The Assassin

The Celebration Ball

A joyous uproar erupted throughout the kingdom in celebration of the returning king. He exited the heavily guarded carriage as his heeled shoes clicked against the white stone staircase leading to his less than humble home, servants flooded from the multiple storied palace to bring in the riches from the small village, Rubaros, he conquered not so long ago. Praises were being flung around, happy that their kingdom continued to remain undefeated. The king paid no mind to the glory and maintained the languid pace he established when he first stepped foot on the ground, a smirk on his lips hidden slightly from the attractively groomed salt and pepper beard.

Doors opened wide to clear a path for the reigning monarch, diamond shaped tiles beneath his feet where real diamonds ought to be or at least that's what the king thought. A thunk occurs behind him telling him that the towering doors have shut, immediately going to find his wife and daughter as the white and gold voluptuous furs, that frame his shoulders quite nicely, graze the floor. 

Though the kingdom's royal colors were white and gold, the king walked past the guard stood right outside of room to find his daughter wearing a pale yellow dress with pale blue vertical striped pattern and sewn-in pink roses, a straight-across the chest neck line was riddled with ruffles on top of ruffles. However, the princess's face contradicted her jovial dress, her arms dressed in full and puffed sleeves were crossed. Her face red with anger accentuating the round puffiness of her face. 

"And what's that look for?" Her father said with an amused accent. The young lady huffed before turning away from her father. "I am upset with you." She said simply, holding her head up. The king's smile stayed on his face unwavering. "What have I done to make you upset?" 

The princess whirled around with an offended look as if she were surprised he had no idea what he did. "Today is my day, my birthday, today we are supposed to be celebrating me! Instead you're hosting a ball about you defeating Rubaros." Her volume lowers toward the end of the sentence as she turns back around hiding her face. The king walks forward spinning his daughter around and pulling her into a hug.

"Luella, I promise tonight will be about you, Rubaros will just be something else to be grateful about besides having you." He places a kiss on her forehead. "And I brought you something."

Her eyes swiftly shoot upwards and widen with excitement. "OOOO! What is it, what is it?" The king laughs with a rumbling voice. "You'll see, now go get ready for the ball."

Luella throws her head back and groans not wanting to wait for her present. 

"Gertrude!" Her father calls for the head mistress. An older woman walks in wearing a black floor length dress with a slightly dirtied white apron that completely covered the skirt except for the two inches of black dress that poked out from the bottom. The upper part of the apron were ruffled straps and a piece in the middle that connected them. White cuffs and collar finished her look.

"Get her ready for the ball." He stated. 

A quiet, "Yes, your majesty." Was uttered from her lips and she swiftly led Luella out of the room and into the washroom as the guard follows.

Now that his daughter was being taken care of his next task was to find his lovely wife which he was sorely unaware was currently talking to his earl and her new-found lover.

The queen planted a kiss on Earl Ward's lips and sighed. "Oh Fredrick." She laid her head on his chest closing her eyes pretending they had all the time in the world together. "I wish I'd never married that man." She whispers. He rubs comforting circles on her back setting his chin on her head careful not to tousle her hair. 

"As do I." The dark-haired man fixed his red-brown eyes on the bedroom door in front of him letting out a forlorn breath. "I must be going now Beatrice, when will I be able to see you again." He pulls away from her to meet her gaze. 

"There is the ball tonight." The queen says hopeful, he just smiles and laughs.

"I meant privately." Fredrick specifies. Beatrice takes a second to ponder. "I'm not sure." She concluded. "Never mind that, we always find a way." He says giving her a peck on the cheek and making his way toward the door. 

"Wait!" She calls out. Immediately his attention is caught and he stills standing by for her words. "Do you think of me as...a doxy?" The second those words left her lips he was already embracing her fending off any doubts in her mind.

"No! Of course not!" He started. "If not for your marriage we would already have a child. The last thing I would ever think of you as is some scandalous prostitute." 

She looks at the ground still not fully convinced. "If someone were to steal a loaf of bread they would be labeled a thief, would they not?" Fredrick only nodded already having an idea what this was leading to but an answer he did have prepared. 

"So if I commit a******y, am I not a-" 

"No."  

