The Moon Master's Ball (14 page)

“No,” Arella moaned, standing aghast in the
doorway.

She had stopped short upon opening her door,
shocked at the scene before her. Earlier she had painstakingly laid
out her dress, smoothing away any wrinkles with a loving hand,
smelling once more the scent of her mother. Then she had shut the
door and left.

She had forgotten that her kittens were in
the room. Apparently they loved the scent of her mother, too.

“Sleepy!” she cried. “Frisky! How could
you?”

One of the kittens scampered under a table
to hide while the other lazily stretched, his claws catching on the
smooth silk of her mother’s gown, which lay crumpled on the floor.
Arella ran to the dress and picked it up. The kittens had gnawed
the bow at the waist and run their claws down the skirt. Arella
squeezed her eyes closed, wishing the scene away like a bad dream.
But when she looked again, she saw the same thing. The dress was
certainly not wearable—sash in disarray, one sleeve half off. “What
do I do now?”

From the room next door Drusilla heard her
cries of chagrin and came over. “Arella? Is everything all
right?”

“No.” Arella turned to her, holding up the
soiled gown. “I didn’t know cats ate dresses.”

“Oh, Arella!” Drusilla exclaimed, entering
the room. “Your mother’s gown! Is there anything we can do to fix
it?”

“No,” sighed Arella. “There isn’t enough
time.”

Drusilla hesitated a moment, uncertain what
to do. Then she took the dress from her sister and grabbed her
hand. “I know. It won’t be your mother’s dress, but it will have to
do.” She led Arella down the hallway to the duchess’s room.
Knocking, she called out, “Mother?”

“Come in,” the duchess responded. Drusilla
and Arella entered, bringing the torn gown in with them.

“Arella’s dress,” Drusilla explained simply.
“The kittens got it.”

“Oh dear!” Duchess Germaine cried. “How
dreadful!”

“What shall I do?” Arella asked, her eyes
brimming with anxiety.

The duchess inspected the damaged gown.
“Well, you certainly cannot wear this, can you?” She smiled,
lifting a mysterious eyebrow. “But I may have something that will
work.” From her wardrobe she produced the blue gown she had
ordered. “I wondered if this would come in handy.”

Arella accepted the dress, managing a small
smile of gratitude. “Thank you, Stepmother.” The style was
completely unlike the simpler frock she had wanted to wear, but it
didn’t seem she had much choice now. She turned to head back to her
dressing room.

“One more thing, child,” the duchess called.
“Here.” She handed Arella a shoebox. “The glass slippers I wore a
long time ago when King Hendrick had his royal ball. By right,
Drusilla should wear them—”

“—but my feet are too big!” Drusilla smiled
encouragingly at her stepsister. “You don’t mind wearing them for
me, do you?”

“No,” Arella returned. “I’m just sorry you
can’t wear them.”

Drusilla waved an indifferent hand. “It’s no
matter. But enough chitchat—we have a ball to dress for!” She put
an arm around her stepsister’s shoulders and guided her from the
room.

Her eyes prickling with tears she couldn’t
quite suppress, Arella clutched the shoebox tightly in both hands.
Despite the ruining of her mother’s dress and the dread she felt
about the impending ball, she met Drusilla’s warm smile and managed
a small smile of her own in return.

Arella’s heart beat faster and faster as
they alighted from the carriage and swept their way up the palace
stairs. The knot in her stomach tightened, and she fought to keep
her face calm. Yards of skirt rustled about her, and the dainty
heels of her glass slippers made a delicate tapping as she walked.
She looked like a princess—which she certainly neither was nor
wished to be.

They hesitated at the entrance to the
ballroom. In due time the herald would announce them and they would
go forward to meet the prince. Arella tried to control her
heartbeat while they waited, watching the prince greet the numerous
nobles.
Stepmother promised I could leave at midnight. That’s
not too long to bear.

