“Continue, everyone,” she said, taking the Prince’s arm in her clawed hand. “It’s a celebration.”
“Oh? What’s the matter?”
“Mr. Finley won the national semi-finals in his racing steam carriage.”
One of the maids carried a tray of sparkling wine past him and Esther retrieved two flutes, handing him one.
“It would mean so much to him if you could say a few words,” she told him. “Everyone, His Royal Highness has something to say!”
The room became silent once again. Clitus recognized Mr. Finley, whom he had seen at the racetrack, and easily identified his father, the under butler. They looked enough alike to be the same man at different stages of life. Lifting the wine flute, he spoke.
“Mr. Finley, I regret that I didn’t see your most recent victory. However the one I did witness left me most impressed with your skill and sagacity. Here’s to a great driver and, I am sure, the future champion.”
“Here, here!” called several members of the group as they lifted their glasses.
“Thank you for coming,” said Esther, leading him to a quiet corner.
“If I had known you were having a party, I wouldn’t have bothered you.”
“Never a bother, Clitus. You are always welcome. Sit here and let’s talk.”
They took two comfortable chairs on either side of a small table. Esther sat carefully, as the seat was not designed for her tail, but she was able to make it work.
“I’m afraid that I have been a poor friend,” he said.
“Nonsense. You’re very busy. I worry about you working too much.”
“I’m fine,” he said.
“I need to check and see that the food is coming out,” she said, getting up. “With all the servants as party guests, I had to order some temporary help.”
Clitus watched her leave the room and was startled when Lady Terra sat down in the seat that Esther had just vacated.
“Hello,” she said.
“Good day, Lady Terra. I’m pleased to see you.”
“Why?”
“Um, what?”
“Why are you pleased to see me?”
“Oh, well, I was going to ask you if you would join me for the Ladies Auxiliary Fashion Show, three days hence.”
“I’m afraid I’m busy,” she said.
“What about Lady Iolana?”
“She’s busy too.”
“I do hope Lady Esther isn’t busy,” he mused. “I really do need one of you with me.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Well, hopefully I’m not speaking out of school. It seems that Princess Henrietta is getting a bit too fond of me, so I need someone to sit between us—just for propriety’s sake.”
“Esther will be available that day,” she said. “Now perhaps you can find someone to sit between you and our mutual lizzie friend.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Very clearly, she’s in love with you.”
“She… she what now?”
“Oh, don’t fret about it. She’s aware that the differences in your physiologies make that type of attraction impossible for you, but you have been so kind to her, and let’s face it, you are a charming fellow.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, have fun,” she said, patting him on the knee, and then jumping to her feet and leaving.
Clitus sat by himself for several minutes, thinking. He caught the eye of a few partiers, and nodded politely, but no one sat down next to him until Esther returned.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” asked the Lizzie.
“Yes, but I can’t stay long.”
“Oh, that’s a shame. Are you sure?”
“Yes. You know how it is. But what I wanted to ask is if you will accompany me to the Ladies Auxiliary Fashion Show.”
“That would be lovely,” said Esther. “I was already planning to attend. It will be even more enjoyable now.”
The Prince looked into her yellow eyes for some sign of something more than friendship, but he couldn’t see anything.
“Princess Henrietta will be joining us.”
“That won’t be a problem, will it?” she asked.
“What do you mean?” he said, frowning.
“You know—because I’m a lizzie.”
“Oh. I don’t think so, but I’ll explain that you’ll be there. That way, she won’t be too surprised.”
Esther nodded.
* * * * *
The next day, Prince Clitus returned to the home of Mr. Aurium at Number 16, Avenue Dragon. Mr. Meanie, Mr. Stigby, and of course Bob, arrived at the door with him. As he made use of the wrought iron doorknocker, the Prince for the first time noticed that it was in the shape of a dragon’s face, and wondered if it represented what Aurium looked like in his true form.
