Where’d you find her?”
“Maxime’s,” Tate said, looking at Lily with great interest. Hodge let out a long, loud whistle.
“What in the world were you doing in Maxime’s?” Hodge asked her.
“Some friends of mine wanted to go,” Lily said with a shrug. “We were at Princess Zara’s welcome home ball, but it was really boring so we left.”
Tate let out a bitter laugh. “Imagine being so rich that even a royal ball isn’t good enough for you.”
“It’s not like that,” Lily exclaimed, her face heating in anger.
“Did you meet the princess?” Hodge asked excitedly. “What’s she like? Do you know what really happened the night she almost… you know?” Hodge made a squelching sound and dragged a finger over his neck.
“She wasn’t even there,” Lily said, reaching out and taking another cookie from the tin.
“Imagine being so rich you ditch your own party that half the kingdom shows up for,” Tate said under his breath.
Hodge threw the other half of his cookie at Tate’s head. It bounced off and onto the table, leaving crumbs in his sandy blond hair.
“Don’t mind him,” Hodge said, helping himself to another cookie as Tate glared at him and shook the crumbs from his hair and shoulders.
“Well, it was sort of rude that she didn’t go to the ball,” Lily admitted. “No one knows why she wasn’t there.”
“Maybe the assassin finally got her?” Tate suggested.
Lily gasped. “That’s a horrible thing to say.”
Tate merrily shrugged.
“You’ll have to excuse my friend here,” Hodge said, nodding towards Tate. “He’s used to running with a tougher crowd.”
“The Nightshades?” Lily guessed.
“I wouldn’t go throwing that name around,” Tate warned her darkly. “Whispers travel fast.”
“But who are they?”
“You’ve never heard of the Nightshades?” Hodge asked in disbelief. “Wow, you are sheltered.”
“It’s a criminal group based out of Auric,” Tate explained. “I used to run some minor jobs for them. Mostly breaking and entering.”
“Why’d you leave?” Lily asked.
“Job gone bad,” Hodge said, reaching over the table to grab the whisky bottle. Tate hissed at him to hold his tongue, but Hodge waved an unconcerned hand at him. “She’s never even heard of them. I highly doubt she’s going to go talking about Nightshades over tea.”
“I can’t risk Lady Nyx knowing where I am,” Tate said, glaring up at his friend.
“I won’t mention it,” Lily insisted, trying her best to look trustworthy.
An awkward silence hung between the three of them. Lily’s cheeks tingled, unsure of what to say or do next. Then, Hodge reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cards. “Since we’re going to be here awhile, wanna play?”