“I can’t stop thinking the two of you look like sisters,” Hughes commented.
Luciana giggled. “Do we?”
She wore a long, open-shouldered dress that flowed down her figure like waves of aquamarine, her trademark color now. A turquoise ribbon crisscrossed her chest and wound around her neck like a halter top, but it was purely decorative. There would be no wardrobe malfunctions should it come loose. A golden bauble clung to the center of her chest, inlaid with a pale blue gemstone that matched her eyes.
Melody’s dress was very much the same—open-shouldered and flowing, but angelic white instead of aquamarine. She had a matching halter in red, and her gemstone burned like the fire in her eyes.
It was a very pleasing ensemble, similar in silhouette but unique where it mattered. Their layered skirts even incorporated traces of the other’s color—white for Melody and aquamarine for Luciana. It did indeed make them look like sisters. A pair, complete only as a set. Never one without the other.
“My birthday’s on August 7th, but Melo—right, Cecilia’s is June 15th,” Luciana said. “That makes her my big sister!” She threw her arms around her newfound sibling.
Melody giggled. “Making my lady—rather, Lady Luciana the youngest, and good girls do as the eldest says. Will you be a good girl?”
“No, you have to be the doting type! I want to be spoiled!”
The foyer echoed with titters and giggles. The maid and her lady looked into each other’s eyes, smiling wide, as the count and countess watched tenderly.
Elsewhere, however, the gaze was not so tender. “What’s all this about?” Micah grumbled. “Where’s all this chemistry coming from?”
You’re the heroine! Flirt with one of the boys, for crying out loud!
“This is what happens when the alternative lacks a spine,” said Paula.
“Uh-huh.”
“Don’t mind me,” Lect said with a grimace. He filled out his suit quite well, striking a handsome figure, but something about the Rudleberg family was impenetrable to him, and so he stood off to the side with the extras. This safety came at a price: putting up with Paula and Micah’s abuse. Rook joined them, but he didn’t seem interested in coming to the knight’s rescue. Or maybe his reticence was a kindness. Only Rook would ever know.
“Grow a pair and get over there,” Paula ordered. “Before she steals your partner.”
“I believe in you, Sir Lectias!” said Micah.
“R-right.” With the (partly physical) assistance of the maids, Lect finally approached the others. “Melody—er, Lady Cecilia.”
“Oh, hello, Lect,” the maid-in-disguise said.
“You, um, look very good. In the dress, that is.”
This was, in fact, his best effort. He didn’t even look the girl in the eyes, but he spoke. For better or worse.
“Thank you.” Melody beamed, and with her current attire, that smile struck Lect with an almost lethal amount of force. It was all he could do to keep a straight face. “Are you okay?”
“F-fine! Just, um, wondering when the carriage will arrive.”
Right on time, a knock came at the door. With quiet, steady steps, Serena approached and greeted the new arrival.
“My lord, my lady. Your carriage has arrived,” she said.
“Seems we’re off first. Will you manage without us?” Hughes asked.
“We’ll be fine, Father,” Luciana replied. “See you in the ballroom.”
“She’s in good hands, Your Lordship,” said Melody.
“I will see to the estate,” Serena added. “Please enjoy yourselves.”
Hughes nodded. “Sir Froude, I entrust Melody and my daughter to you.”
“On my honor, they’ll come to no harm,” the knight swore.
“I’ll, um, take your sincerity as reassurance.”
With that, the count and countess departed for the palace. It was not long before Maxwell replaced them in the foyer.
“Good evening, Lady Luciana,” the gallant lord said.
Luciana instantly flushed scarlet as her own greeting caught in her throat. Maxwell looked terribly handsome in that suit, she had to admit. He was meant to be her partner?
She came back to her senses after Melody tapped her on the back. “G-good evening, my lord. You honor me with your presence.”
“And you by allowing me to be in yours. Permit me to thank you for accepting my invitation.” He cracked a grin at her endearing nervousness. “Now, in your letter, you wrote of another.”
“Well met, Lord Reclentos,” said Lect.
“Ah, Instructor Froude. I don’t believe we’ve met since your short tenure at the academy.”