The door opened, but it wasn’t Aurium who welcomed them, but a tall thin young man with silver hair and deep blue eyes sparkling behind wire framed glasses.
“Good afternoon, Your Highness, gentlemen. I am Dr. Argentine. Mr. Aurium is awaiting you in his study.
He led them through the darkened halls of the old house to the study in which Clitus had previously met with Aurium. It was a tight squeeze, but they all made it inside. There was only one unoccupied chair, so the Prince took it.
“Finally ready to get down to business, Prince?” asked Aurium, his jowls shaking as he spoke.
“I’ve been busy.”
“Yes, bailing people out of jail, romancing your future sister-in-law, and murdering drug traffickers.”
“I’m here now. The wizards have located Theodora Reisenstrauss, and we have a strike team ready to move against Die Freiheitgruppe. Are you going to lead them?”
“Dr. Argentine will lead them.”
“Is he capable?” Clitus asked, and turning to Argentine, “No offense.”
Aurium raised a bushy eyebrow and started to say something.
“I’m not stupid,” said the Prince. “I know he’s a dragon, I suspect a very young one. Obviously, Aurium means gold and Argentine means silver—not the most brilliant disguises.”
“They’re not disguises,” snapped Argentine. “They’re our names.”
“Watch your tone when you speak to His Highness!” growled Stigby.
Clitus raised his hand and both became silent. The Prince looked back at Aurium.
“He is more than capable,” said the old dragon. “You just have to say when.”
Clitus gazed back at him. “When.”
* * * * *
The interior of Royal Tybalt Hall was brightly lit and three spotlights were directed forward. The stage had been decorated with red, white, and blue ribbon, and three large flags hung above it: the Accord Banner of the United Kingdom of Greater Brechalon, and the flags of Freedonia and Mirsanna on either side of it. Just to the right of the stage, a large sign on a tripod easel proclaimed “Fashion tells the world who you are, before you speak!” On the left was a similar placard that announced “Ladies Auxiliary Fashion Show”.
The house was packed and most of the audience had been sitting for a good half an hour when trumpets directed them to stand and turn toward the royal box. Freedonian Princess Henrietta stepped out into the light, resplendent in a jewel-encrusted gown, and stopped in front of her chair. Prince Clitus followed, his bright red uniform covered with medals. He raised a white-gloved hand and waved. He took his spot two seats away from Henrietta. Somewhat timidly, Ester stepped around to stand between them. Clitus glanced down to see that her seat had been properly modified for her.
“Shall we sit?”
The three of them took their places, Esther placing her tail through the hole provided.
“I’ve never been to a fashion show before,” she said.
“I hope you enjoy it,” he replied. “I’m afraid the novelty has worn off for me.”
She turned to look at him.
“Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy looking at pretty girls in pretty dresses as much as the next fe
llow. But then I see that everywhere, don’t I? They never just show up to meet me in a frock. And I honestly don’t much care if the dresses are this year’s or next year’s.”
“They want to look their best for you,” said Esther. “You are one of the most eligible bachelors in the world. Look at them down there. I’m sure most of them want to kill me right now.”
“Quite the contrary,” he said. “They are happy you’re here instead of one of them. That way, they still have hope to marry a prince, less than charming though he may be.”
“I think you’re very charming,” she said, somewhat dejectedly.
“You have to say that,” he returned. “You’re my best friend.”
“I feel the same way about you.”
“Das ist exciting. No?” asked Henrietta, leaning forward to look past Esther.
Clitus smiled and nodded.
The orchestra began tuning their instruments and the three sat listening to the discordant sound and their own thoughts for several minutes. The Prince’s man Bob, leaned over his shoulder and passed him a folded note.
“What is it?” asked Esther, after he had read it and folded it back up. “Do you have to leave? Is it an important matter of state?”
“Hardly,” said Clitus. “It’s from Sir Redry Moorn, telling me his step-daughters are going to be wearing some of the fashions on stage.”