Fredrick didn't mean it as a rude gesture to cut her off but only to keep her from self-disparagement. "The only crime you are guilty of is loving. If not for societal rules and that prideful king we could be together without shame. If anything, it's that fool's fault leaving me here alone with his beautiful wife to 'protect the kingdom' since he was so confident in his abilities to take Rubaros himself. Well, he may have Rubaros but I have the queen." He ended his tirade with a soft kiss to her hand. "I really must be going now." He said more to himself. Beatrice gave a soft blink of acknowledgment and let her lover go. 

She waited a few seconds to make sure no one witnessed them leaving together though she couldn't wait long for the emptiness of the room was deafening. She checked her appearance in the mirror once adjusting anything that seemed askew and fled the bedroom.  

"Beatrice, my queen." The king did a playful bow and kissed his wife's pale cheek. She gave a small chortle.

"Charles, my king." She responded mirroring his actions. "You look as if you're already dressed for the ball." He complimented. She only smiled at the comment and changed the subject. 

"I most definitely won't be wearing this to the ball. How about Luella? Do you know what she will be wearing?" 

"I've instructed the maids to dress her in white, she's only just gotten into the bath." Charles says. "Then I should go help her dress and make sure what she wears is appropriate." Beatrice stated quickly distancing herself from her husband. 

"I'm sure the maids can take of that." Charles says feeling a bit downcast about the very brief meeting with his wife. She stops for a second and peered at the king over her shoulder. "Certainly, you'll allow me to spend time with my daughter on her birthday." She questioned.

"Of course." The king responds, a pang of guilt pricks his heart. "Thank you." Beatrice says standing motionless for a second making sure the underlying venom of her words pain him. The heel of her shoes clacks on the floor instilling the gap between the pair as her footsteps grow more and more faint. 

The king tried to shrug off the encounter and walked off to attend to business. 

Beatrice climbs the spiral staircase to her daughter's bedroom, she cautiously opens the heavy door and sits on the sizable bed, her body flexes back as she tries to sustain her posture and keep her face looking unbothered or at the very least neutral in case anyone walks in. A few minutes pass by then a few more, not being able to keep her façade she slouches forward and her hands catch her head. 

"Ugh." Was all that came out of her mouth though her mind was racing. Surely, she'd, along with Fredrick, would be executed if her husband ever found out she's been unfaithful to him. For four years now, she's been lugging around this immense secret with her which continues to grow heavier by the day. Fingers pinch the bridge of her nose as she mentally scolds herself for her recent behavior. She's sure the king's begun to notice the way she almost literally drops what she's doing and lifts her head with such perkiness when he mentions taking leave for a trip, the way she seems too eager when he's on a boat ready to voyage off for months uncertain of his survival. Beatrice lets out a vexed sigh remembering the soft prayers of her husband's death she'd whisper every day. Now, she doesn't really want him to die she just wants him out of her way.

If she keeps acting cold and distant he'll surely suspect something's amiss. How in the world does Fredrick do it? He stands beside the king as if he's his loyal lapdog happy to serve him, as if he's never had a secret in his life, his past life, and won't have any in the next. She can tell when Fred is faking a smile but that's only because she's gotten to know him very well for the past few years, if you were a stranger on the street and walked past him he could be shot by an arrow and a simple grin and nod would assure you he was in tip top shape. 

If he could do it so could she, she thought. Tonight, at the ball she'll apologize for her earlier foolishness, if there's anything she won't let happen is for her be the reason Fredrick gets killed. She finally picks her head off her hands, right on time as well because her daughter waltzed in with three maids chasing after her. 

"And I want my hair to be perfectly curled on either side- Oh! Hello, mother." Luella said with surprise. 

"I've come to see what you'll be wearing to the ball." Beatrice says standing up with a small smile still attempting to fully recover from the minor meltdown she'd just experienced. 

Luella trotted over to the chest sitting against the wall and unlatched the two leather buckles holding closed and pulled out white dress with three layers of laced frills from the middle to the bottom and golden flowers starting from slightly below the waist curving outward on either side. The waist shape was a very exaggerated V, the torso piece had golden bows going down the middle that got smaller as you went down. The neckline was straight across the chest while the sleeves were short but puffy and lace peeking from the end. 

Luella held it up excitedly waiting for her mother's response. 

