Chapter Text
“Mom, I haven’t even been back for two days, can’t I rest a few days before being thrown into social events?”
“Absolutely not,” your mother tutted, bustling about to assist you in your sewing, handing you pins and thread whenever you needed them. And, of course, giving you an earful about the ball she and your father insisted (forced) you to attend. “Nearly everyone in the kingdom will be there tomorrow. You wanted to catch up with your friends while you were here, didn’t you?”
You sighed. “Yes, but-”
“Then this will be perfect. You’ll get to see most of them in one place, saving you the time and trouble of going door to door to visit them all. Plus, they’ll get to see you at your very best. You're going to look prettier than any princess in this gown.”
You rolled your eyes, fidgeting with one of the sleeves of the dress. “My friends don’t care whether they see me ‘at my very best,’ mom. Most of them have known me since before I went through puberty. So, at my worst.”
Your mom pinched your arm playfully. “Well, puberty beat you with the pretty stick, so excuse me for wanting to show you off a little bit.”
You shyly laugh at the compliment. She was your mother, she was supposed to say those kinds of things. You knew you weren’t the classic kind of beauty everyone adored; your skin had it’s fair share of flaws and marks, your figure was average at best, and you gave up hope on taming your hair long ago. You knew better than to call yourself ugly, nobody was really “ugly” except in personality, but you found it hard to believe anybody would ever look at you the way people looked at princesses or actresses.
Still, you appreciated the sentiment, though you weren’t sure why your mother was so set on sending you to this ball.
“And who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone there. A handsome gentleman, perhaps.”
Ah, there it was. “Mom…”
“Or a lovely lady.”
“Mom-”
“Maybe you’ll meet one of each, have a matching set…”
“Mom,” you said a little louder, “I don’t want to meet anybody, I’m only going to find my friends, that’s it.”
Your mom either didn’t believe you, or she had other plans, judging by the look she gave you. "Honey," your mom said, her voice taking on a softer, caring tone, "are you sure you aren't, I don't know... just a little bit lonely? I haven't heard a word about your romantic life, and I'm concerned that you may not have one. You're old enough now that you should focus on putting yourself out there and meeting someone-"
"I don't want to meet someone," you snapped, feeling immediately guilty. "Sorry, I just... don't feel the need to go out and hunt for a partner. The right one will come at the right time. It'll feel magical and perfect and I'll know it's meant to be as soon it happens."
Figuring it was best, your mother changed the subject. “So, which friends haven’t you seen yet since you've come back?”
You thought for a moment, going over the list in your head. “Let’s see, there’s Selina, Cassandra, Maria… Cedric…” you said the last name under your breath.
Your mother’s face lit up. “Oh! He lives in the palace, surely you’ll see him tonight!”
'Maybe,' you thought, your heart fluttering nervously at the idea.
-
You never felt like you fit in at these sort of events. Surrounded by people of high class--or dressed high class, at the very least--made you very aware that you were not the high class type.
Before arriving at the castle, you had been satisfied, proud even, of your homemade ball gown. It wasn’t the fanciest or the flashiest, but you thought it looked flattering enough, and there certainly wouldn’t be any risk of encountering someone wearing a duplicate (and, knowing your luck, looking better in it than you did). But not even two minutes after walking amongst the crowd of lavish and expensive gowns, your pride shriveled up into self-consciousness. Suddenly you didn’t want to stand out anymore.
You were also aware that you were one of the very few adults at the ball without an escort. It would have been less awkward had your parents come along, so you would at least have somebody to stick around the entire night, but they had insisted you go alone. You knew they meant well, and they had a point. You were still struggling to be comfortable with adult independence, though you were at an age where going places and doing things alone should be a breeze. That didn’t mean you liked their decision.
Looking around, you were relieved to see that nobody seemed to be looking at you, so that was good. You would much rather blend in with the crowd and have an uneventful night than have any eyes on you.
But, unbeknownst to you, there were eyes on you.
-
“Mr. Cedric!”
Cedric jumped, startled out of his thoughts. He looked around in surprise and saw Sofia giving him a knowing smile. “And what do you want?” he deadpanned.
Sofia continued to smile up at him, either oblivious to Cedric’s irritation or ignoring it. “You’ve been hiding behind this pillar for most of the ball, aren’t you going to ask anybody to dance?”
Cedric’s cheeks flushed pink, his eyes darting away from Sofia’s. “N-no, I don’t think so. I’m not really a dancer.”
“I saw you waltz with Wormwood on his perch several times years ago-”
“First of all, never speak of that,” Cedric snapped, “and second, why don’t you find someone to dance with and mind your own business.” Cedric shooed her away with a wave of his hands.
Sofia stayed put, giving Cedric a grin that almost seemed smug, if Sofia were capable of smugness. “I was just going to suggest asking the lady you’ve been staring at for the past ten minutes.”
Cedric froze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“She’s very beautiful.”
“I know she is,” Cedric snapped, before immediately realizing his mistake. The pink on his cheeks deepened. “I-I mean, I, uh-”
Sofia took Cedric’s arm and dragged him out from behind the pillar towards the crowd. “Just go talk to her, silly!”
Cedric gulped. “Must I?”
“I’ll leave you alone if you do.”
Without another word, Cedric turned and made his way through the crowd. He kept his eyes locked onto the back of your head as he weaved between the guests, getting closer and closer, his throat getting drier the closer he got to you. Just as he was about to call out your name, he saw Baileywick swoop in to talk to you. Cedric could hear you greet Baileywick warmly, giggling at something that Baileywick said.
With a defeated sigh, Cedric turned around and headed back to where Sofia was watching him, her anticipation quickly replaced by surprise. “Congratulations, Princess,” Cedric scoffed, “you get to bug me for the rest of the evening.”
-
“What a wonderful surprise to see you back,” Baileywick said with a smile, “it’s certainly been quite a while, hasn’t it.”
“Eight years,” you remarked, hardly believing it yourself. “You haven’t changed a bit.” That was a lie, Baileywick’s hair had much more gray than you remembered. But he didn’t need to know that.
Baileywick grinned, primping his graying hair proudly. “Why, thank you. You certainly have changed, I must say. Last time I saw you, you were fresh into adulthood, with wild dreams and even wilder hair.”
You smiled, embarrassed, absentmindedly touching the tight bun your mother had yanked your hair into. “Yes, well, I bought a brush, found a support group, and the rest is history.”
Baileywick laughed. “Are you going to be staying in Enchancia for very long?”
“I hope to, why?”
“How would you like a job here at the palace? We’ve just had several job openings amongst the palace staff, you could practically take your pick. You might do well as a maid, or an attendant to one of the princesses.”
You lit up. You needed a job, and had been searching in vain for a job that the idea of didn’t make you want to claw at your skin, and here Baileywick was handing you an offer on a silver platter. “I’d love to, thank you!”
“Excellent,” Baileywick smiled, pulling out a small handheld planner from his coat pocket and writing something down, “come back tomorrow and we can talk.”