“Do you like one of them? Both of them?”
“Please. I get enough of my brother’s leftovers as it is. I’m sorry I even came now.” He quickly glanced over at Henrietta, relieved to see that she hadn’t heard him.
“I know something that will cheer you up,” said Esther. “Iolana and Terra are going to be part of the show too.”
“Lady Iolana is here?” he asked, excitedly.
“And Terra.”
“Lady Iolana is just so... She’s the most beautiful, most intelligent, and most accomplished young lady in the entire Kingdom. I would give anything if she had some interest in me.”
“I’m afraid you’re out of luck,” said Esther. “Of course, so is every other young man. She has her mind set on living the life of an old maid. I think there is only one young man in whom she ever had any interest, and he’s married and in Birmisia.”
“That’s what everyone keeps telling me. Well at least she’s not interested in Tybalt.” He sniffed and then lowered his voice. “I don’t think I could bear to see them together. Still, it will be nice to see her on stage.”
“And Terra.”
“Yes, and Lady Terra.” He frowned. “Lady Terra.”
“Don’t fancy her?” asked Esther.
“Oh, I like her, a lot, and I admire her. She’s so brave, living among the lizzies and all that. I mean, she’s fierce. And well, the whole incident in Blackbottom…”
“What incident in Blackbottom?”
“Oh, nothing. My point is that she’s not the typical Brech woman. Lady Iolana says she eschews tea parties, book clubs, and other lady’s activities. She doesn’t care what anyone says or thinks.” He lowered his voice, “She’s really more like a boy, isn’t she?”
“She’s certainly different now,” agreed Esther. “Back when we were in Birmisia, she was a timid little girl.”
“I like her,” said Clitus. “I just don’t see her as attractive.”
“I like her too,” said Henrietta.
Clitus smiled and nodded.
The orchestra began playing and the first young woman stepped out from behind the curtain and, somewhat nervously, began the walk across the stage. Her bright pink day dress was cut for a small bustle, but they were too far away to make out many details. Prince Clitus handed Esther an opera glass, but after trying it, she found that she could only look through one eye at a time.
“Oh look,” he said, glancing down at his watch. “It’s Lady Honoria.”
“She looks nice,” said Esther.
The young woman in question wore a lime green day dress trimmed with black lace. As she made her way across the stage, she glanced up toward the royal box and gave her bottom a little shake.
“Ssss,” hissed a shocked Esther.
“Oh my,” said Henrietta.
Clitus looked bored.
Seven or eight other young ladies took their journeys across the front of the theater to display the latest designs. Almost inevitably, they tried to at least make eye contact with the Prince. Lady Josephine Willington actually stopped amid stage and lifted her skirts to expose her shins.
The prince’s interests were only piqued when the next young woman stepped out.
“Look! It’s Lady Iolana!” he said, excitedly.
Iolana was wearing a black walking dress with white lace. A black top hat was balanced upon her cascading blond hair. She stepped primly across the stage, spun on a heel and returned.
“She is magnificent.”
“She did look very nice,” said Ester.
“Sie ist schön,” said Henrietta.
“Oh goody,” said Clitus, without enthusiasm. “Here comes Lady Honoria again.”
* * * * *
Lady Honoria Moorn returned from the stage and two dressing maids leapt upon her, using magic and good old-fashioned elbow grease to remove the tight-fitting red gown so that she could slip into another. Lady Ewa Windsdall, in a truly spectacular cream-colored gown that left her shoulders bare, stepped out onto the stage to a new round of applause. The dozen other young women who had volunteered for the fashion show were scattered around the area, some behind screens climbing into their dresses, others being laced up by the dressing maids, and still others having the finishing touches added, whether it be a matching hat or a bouquet of flowers.
“How many more do we have?” asked Lady Hortence Moorn. “I know this is for charity, but it’s far too much like work for my taste.”
