Chapter 28: Regaled with Regalia

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It was the day of Princess Loisette’s birthday ball.

She had spent the morning in misery, tormenting herself over what had happened to Penelope Grace. Horrible though it had been, she was glad that Clarkent had been able to end the horse’s suffering quickly--she wasn’t sure she could have done it. And as she thought of the stable, she regretted that she hadn’t told him goodbye as Gawain. After what had happened, it felt too cold to give him a goodbye through the princess rather than through her guise of errand boy. She would need to go see him one last time as Gawain. She wanted him to remember his friend just as fondly as she would remember him; she couldn’t make their last meeting together end on such a sad note. She had hoped that this adventure with him would give them both some wonderful final memories of their friendship--instead, it had turned into a tragedy. If she hadn’t been so stupid, Penelope Grace would have still been alive.

She went to the library, hoping to bury her nose in a book for an hour, but Herbie was there, and he picked up on her melancholy without any difficulty.

“Your Highness,” he said gently, “is something wrong?”

She simply shrugged. She didn’t feel like talking to the librarian about what had happened, even if she could. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone about it.

“I do hate when you look so sad, Your Highness,” Herbie said, a worried look in his eyes. He really was a kind man. He was Loisette’s favorite tutor, and he shared her love of reading. She knew she would trust him with her life.

Loisette looked away for a moment and brought her eyes back to him. He had a chain pinned to the front of his tunic, the other end of which disappeared into a pocket. She nodded at the chain, wanting to distract him from his current line of questioning. “Have you had any luck with your time-teller?”

Herbie glanced down at the chain and pulled out from his pocket the large flat circle at the end of it. The circle had numbers on it and a pair of long sticks. “Not yet, I’m afraid,” he told her. “But I am hopeful that I shall succeed soon.”

Herbie was somewhat of an inventor, and he liked to tinker with things. Most people knew the time by listening to the ringing of bells or the shouting of town criers or even looking at sundials, but he had determined that he would make a time-teller that wouldn’t require the assistance of the sun. Loisette believed that if such a thing was possible without magic, Herbie would be the one to figure it out.

“I hope you do,” she told him sincerely. With a heavy sigh, she went and picked out a gruesome book about a battle waged centuries before. Then she told Herbie goodbye and disappeared to her room with it.

She didn’t read much of the book, though. She was still too sad about what happened with Penelope Grace.

Her mood might have remained dismal for the rest of the day, but Aliss had been flitting around the castle so cheerfully that Loisette couldn’t remain drenched in sorrow any longer. So she just said a small prayer for the horse and began to concentrate on what lay immediately before her, knowing there would be plenty of time in the future to mourn her friend. She would need all her wits about her today. They were celebrating her birthday in the form of a masquerade ball, and everyone would be wearing masks . . . except Loisette, the guest of honor, so to speak. But she hated the idea that she would have to guess at everyone’s identities, and she was determined to prove herself as discerning as possible. She wouldn’t allow the ball to cripple her senses. She would have to use them to her utmost.

Despite her resolve to make sure the day went as well as she could make it, her mood was quickly spoiled when Mishal brought a dress to her.

“What . . . is this?” Loisette asked her lady-in-waiting, confused. She stared down at the red and gold clothing, trying not to recoil from it. This was not what she had asked for.

“It’s your dress, Your Highness,” Mishal said patiently, as if she were talking to a child that refused to eat something deemed “healthy.”

Loisette shook her head in denial. “My dress is supposed to be white.” She vividly remembered picking out the material, going through bolt after bolt of fabric, feeling utterly disheartened until finally she had rested on a beautiful white she knew would be perfect for her dress. She had been so pleased when talking over what she had wanted with the seamstress, who had even appeared to share in her excitement. To know that all of that had been for nothing . . .

“The seamstress said the Regent requested the change,” Mishal told her. “He believed the *royal colors* more appropriate.”

Loisette stared at the offending garment, the stress of the previous day returning suddenly to her despite her decision to push it away. When she was younger, she would have indulged in a long and brutal temper tantrum about such a change as this. But those childish days were behind her. She would have to wear the red and gold dress without throwing a fit about it. But that didn’t mean she had to be happy about it.

****

When Aliss entered the princess’s room, she found Loisette standing alone in front of a mirror. The girl--soon to become a woman--was staring at the ill-fitting fabric on her body, picking at the material at her waistline and ruffling her skirt as if to make it fuller. Her discontent was obvious to Aliss. After all, she had known the princess her whole life.

“Your Highness?” ventured Aliss quietly.

