Chapter 6

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Chapter Written By: Charlotte

Dominique's POV

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The carriage ride was mercifully short.

After Dominique, Lyra, and Blake had met their driver down near a more reputable part of town, they'd started towards the castle. Dominique rather liked riding in carriages, but Lyra was not fond of them, and Blake looked on the verge of sickness the entire ride.

Paying to be escorted via carriage was not a luxury the ECL often had, if ever. But tonight, they were not members of Eldom's Common Liberators. They were not assassins. They were not middle class nobodies, nor were they born in the slums. Tonight, they were noble guests. Curious attenders, respectful subjects.

When the carriage pulled up to the front of the castle, Lyra and Blake exited first, heading up the marble steps that led into the grand ballroom. Other carriages followed suit, dropping off their respected guests and finding a place to station themselves for the night. Dominique remained in her carriage, letting their driver find a secluded spot near the flower beds to stop.

"Would you mind staying here for the night? I know it's a bit far from the other carriages, but my friend, Mrs. Templeton has a rather delicate stomach, if you can guess what I mean. She doesn't like to be ridiculed by others if she needs to leave on account of her health. Do you understand?" Dominique asked sincerely, her cover lie was realistic enough.

The driver smiled sympathetically. "Aye, my wife has a similar issue. I'll be waiting right here if you need to leave quicker."

Dominique returned the smile. "Thank you kindly sir, it's much appreciated," she said softly, handing him a generous payment. The driver looked surprised, but he took the coins without complaint, pocketing the sum.

"If we need to leave early, I'm sure a few more coins may fall into your hands. For the inconvenience."

The driver nodded, thoroughly bought out.

Dominique then opened the carriage door, stepping out into the evening air. She followed the crowd of well-dressed people up to the palace entrance. Before she entered through the adorned doors, she paused to take the scene in.

There she stood, in front of the royal palace. Its walls were made up of shining stones that had been carved into intricate swirls and patterns. Marble beams laced their way around windows and archways, accenting alabaster and other precious materials that lined the castle. Unlike the noblemen and women around her, the sight made her that more angry. The excess wealth and useless stone made Dominique all the more eager to tear down the royal family. To watch as they bled upon their priceless floors, helpless.

Dominique shook her fury off, composing herself for the task at hand. Tonight, she was not going to murder any royalty. She was the distraction for a very small puzzle piece in her grand scheme. She took a deep breath, painted on an eager smile, and entered through the towering doors into the ballroom.

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Noblemen and women of all varieties filled the ballroom, slowly gathering at the base of the grand staircase. Adorned with glistening pearls and gold necklaces, courtiers donned gorgeous, intricate gowns. Men were clad in their expensively tailored suits, looking either ridiculously pompous or impossibly elegant. Satin, velvet, chiffon, and mounds of tulle covered the guests from head to toe, flaunting their wealth and prestige.

However, the most striking part of the guests' wardrobe was the fact that no one had bothered to wear black - or any dark colors for that matter. Dominique had suspected that very few people would wear mourning colors, so she herself hadn't worn morning colors either. But she hadn't expected that nobody at all was wearing black. It was almost as if the entire court was trying to ignore the death of the crown prince, trying to block the tragedy out of their minds with bright pastel colors and jewels. Although Dominique truly hated the royal family, and had no sympathy for the late Prince Amir, the thought of nobody mourning for him made her feel sick. It was disgusting, really.

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