“Yours is the last of the Brech gowns,” replied Mrs. Kipling, the organizer. “Then we have two gowns and three day dresses from Freedonia, the first of which, Lady Iolana is getting into, as well as something from Mirsanna.”
“Maybe one of those will fit me,” said Terra, seated in a folding chair between two crates.
“I’m sorry, dear,” said Mrs. Kipling. “I didn’t realize how thin you were.”
“At least we know the Freedonian dresses weren’t designed by a Zaeri,” said Lady Honoria.
Mrs. Kipling and some of the other young women glanced nervously at Terra, surely the only young lady in Brech society of Zaeri descent. Terra just ran her hand over her luxurious dark hair and yawned. Then looking into the face of one of the obviously Zaeri dressing maids, she rolled her eyes.
Lady Ewa returned and Lady Hortence darted past the curtain, as Iolana stepped out from behind the screen. A young maid immediately began lacing up her back. The Freedonian day dress that Iolana wore was cornflower blue, simple, unadorned with lace, but featuring a faux corset on the outside, that fit almost like a waistcoat. It was tight both above and below the waist, leaving only room for a small bustle, with long sleeves and a high neck. On the chest was a square opening, which, once the lacing in back was tightened, was partially filled with cleavage.
“What do you know?” said Terra, crossing her arms. “You’ve got a tit window.”
“Don’t be so vulgar,” snapped her cousin with a glare.
“I’m not saying it’s bad. At least you’ve got something to show off.” Terra pushed her own bosoms together. “I can’t even make cleavage. I’m nineteen years old. I should have some tits.”
“I keep telling you to eat more.”
“I don’t want to be chubby all over. Just in the tits.”
“For Kafira’s sake, stop saying tits!”
“Whatever you say,” said Terra. “Tits, tits, tits.”
“Oh my,” said Mrs. Kipling. The young women all turned to see her holding up a long gown of silk. Beautiful and shimmering silver, all could see that when held up to the light, it was almost completely transparent.
“Wha
t the hell is that?” asked Hortence, returning from the stage.
“It’s the Mirsannan gown,” said Mrs. Kipling.
“We can’t wear that!” shouted Lady Irenie Tottsbury. “Everyone would see our unders!”
“Oh my,” said Mrs. Kipling again, looking through the bag in which the dress had been stored.
“Mirsannan women don’t wear unders,” said Iolana.
“It looks as though Mirsanna will have to go unrepresented,” said Lady Honoria, “as no decent young lady would wear such a thing.”
“I’ll wear it,” said Terra. The other women, including Iolana, stared open-mouthed at her. “What the hell. It’s for charity.”
* * * * *
“Look, here comes Lady Iolana again,” said Clitus.
“Oh, that’s rather daring,” said Esther. “I wonder why we haven’t seen Terra.”
“Maybe they don’t have any trousers or face paint,” he said. “My, if this is how they dress in Freedonia, I’m going to have to visit Bangdorf.”
Four women followed Iolana, each in dresses that, Esther thought, were at least as nice. The last of the four was Lady Hortence, who paused just before leaving the stage and blew a kiss toward the royal box. Esther turned to look at her friend, only to see him looking again at his watch. When he looked back to the stage once again though, his mouth fell open.
“Oh my God!” he said, his eyes wide. “Oh my God, Oh my God!”
“Did you think we are in church, Your Highness? You’ve suddenly gone to praying,” said Esther, and then looking down at the stage, “Huh.”
A figure clad in only the finest Mirsannan silk strode across the stage like a goddess. A mass of black hair and two large golden earrings surrounded her face. She stopped at the end of the stage where two spotlights hit her from different directions and struck a pose, legs apart and hands on her hips. The audience took a collective gasp and two of the musicians in the violin section suddenly went wildly off key.
“Oh my God!” Clitus repeated. “Is that… Is that Lady Terra?”
The Dragon's Choice Page 20