“Please, call me Lectias. I’m no instructor anymore.” Picking up on the teasing, Lect smiled wryly.
“Of course. Sir Lectias, then. Likewise, call me Maxwell.”
“As you say, Lord Maxwell.”
As dictated by propriety, Cecilia only greeted the lord once he had finished his exchange with the knight.
Maxwell addressed the commoner girl. “Greetings, I’m Maxwell. Maxwell Reclentos.”
“Cecilia, my lord. I’m only a commoner, but I’m honored to make your acquaintance.” She curtsied most perfectly.
Maxwell tamped down a mixture of surprise and respect at the execution of that curtsy. She’s been trained in etiquette. If she isn’t a noble, who is her family?
“If I may, madam, do you have a last name?”
“Pardon? A l-last name? It’s, um, Wa—er, Mc…”
“‘Mc’?”
“Y-yes. Mc…McMarden. I am Cecilia McMarden.”
Commoners in Theolas often bore two names. It was standard, in fact. Typically only orphans like Micah had a single name. Or amnesiacs like Rook. Noble houses by no means monopolized family names. Should the urge strike them, both Micah and Rook could apply for a family name of their own. In the case of orphans, this was often the name of the orphanage from which they hailed.
Trivia aside, Melody had not considered that she might need a last name herself. She had, at first, thought to give her actual name, Wave, but thought better of it. The next name that sprang to mind was one she hadn’t thought about in a long time—McMarden. Unfortunately for her, that was the one Maxwell heard. Thus, she became Cecilia McMarden, whether she liked it or not. Lest one question Melody’s mind or the multitude of other, better paths she could have chosen, consider: Melody was a good, honest girl to whom skullduggery did not come naturally.
“Pleasure to meet you, Cecilia McMarden,” Maxwell said.
McMarden, he thought. I’m not familiar with that name. But her first name, Cecilia. This is the name Chris and Lady Anna-Marie insist belongs to the Saint who appears in their visions. I’ll have to investigate further.
He made a mental note, then went on, “Please, call me Maxwell.”
“And you may call me Cecilia.”
So sorry, Max! the girl cried silently. I don’t like lying to you!
Things were going well so far, inner turmoil notwithstanding. Their conversation was cordial and natural.
Until Maxwell noticed something. “Say, I don’t see Melody.”
Everyone’s heart skipped the same beat.
Max! Why does that matter?! Melody thought frantically.
No one else thought the absence remarkable, so no one had bothered coming up with an excuse.
“She’s, um, not feeling well,” Luciana said, slowly piecing together her words as she spoke. “She’s resting.”
An excellent save. Or so they thought.
“Melody?” Maxwell said. “Resting while her lady is about to go to a ball?”
Like a bolt of lightning, the same thought struck the whole room. He’s right!
Melody sitting out such an important day was utterly unthinkable. Nothing could keep her from it. Nothing but the apocalypse or an injury that left her seconds away from bleeding out. The mad maid was simply that mad.
“She’s s-sleeping,” Melody added. Strange to be talking about herself in such a way. “I decided rather suddenly to attend the ball, my lord, and she worked herself ragged ensuring I had a dress for the occasion. Why, she only finished mere hours ago. She’s on strict orders to recuperate, you understand.” She glanced at her lady.
Luciana jolted. “Y-yes! Exactly! She begged me to wake her in time for our departure, but we all decided she needs the rest.”
“I see,” Maxwell said. “Well, her efforts were certainly worth the trouble. You look stunning together. With your hair as similar as it is, I suspect everyone will mistake you as sisters all night.”
“Thank you, my lord,” the girls said together, sharing a blush. And a relieved exhale.
“Shall we be off?” said Melody.
“Yes, let’s. I leave the estate to you,” Luciana told her remaining retinue.
They bowed and voiced their assent, Paula included.
Maxwell offered his hand. “My lady.”
“Oh. Thank you.”
He escorted Luciana out to the carriage.
“I suppose we should follow,” Lect said, offering his hand to Melody.
“Indeed,” she replied. “Let’s make it a pleasant evening.”
“R-right.”
Her hand was not a stranger to his. They had practiced dancing many times. But never did that touch make his heart race as it did now.
They were off to the ball.