The princess turned, her eyes suddenly filling with tears, and then she ran to embrace Aliss.

“What’s wrong, Princess?” Aliss asked, stroking Loisette’s back soothingly.

“Everything,” Loisette whispered. “My life is changing, Aliss. This is the role I’m supposed to play.” She pulled at the skirt of her dress. “But I wanted one night to feel . . . magical. I thought a white dress would make me feel like . . . like a fairy.” She lowered her head. “I guess that was stupid.”

“Do you not like the dress you’re wearing?” Aliss asked softly, though she already knew the answer.

“It’s *Alexander’s* dress,” the girl returned bitterly. “*He* picked it out. Not me.”

Aliss stared at the dress. The Regent must have been trying to exert control over the princess through his selection. While Loisette would never look unattractive in anything, the dress was not flattering on her. Of course, the sour expression she was wearing wasn’t helping with her overall appearance.

“I was . . . meeting someone after the ball,” the princess said sadly, her voice so low Aliss wasn’t certain she was supposed to hear it.

But the words made something click for Aliss. The princess could never have been called vain, and her unhappiness with the dress wasn’t solely related to the Regent’s meddling. Loisette was wanting to impress someone specifically, and it wasn’t helping that her last night as a princess had gotten off to such a bad start.

Fortunately for Loisette, however, Aliss was the perfect person to fix that.

“You know,” Aliss said suddenly, “I don’t think that dress suits you.” She closed her eyes, fluttering her fingers in the air. Mumbling to herself, she smiled as the air swelled with power around her. The power rose and built, centering itself, and then, suddenly, there was a release.

Aliss opened her eyes and gazed at what was weighing down her hands.

****

Loisette gasped, staring wide-eyed at her old nanny. Aliss was holding a beautiful dress made of both white and sparkling silver material. It seemed . . . almost magical. On top of the dress were a pair of matching shoes and a glistening silver coronet which was a hundred times prettier than any Loisette owned. All she managed was an unintelligible noise as she stared at the items.

“This is my birthday gift to you,” Aliss told her with a smile, resting the objects on the nearby table.

“How . . . how did you do that?” Loisette stammered. She had never seen Aliss use magic before.

“I would think that was obvious,” Aliss said, not bothering to hide her amusement. “I’m your fairy godmother.”

Loisette stared. “You’re . . . you’re my fairy godmother?” Blinking, she said, “All this time . . . ”

“I’ve been trying to look out for you your whole life, Your Highness,” Aliss told her. “But it hasn’t been easy, especially the past five years or so. There has been . . . some other magic surrounding you, though I haven’t figured out what exactly.”

Loisette swallowed. Aliss was probably referring to her Gawain outfit. Imp must have been powerful indeed if he had been able to make clothes that couldn’t be traced by a fairy godmother.

As Loisette gazed at her nanny, she felt a prick of annoyance. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I didn’t need to before,” Aliss told her. “Fairy godmothers often work best when their true identities are kept secret. Now, I won’t be transforming your little mouse friend into a footman, as you don’t need one, but this dress should help you feel like a fairy princess.”

Loisette let herself relax; she didn’t want to be upset with Aliss. So she just gave her a big smile and told her, “Thank you.”

****

After Loisette switched dresses, she stood in front of the mirror with Aliss at her side. The new ballgown was strapless, with the form-fitting bodice sparkling brilliantly and a full white skirt attached to it. The shoes had fit perfectly, and Aliss had used surprisingly nimble fingers to put Loisette’s hair up with the coronet. A brilliant diamond necklace shined at the princess’s neck.

“You look beautiful,” Aliss told her, smiling at the rising blush on the princess’s cheeks. “You remind me of your mother when she was your age.”

“Really?” Loisette asked, looking at her with wide eyes.

“Really,” Aliss told her warmly. “I was her fairy godmother, too. I gave you both the gift of speaking with animals.”

“You--you knew all this time that I could speak to animals?” The girl looked down sheepishly. “I didn’t realize anyone but Peri knew about it.”

“I knew the gift was well bestowed when I saw your friendship with that mouse,” Aliss told her. “But I hated to support your ability in case it brought your father’s displeasure down on you. When Peri told me he was teaching you, I wasn’t certain whether I should be pleased or angry--but I finally decided to be glad.”

“Well, thank you,” Loisette said, sounding a bit shy. “It was a wonderful gift.”

“It was my pleasure,” Aliss replied. “Your mother seemed to appreciate my present as well.” She stared at the princess, recalling the wonderful woman that had been Queen Ellena. “Your mother lives on in you, you know. I just wish she could be here today to see you. She would be so proud.”