"It's very elegant." Beatrice nodded with an approving smile. "Isn't it!" Luella shouted enthusiastically, the queen's face was quickly replaced with displeasure at the noise. "Please, don't yell." She stated. Luella, though slightly annoyed at the order, lowered her voice. 

"Rose, can you help me into the dress?" Luella asked one of the maids. "Of course, darling." She rushed over and began gathering everything necessary to wear the dress correctly. The crinoline stood near a corner on a mannequin while Luella began putting on her undergarments. 

Beatrice left the room to let her daughter get ready as she rehearsed her apology to the king in her head. 

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The thunderous sound of dancing rumbled the ballroom, in celebration for Rubaros anyone and everyone could join the kingdom in dance if they wanted. The king and queen overlooked the vast room filled to the brim with subjects, the band played louder in order to stay above the noise of chatter and pounding feet. The cooks were scrambling to prepare enough food for everyone, hot plates were being swapped with empty ones every few minutes. 

Luella sat beside her mother, her hand gripping the arm of the bejeweled seat underneath her. Little by little she began slouching in her seat uninterested in just watching others dance instead of indulging in the festivities herself. Every ball is the same, sit and stare, be a young lady, smile to your subjects. Why throw a party if you're just going to isolate yourself? The wide staircase leading to the royal family's thrones seemed to grow longer as if she were looking down at happy citizens passing by her suspended prison cell in the sky. She couldn't help but let out a drawn sigh which led to her mother's eyes snapping to her.

"Sit up and smile." Was all Beatrice said through gritted teeth. Luella fixed her posture but found it difficult to smile. This was supposed to be her birthday yet strangers are enjoying it much more than her. She glanced at her father wanting to speak with him about her gift but she knew she'd get scolded if she just stood up to chat with the king. Her mother would make sure she stays in place. She rolled her eyes and they landed on her personal guard, Oliver, who was standing near by. She wasn't even sure if he'd let her go if she asked. Luella settled into a very fragile state of acceptance and began to find ways to feed her boredom. 

Her dark brown eyes scanned the sea of people scrutinizing dresses and finding it amusing when one of the dancers would suddenly turn around to switch partners just to be unpleasantly surprised. One of the ladies was very bad at hiding her reaction to her less than attractive counterpart and just scurried to the hors d'oeuvres stuffing her face to avoid conversation. 

The princess moved her attention to the other side of the ballroom where some can be seen talking nonsense in a quiet corner. In fact, there were multiple people in groups conversing, either you were dancing with a partner, having a conversation, or chatting by the hors d'oeuvre table. Wherever you may be it seems everyone was paired up with at least one other person. 

Except, for him.

 A dark brown brunette seemed to be slightly lost, attempting to worm his way into the dance when they rotated partners but never seemed to be able to, though if it were her she would've been able to join just fine. 

"Maybe he's just shy." She thought. He awkwardly made his way to other parts of the ballroom unsure of what to do, he stuck closely to the wall and decided to settle on hanging around the plates of food. Luella's eyes didn't leave him for a moment, she studied him like a hawk.

He was attractive though he seemed to come from a poor family. He wore a brown vest with a matching short coat over it, it hung quite loosely on his skinnier than average frame. They were worn along with his black trousers but it didn't take away from his charm in the slightest. The one thing that didn't look as worn out as the other was his cloth cap which had a curl of his hair peeking out from under it and rested on his forehead, it looked cute. His Indigo blue eyes stood out compared to his black and brown outfit. The contrast made Luella's head spin, making her pouty whenever his face was hidden behind extravagant hairdos and accessories. It became painfully obvious to king that her daughter was searching for someone in the crowd when she began stretching upwards in her seat, her hands propping her up, moving her head from side to side frantically looking into the crowd. 

He was going to say something before he was interrupted by his wife leaning over just a tad to whisper something to him. "Can I speak to you privately for a moment?" Beatrice asked almost timidly. 

"About?" The king asked. "Earlier." she said quieter than her previous question. Charles takes a second to think and nods his head. He stands up and walks behind the velvet red curtain that drapes behind their chairs and he walks into the hallway, Beatrice follows.

And Luella takes this opportunity to tip-toe to Oliver. "Can you come with me to dance?" She asked. His stock-still face slightly turned up on one of the corners of his lips. She took that as a 'yes' and bounced down the steps, her feet finally joining those of the dancers and makes her way toward the curious blue-eyed stranger.