Their peaceful atmosphere didn’t last long. After a pitifully short round of pleasant chat, the next guests arrived, and with them their Mother and the Madame.

“I’ll convince them to bring you here again some other day,” the Lady whispered... And just like that Louise vanished and Lady Elliot returned.

It only took that one guest for the rupture of the den, and soon they were surrounded by all sorts of high and low nobles and such. The sheer amount of introductions made it hard to remember much of those people at all, so, as instructed, they remained tied to their mother and Madame Genoir so that they would deal with any questioning thrown their way. It was certainly easier to just play quiet and diligent daughter throughout the sheer amount of attention they were receiving. If there were people in this gathering who didn’t want to meet them, Gabe had not yet seen them.

Gabe, like all her sisters, disagreed deeply with Madame Genoir’s methods, but her teachings were surely showing their usefulness.

Any mentioning of herself or her name was to be ignored and only when addressed directly would she need to reply. A simple smile was enough to answer most questions, they had been told, even if one felt that a proper answer was needed. She should avoid longer answers at all costs. She should always return compliments to their sender, smile, and quiet down.

Some of those things were easier than others, but they all trained till exhaustion how to properly partake in all of it.

That kept her and her sisters in the safe lane of spectators most of the time, except “spectators” would not be the most fitting word for what was happening. Something closer in meaning would be to compare her and her sisters to living statues on a pedestal, all eyes directly turned on them… Watching their every angle and waiting patiently to leap and exploit a mistake, to deem them a fraud and scoff at the fact they were even there.

Gabe thought they could handle it because they had been experiencing this same judgement for hours on end by the dutiful Madame, but it was one thing to be looked at by one and another to be scrutinised by dozens.

The guest of the turn was Marquees of Amarant, one of the dozen or so people Madame Genoir made sure they had memorised face and demeanour. He had golden brooches of merit all over his expensively layered suit, but the poignant eyes behind his smooth glasses shone the most. Like so, those three seemed to be the common denominator in the multitude of Viscounts, Earls and Dukes; though different in age and appearance, they all had the gold, the fine fabric and the calculative eyes.

Gabe and her sister smiled, curtsied, dodged and repeated this same process until their cheeks hurt and their hands trembled. A thousand times, it seemed, that the only voices they could hear were from others, and their affairs were to be discussed by any other person but themselves…Until he came.

The Prince arrived, and all conversations immediately halted to behold his presence.

“I announce Her Highness the Crowned Prince,” the butler shouted as he entered, and swiftly all people in the gathering bowed their heads low.

Gabe allowed herself a sigh of relief as she saw the attention shift, and she knew she wasn’t the only one to feel that way. It looked like only the oldest of them was fairing as well as she appeared.

“Praise the gods above, I hope they don’t turn to us anymore,” Lulu whispered.

“They will,” forebonded Alani in an equally quiet tone.

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” begged Manny, words rushed and hands tight in her dress, “when can we leave?”

No one answered her. Gabe looked over her shoulder but her gaze halted at Samir's face. They looked like they were about to vomit.

“Soon, sisters,” she promised, “Hang tight just a little more.”

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As the gears shifted in her head, Gabe couldn’t ignore a twisted feeling in her gut. Lady Elliot seemed to be a suitable “ally” but her duties as a host would surely hinder her from any assistance she might be able to provide. Their Mother and Teacher were, surprisingly, helping, but even that would not be enough.

It would be something simple, she was sure, like Manny breaking into tears or… whatever Samir was about to do. Perhaps Lulu would say something out of line or she, herself, would fail to deflect the tones and meanings that no doubt intended to provoke. They were defenceless at the moment, and anything at all would require others to help. Others they would then owe. Where would this way lead?

Her sisters were too young and they needed time to adjust to their new role so that their actions would not be used against them. She foolishly believed only those strenuous days would be enough to prepare them but that was doomed to fail from the start and she knew it, Gabe realized. The Queen knew it. She was doing them “a kindness” to send Madame Genoir to prepare them (which would save the Royal family some face by showing that the future bride had, at least, the basic manners of the court) while still hoping for their inevitable fall so the oh, Dashing Prince could go on and save them. They would owe him the first of many favours.

Gabe looked at the girls again, then the Prince. The gears continued to turn. If that was the hand they were given, the only thing they could do was take the lead.

The second sister held the oldest’s hand. Alani almost jumped in surprise.

“Lead the way, sister.”

And but a look was enough to convey her meaning.

They followed Alani very close to one another. Perhaps it was her enchanting beauty or the quiet look of purpose in her movements, or perhaps, even, was the desire to see her play herself, but something in the oldest presence made people part ways for them to move.

Their movement forced the two older women to follow them, even if they appeared displeased and inquisitive as they went.

“Stick to him,” she whispered faintly in Alani’s ear while making sure to appear very worried, “We are young and bright-eyed so his influence makes us silly. Now reassure me.”

“Don’t worry, sister,” she said, low enough to appear private but loud enough for others to hear, “I am sure His Highness will be kind to us. He is a good man.”

He noticed their approach with a curious gaze, seeming inclined to appreciate Alani’s beauty, but his eyes shifted and he allowed the smallest of smiles when he beheld the two sisters' small interaction.

Although she could somehow understand his expressions, his features once again escaped her. As for his garment, the royal heir was dressed casually, she supposed, for a Prince, but his silky clothes and back leather boots were still a mirror of his wealth. He still chose muted colours, she noticed: greys and blues.

They got close and bowed deeply.

“We greet Your Highness the Prince,” their Mother said.

“We meet again, Missus Thatcher. Misses,” he acknowledged, “I am happy you were able to attend such a lovely meeting. Are you well in this fine evening?”

If Alani didn’t get some rosiness on her cheeks, her proper and subdued behaviour surely gave the impression she did.

“Yes, Your Highness,” she said in a smooth and pleasant tone that brought some approving smiles to people’s faces. Even though it was not her turn to answer him, no one seemed to mind.

She continued:

“Our previous meeting was the most pleasant. We are glad to see you again, right girls?” Alani turned to them and because having his attention made them somewhat drop their polite attitude, she received no answer, “Ah, would you be so kind to forgive their mistakes, Your Highness? You see, they were impacted deeply by your steemed presence.”

Gabe, also being swept into his Charm, struggled not smiling. That was why they all trusted their eldest more than anyone. Now, as long as it wasn’t something truly extraordinary, they could tactfully tuck away their slips as “the Prince’s influence”. They were prepared now, and, by doing so, it seemed to change the general perspective to put the responsibility on him instead of them.

The Prince stared straight past Alani, at Gabe. The confusion surrounding his face somewhat disappeared to reveal deep black eyes full of mirth.

They looked at each other and Gabe's unborn smile perished instantly. The Prince saw her.

Would he agree to go her way? Would that defy the entire purpose of the trick?

“Very well, Miss Alani,” and his words held the power of a future monarch, “Their mistakes will be forgiven.”

Their eyes broke contact as he led them to sit somewhere by him, but Gabe could not shake the feeling his attention still lingered on her.