****

Loisette smiled, a tear gleaming in the corner of her eye. What Aliss had said meant a lot to her.

She only wished she had known her mother--*really* known her. But at least she could talk to someone about her. After all, Aliss would always be able to tell her stories. Fairies could live a long time.

She stared at herself in the mirror, marveling at the change that had come over her. In *Alexander’s* dress, she had looked awkward and unappealing. But now . . . she felt she could take the whole ballroom on. Perhaps it would be a night to remember.

Yet though her confidence was growing . . . her nervousness was growing as well. But her attack of nerves had nothing to do with the masquerade. Instead, it had everything to do with the secret meeting she would have with Clarkent afterward. But why she should be nervous about that, she didn’t know. After all, she saw him almost every day.

****

“I’m nervous,” Clarkent said to Esroh Repus, stroking the horse’s neck. “I’m going to be giving the princess her presents tonight, you know.” Figuring that more was . . . well, *more*, he had decided to give her both the book and the necklace. He had hidden the former nearby in a pile of fresh hay, as it was too big to carry around, but he had the latter in his pocket. He kept touching the piece of jewelry, wanting to assure himself it was still there. Though he was grateful to Peri for giving him the book, he was more excited about her reaction to the necklace. Would she be glad to finally have a Pegasus?

He continued talking to Esroh Repus--if there was one thing a horse was good at, it was giving the appearance of listening. Sometimes, that was really nice. “Soon, the ball is going to start,” Clarkent said. “I have to admit . . . I’m sad I can’t be there.” He would have liked to dance with the princess one last time. That would have really made his night special.

“Perhaps I can help with that,” a voice said.

Clarkent twisted and saw that Peri had entered the stable. “Peri,” he greeted, getting out of the stall. “What do you mean--you ‘can help’ me?” He glanced away for a second, nervous that the older man had been listening to him. He was fine with having a horse listen to his private thoughts--but it was a bit different to have a magician do so.

“It must be hard for a young man such as yourself to know there is such a big event going on that you cannot attend,” Peri remarked. “So, I think you should go.”

Clarkent frowned. It wasn’t that easy. “I don’t exactly have the clothes for something like that.”

Peri waved a hand dismissively. “Every magic user worth his salt knows how to conjure up a set of clothes, son. You’ll have a costume fit for a prince if this sorcerer has anything to say about it.” Lifting his magician’s staff, he whipped it through the air, murmuring something to himself, and then, with a puff of smoke, an outfit materialized in his hands. He draped the individual items--save the blue boots lined with golden thread, which he kept in his hands--over Esroh Repus’s stall for Clarkent to look at.

Many of the items were golden--the breeches, the cape, the mask, and the cap, the last item of which Clarkent touched in interest. Peri pointed out helpfully, “The hat will cover your hair and help disguise you even more.”

Clarkent nodded in understanding and then turned his attention to the tunic. It was blue and lined with golden thread to match the rest of the outfit. It had a rearing golden dragon in the center of it, and small flames protruded from its mouth. The beast’s strength was obvious due to its bulging muscles and fierce expression. As Clarkent stared at it, he commented, “For some reason, it reminds me a little of the royal symbol.” That was strange, as the royal symbol was a pegasus, not a dragon.

“Indeed,” Peri said with a grunt. “Now, you’d best get dressed.”

Clarkent twisted away from the clothes, wincing as he stretched his sore side. “I can’t accept this from you--I’ve . . . I’ve never worn clothes this nice.”

“You can, and you will,” Peri told him in a no-nonsense tone, a frown etched into his face. “Is your wound still hurting you? Would you like me to look at it again?”

“No,” Clarkent told him. “You’ve already done enough for me. I’ll be fine.” He moved back to look at the outfit, torn about what to do.

“Just go to the masquerade, son. If you don’t, you’ll regret it.”

Clarkent smiled as Esroh Repus came over to investigate the outfit, and he gently pushed the horse’s head away. He couldn’t fight the desire anymore. “All right,” he conceded. “I’ll go.”

If he wore clothes like these, then would the princess want to dance with him? Would she see him as someone worthy of attention? He was eager to find out.

****

Chapter 28 Notes

Loisette’s Clothes: I couldn’t find an example close to what I imagined Loisette’s dress to look at, but if you want a visual in your mind, you could potentially think of something like this dress or (ha!) this dress or (ha again!) this dress .

Clarkent’s Clothes: Though it isn’t entirely what I’ve envisioned for Clarkent, Peter’s coronation outfit in *The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe* served as a bit of inspiration for Clarkent’s ball clothes.