The Inner Circle | A Midnight Quartet

Chapter 4 | Carmen Foster

 Carmen Foster is having a rotten day. First off, he was wearing a suit. A suit. It's black and tight and entirely too itchy. Secondly, he lost the prince. His Royal Highness, Prince of Derowen, Ernest Theodore Carnelian III, to be precise. He rolls his eyes at the ridiculous name. Carmen was raised in a small, wooded village far from the frivolous towns and he can't help but find the fancy clothes and formal titles absurd. Darcy always laughs at him whenever he complains about the formalities of their jobs. He always has to address Ernest as "Your Highness" or "Sir". The prince doesn't even care what Carmen calls him, which makes the whole ordeal more painful. Honestly, the prince doesn't seem to care about anything, except for his books. It actually makes Carmen's job a lot easier, considering that was all Ernest wanted into, instead of, you know, his job. Right, back to his job... He had to find a prince.

As he turns the corner of the grand hallway, he bumps into Princess Irena coming out of her room.

"Excuse me, Your Highness!" He bumbles out, falling into a bow.

"No, it's alright! I should have- Wait a minute... Are you Carmen Foster?"

He rears his head back, surprised that she knows his name.

"Yes ma'am, that would be me."

She looks him up and down for a long, uncomfortable minute. "Hold on just a moment, I think I have something for you." She slips back into her room and comes out a second later with a blue tie. "You know, your tie is really ugly. You should wear this one."

He glances down at his deep red tie. I don't think it's that bad, he thinks with a frown. But who is he to refuse a princess, no matter how ridiculous the request is? He pulls off the tie and fixes the blue one around his neck. She gives him an approving look.

"It brings out your eyes." She says with a wink then saunters off down the hall.

He blinks slowly, utterly confused. What in the world was that? Either the princess has lost her marbles or he has no sense of style, which is probably true.

It takes a few minutes, but Carmen finally finds the prince tucked away in an alcove in some forgotten hallway.

"Sir! You are over fifteen minutes late to the ball! What are you doing?"

"Reading." He grunts.

Carmen runs a hand through his knotted, brown curls, exasperated. It's like dealing with a child! A child that can do whatever he wants, and doesn't get in trouble for it. The worst kind of child. He snatches the book from Ernest.

"How about this: you attend the ball for one hour and then I won't stop you from leaving."

"Thirty minutes."

"Fine whatever, let's go!"

Normally Carmen doesn't care about these kinds of things, but it is his job... and he is hoping to dance with a certain someone tonight. He gives the prince a once over. His clothes are mussed, his dark hair is sticking up where he had rested against the wall, and his glasses are crooked on his angular face. Good enough, he shrugs.

They finally make it to the double door entry of the ball, and he rests his hand on the handle but stops, realizing if they go in there, the Master of Ceremonies would announce the prince's name and all eyes would be on the late prince and his incapable servant. He looks around for another point of entry, spotting a kitchen servant slip into the back door of the ball.

Glancing back at the prince, he sees that Ernest had somehow gotten the book back and was leaning against the wall, engrossed in the words. He rolls his eyes. Must he do everything! Grabbing the prince's hand he drags him to the secret door and creeps in.