Page 4 of Disenchanted
She was fluttering the paper about so much, I only caught glimpses of the words.
His Supreme Highness King August, the first of that name… by royal decree doth declare that the eve of high summer be set aside… a grand ball to be held in honor of our most beloved son and heir…
“Oh.” I gave a disappointed shrug. “This is nothing but the announcement of the same ball the palace holds every summer.”
“But this year is going to be very different,” Amy cried. “This year we all are invited.”
“What!”
“It says so right here.” Amy flapped the parchment at me. “Look.”
“Perhaps I could if you would hold still.” I plucked the missive from her grasp and steadied it to read. Netta, Amy and Fortescue started to crowd closer but wary of my layers of soot, thought better of it.
Netta urged, “Oh please, read it aloud, Ella.”
Clearing my throat, I obliged, “His Supreme Highness King August, the first of that name, descendent of the noble line of the house of Helavalerian, ruler of the great kingdom of Arcady—”
“No, skip all those boring bits,” Amy interrupted. “The really good part is down here.” Jabbing the paper with her finger, she directed my attention to a paragraph lower down the page.
I began to read again. “Our most beloved son and heir, Prince Florian, having recently returned from his tour of the neighboring kingdoms, was disappointed in his quest to find a bride. Despite the loveliness of these foreign princesses, none of them were able to win the favor of our noble prince.”
I snorted. “More likely none of them would have the conceited fool.”
“Ella!” Netta scolded.
“Keep reading,” Amy insisted.
I glanced down and found my place again. “Therefore, our doughty prince— doughty? That makes him sound like a pan of bread left to rise too long.”
“Ella!” Both my stepsisters shrieked.
“Oh, very well… our doughty prince has resolved to choose his bride from among the fair ladies of our own kingdom. Everyeligible maiden, be she of high or low degree, is hereby invited to attend the royal summer ball. Come join us for an enchanted evening of supping and dancing wherein one fair maid will be fortunate enough to capture the heart of our valiant Prince Florian.”
“Win the heart of the prince,” Amy cooed, flinging her hand across her brow as if she would swoon at the thought. “It could be me.”
“Or me,” Netta said.
“Or neither of you,” Fortescue said, looking rather peevish.
“What does that signify?” Amy said with a haughty toss of her curls. “The prince has four younger brothers, and the ball is bound to be teeming with other desirable young men as well. Dukes and earls and barons.”
“Knights and lords,” Netta added dreamily. “Rich, handsome and clever.”
“Forget about clever.” Amy giggled. “I just want one that is all rippled with muscles.”
Fortescue flexed his arm in a feeble effort to display his own strength, but it would not have mattered if he could have produced biceps the size of a ham hock. The unfortunate young man was forgotten in my stepsisters’ ecstasies over the ball.
When he announced in aggrieved tones that he might as well take his leave, the girls barely stopped their excited chatter to bid him goodbye. I was the one obliged to see him out. He snatched up his hat and gloves as I opened the door. Even though I thought Fortescue was a bit of an ass, he looked so crestfallen I felt sorry for him and rather ashamed of my stepsisters’ behavior.
As he tugged on his gloves, I tried to cheer him up. “Never mind, Mr. Bafton. You have a sister so I daresay you will discover your family has received an invitation as well.”
“What care I for that?” he asked in a wounded accent.
“If there are so many eligible noblemen at this ball, there will certainly be an even greater number of ladies, most of them in need of consoling because only one can win the prince.”
“Why, that’s perfectly true.” He paused on the doorstep, looking much struck by my words. “It is possible that I might win the favor of some great lady, perhaps even the daughter of a duke or a countess. Gads, do you think that I could, Miss Ella?”
I smiled at him cheerfully. “Why not? Stranger things have happened.”
