Arriving back at the palace, Aurora was almost immediately whisked to her wardrobe to begin preparations for the ball. The girl was becoming accustomed to her tall shoes and make-up for official functions, and she was coming to enjoy the womanly figure that her dresses created. When the ladies had finished, the Empress examined their handiwork. The gown was purple and billowing, giving the girl a tiny waist. For once Aurora had put her foot down and requested a gown in a color other than blue or white. The dressmaker had raised her eyebrows but said nothing.
"You look radiant," Anna told her.
"I do, Anna. Thank you." Aurora wasn't vain, but she did like how she looked tonight.
"Your Majesty, the Emperor Consort is here to escort you to the ball."
Aurora went to the door to find Devrim standing handsomely in his wide trousers and royal dress-coat. He was to be thirteen the next month, but with the care of his entourage, he appeared every bit of twenty. It was strange and a little funny, but then again nothing about their lives was normal.
Devrim offered his arm, and the lady took it gladly. The grand ballroom was large. It was said that half the population of Valiant could be dancing in the room and there would still be space to spare. While this was an exaggeration, it wasn't by much. Different levels in the room gave various musical groups the opportunity to showcase their talents to dancers and onlookers. Aurora and Devrim were announced, and they took their seats in thrones placed on the highest platform in the room.
Extravagant food lined the walls, and at her request, samples of the delicacies were offered to the royal couple. Grape juice was also brought that looked like wine. The two were not old enough to drink, but the party guests did not know this. They believed they were celebrating the Empress's nineteenth birthday, not eleventh. Aurora happily drank the juice. She didn't like the smell of strong drink anyway. Once someone had spilled wine on the tablecloth above her favorite hiding place, and after a time the smell had nearly made her vomit. Juice was a much safer option.
Although Aurora knew the rudimentary steps of a few dances, she was not competent. She and Devrim had practiced over the past weeks, but it was no use in their tall shoes. Finally the Empress decided they would not dance, and Devrim fell at her feet, thanking her whole-heartedly. He could easily be the strong silent type by her side, but the idea of being the center of attention terrified him.
Once most of the guests were mingling in the ballroom, Aurora stood and the crowd quieted. "Thank you got joining me to celebrate the day of my birth. It has been an honor to serve you as Empress these last months. Now please enjoy the food, enjoy the wine and enjoy the dance!" She motioned for the nearest minstrel to begin a jaunty tune, and many guests took to the dance floor willingly. The young ladies were particularly eager to find a dance partner. The previous Empress had not held a ball in many years, and the ladies were excited to showcase their skills.
Aurora tapped her fingers to the tune as she watched the young couples. Once she even caught a glimpse of Zan from one of the room's many balconies swaying to the music as he peered down into the crowd. "I want to be able to dance like her." Aurora said to Devrim as she pointed at one particularly skilled dancer. The lady's feet barely seemed to touch the ground as she spun.
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Devrim watched with interest also. He found the interplay between the dancers fascinating. It was science and math and beauty all rolled up into one. "Someday, Your Majesty, you will outshine them all. Every man will want to be your partner."
"You think?" Aurora blushed.
"Yes, and I'll be there to cheer you on." Devrim said with a grin.
"You won't want to dance with me then?"
"Only if you force me. You know I have two left feet."
The pair laughed. Devrim had the rhythm but lacked the grace. "You just need practice," Aurora encouraged him.
'I'd rather eat slugs' Devrim thought but kept silent.
The only other thing that caught the Empress's attention was the fact that Lord Turpilius was drinking heavily all evening. When each new decanter was brought out, he would refill his glass and finish it greedily. By the time Chief Zan came to give a toast to the Empress, he was well and truly drunk.
Clearing his throat, Zan quieted the band. "On behalf of the Council, we are delighted that you could join us for the Empress's birthday. I would ask you to raise your glass in honor of the Empress. May she live a long and prosperous life. Glory to the Empress!"
"Glory to the Empress!" Everyone raised their glasses and drank. All except Turpilius.
"It's quite a party you have here, Empress." Turpulius slurred loudly. "Everyone fawning all over you…Must be nice. Though I can't blame them too much. You look very nice."
"You forget your place, Lord Turpilius," Zan warned. "I suggest you head home."
Turpilius ignored him. "Did you get my gift, Your Majesty? I thought you could put it by your bedside when you get tired of looking at…him." Turpulius could not remember the Emperor Consort's name and resorted to pointing. Devrim gripped the throne. His knuckles were white. He was not angry for himself, but for Aurora. The lord's behavior was unacceptable.
Aurora did not react with anger. She had seen this moment coming all evening and had prepared. "Guards, please escort Lord Turpilius to the front gate. He is very unwell." In an instant two guards grabbed the inebriated lord and lead him from the room. Turpilius had used all his energy to make his point, and did not put up much of a fight. The Empress smiled at her court. "Now then, where were we?"
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As Turpilius was shoved unceremoniously out of the front gate, a voice spoke to him from the shadows.
"Where are your attendants, my Lord?"
Turpilius searched the darkness. "They are gathering my things, I assume," he answered, brushing dirt from his hands.
"Good. Then we are alone." A figure emerged from the shadows of the wall like a materialized ghost, causing Turpilius to shiver.
"What do you want, Cafer?"
Cafer smiled disarmingly. "Just a moment of your time, my Lord. I noticed your display in front of the Empress. I gather you do not respect her."
Turpilius spat on the ground. "She is unfit to rule—no better than the dirt beneath my feet."
Cafer welcomed his words. "Then I have a proposition for you. Together we can unseat Her Majesty. With my help, you could rule."
Turpilius suddenly felt sober. This was a serious matter. "How many would die to make this happen? Would you kill my elder brother?"
"No blood would be on your hands, my Lord. I would make sure you stay above suspicion." Cafer assured him.
In a moment of clarity, Turpilius's eyes narrowed on the short man. "No! I know what you are, even if no one will believe me! You cannot be trusted. Your kind are worse than snakes." He spat at the councilman.
A flash of anger came across Cafer's face. "Then this is where our discussion ends, and as you know too much, so does your life."
Turpilius felt the knife in his stomach before he could react. He slumped onto Cafer, who lowered him gently to the ground. "You had potential," he said sadly.
———————-
The following morning, Cafer brought the report directly to Chief Zan. "It seems there was a lunatic raving in the streets last night. Witnesses say he got in a fight and was stabbed. Lord Turpilius is dead."
Zan's eyes flashed silver. This was indeed troubling news. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Cafer. I'm afraid the Empress will blame herself for the lord's misfortune. We will need to have a full royal funeral to honor him."
"Of course, Chief Zan. I will see to it personally." Cafer said smoothly.
"I hope no one did this to avenge the Empress," Zan sighed to himself as the other councilman walked away.
"Trust me," Cafer sneered under his breath. "I didn't."