Absolutley Demonic

Belle of the Ball

"There is no man I cannot forget." I said honestly. The people of the ball were getting to my head. 

"I do not mind, my lady." 

I stared at the door, anxious to leave. The corset around my waist tightened with every breath I took. 

"Well, I do." I said as he carressed my sublime form. 

"May I ask your name, my lady?"

"Dahlia Elizabeth Moslin, third child of Peter and Rose Moslin." My head was swimming. He took a swig of the vile blue liquid in his glass and turned to me. 

"Johann Bartley Sinton of the Royal Sinton family. Seventh child of the great Rachel and John Sinton. A pleasure to make your aquaintance, my lady." He lied. The Royal Sinton family only had two children, and there was no Johann. I took my leave and headed for the door, to be blocked of by other partygoers.

"Where are you going at this fine hour, M'lady? You simply must stay for the show! I do hear that our noble host has hired a trick master! A warlock, even!" I waved them off and sadly made my way to the middle of the floor. 

"Your dress looks rather heavy. I may be able to help you take it off later, if you'd like, my lady." I turned, only to be met with "Johann".

"I do simply ask that you may stop following me, 'Johann'."

"Following? I would not call it that."

"What would you rather call it then?"

"I would say... admiration whilst moving, my lady. You are quite beguiling, and I would like to have your hand in marriage." 

"I think not. I have no interest in men who do not know their own name, let alone one who lies about it." He stood, shocked. I walked away as he was there still, with his mouth hanging open. 

"Tis' a smidge ironic though. I did lie about myself, after all." I yelled behind me. He snapped into focus and latched onto my arm.

"Who are you then, my lady? A prostitute?" My eyes narrowed, glaring daggers at the fool.

"If you must know, My true name is Nerissa Ophielia Belle, only child of the deaceased Mary and Andrew Belle, and right hand investigator to Her Majesty. I do request you unhand me, you insolent dolt." He turned pale and realeased my arm, tail between his legs. Muttering a weak apology, he turned and left. 

I took my leave after that. Holding my throbbing head, I walked into the nearby pub, The Drowned Mermaid. I needed a drink after all of that. 

~~~

"And what would the young miss like to drink this evening?" The bartender, Archibald, asked. 

"Double hit of whiskey, Archie." He chuckled lightly.

"And as always, with a lemon?"

"You know me all too well, Archie." I laughed heartily. He was an old, old man, but Archie was as spry as when he was young. He's my best friend, and has known me since I could barely walk. 

"A tough day for the young lady, hm?" 

"Quite. I had to explain my title to a lonely, whimpering fool asking me for my hand." I cringed. 

"Ah, I see. I do take it that he was rather astonished, miss?"

"Very." I sighed. Ive given up on a happy life, all for Her Majesty. After my parents died, I was immediatley sent to the palace as a favor to a royal guard. I helped around as a servant for a few years, until an accident occured. The royal guard who took me in was found dead in the feilds. While no particular person really cared, I did all I could to help investigators find his killer. People blamed the guards incompetance for his death, saying it was on his schedual. I knew better than to believe that rubbish.

 Day and night, I searched and searched for any clues, until I found what I was looking for. A second, lower form guard was sent to hang after I made my case. Shortly after, I was to be sent into the community, as my guardian was no longer with us. I recieved a letter from Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth III, asking for my services as her private investigator, praising me for the hard work and dedication I have done for her best guard. I've been in service ever since, until I am not needed anymore. 

I left the pub, my head fuzzy and floating. I really needed to sleep. I hailed a carriage and paid the fare to the palace, only to be kicked out of said carriage and into the street. I trudged my way to a small motel and paid for a night. I called Her Majesty's right hand man, Eliot Thompson.

"Eli, Im in a hotel for the night. Calling to report."

"Carry on, my lady."

"The party lasted for exactly three and a half hours, and the host never arrived. I have reason to suspect he either fled, or was warned of my presence beforehand. Either or, he never showed. No major crime leagues."

"Thank you, my lady. We shall send a carriage for you on the morrow."

"As expected. Tell the guards to...well...be on their guard."

"I shall. Good night, God Bless."

"You know better than to say that to me, Eliot. Im not blessed. Good night." I chuckled and hung up. Ive never been blessed. With all the bad luck I get, I'm glad im not in Hell right now.