3

Prince Frederick repressed a yawn as a line
moved along. “Alice Laroche of Stelstek,” he heard the herald
pronounce. Frederick bowed courteously over the hand of a young
girl with a white face and lank hair.

“I’m delighted to meet you,” he declared. It
wasn’t a lie, exactly, just like wishing someone a good day wasn’t
a lie even though one often didn’t really care how good the other’s
day was. She tittered up at him, batting pale eyelashes. He forced
himself to suppress a grimace. Did all these girls actually believe
that tactic to be attractive? Alice moved on, throwing a
flirtatious glance—or at least what she hoped was one—over her
shoulder as she left.

No. Definitely not Alice.

“Duchess Germaine Abendroth, Miss Drusilla
Bessette, Miss Arella Abendroth, and Miss Anastasia Bessette,” the
herald droned. The duchess moved forward, her daughters
following.

And Frederick fought to keep himself from
gaping as the loveliest girl he had ever seen approached.

She met his gaze and started in nervous
surprise.
Is it even fair that one girl should possess so much
beauty?
he wondered.

The four women curtsied deeply as they drew
near, and he returned an even deeper bow. “Duchess, Miss Bessette,
Miss Abendroth, Miss Anastasia—I am so very pleased you could
come.”
Especially you,
his eyes said to Arella.

She glanced at him before looking down
modestly.

No simpering. That’s new,
he thought.
“I trust I may have the pleasure of dancing with—each of you before
the night is over?” It would hardly be courteous to single out only
one. Especially when there was an older sister—or stepsister,
apparently—involved.

Anastasia’s eyes flew wide open in delight.
I’m to dance with the prince!
she thought jubilantly.

Drusilla felt only shock.
I can thank
Arella’s beauty for this invitation,
she realized. Glancing at
Arella, she saw her stepsister’s face flooded with blushes. They
looked becoming on her. The prince was obviously smitten already.
Drusilla smiled to herself but felt worried. Could the prince charm
Arella?

Murmuring their “I would be honored”s, the
family moved on. The duchess smiled proudly. All three of her
daughters had elicited an invitation to dance with the prince
himself. An accomplishment indeed!

“I have to dance with him!” Arella whispered
frantically to Drusilla behind her fan, out of earshot of the
prince. He continued to bow to young ladies and their parents but
sent frequent glances in Arella’s direction.

“Just what every other girl wishes to do,”
Drusilla whispered back. Now was not the time to let Arella indulge
in solitude. Like it or not, she would have to make herself
agreeable.

“Why can’t he dance with every other girl,
then?” Arella whimpered.

“Because you are the prettiest.”

“I hate being the prettiest!”

It was the most vehement speech Drusilla had
ever heard her stepsister utter. “I’m afraid that isn’t for you to
choose. Dance with him, agree with what he says, smile a little,
and then it will be over. Surely you can manage that?”

Arella bit her lip.

“It will be just like dancing with any other
young man,” Drusilla continued. “Don’t be nervous. Everything will
turn out well.”

Arella cast a dissatisfied glance at
Drusilla. “I hate dancing with all of them, too!”

Their conversation was interrupted when a
friend of the duchess joined their party to visit.

Drusilla sighed.
Please, Arella, just
behave.

The evening dragged on forever, Frederick
thought. At least the part of the evening until he could dance with
Arella.

First he had suffered through all those
formal introductions, and now he must dance through a list of noble
ladies at his mother’s behest. The daughter of the Emperor of
Verdemons, for example; it would hardly do to ignore her.

Just dance with her and a few more, and
then I’ll be able to speak to the beautiful Arella.
Frederick
sneaked another glance her way. She stood beside her sister, the
picture of elegance and grace. As far as he had been able to tell,
she hadn’t looked his way once.

But a little shyness isn’t necessarily a
bad thing,
he reflected as Amala de Perperand boldly fluttered
past him, eyelashes batting for all they were worth.
In fact, I
think I like that in a woman.