Undercover Royals

24: Champaign, Campaign and the Hoard

My eyes feast on the buffet table before me, my eyes devouring what my mouth is forbidden.

Festive tapestries cover the walls in a display of flamboyant beauty and class. Chandlers dangle from the ceiling looking like large diamond earrings. Concealed by the high canopy of the ceiling, ribbon dancers hover over us, waiting for the guests to arrive. Little do they know that dancers are the new soldiers. Cloaked by their ribbons and masks an arsenal of weapons lie, ready to kill at a moment's notice. High class killers for a high class introductory party.

Rhythmic clicking jars my from my skyward musings. Annalise stands before me, she is downright unrecognisable. Her only familiar feature is Monty, who stands by her side looking equally attired for a ball.

Annalise wears a red dress that looks like someone hacked it apart with a knife, her legs slipping in and out of the fabric with every step like some sort of erotic pic-a-boo. Her hair is yanked back into a tightly packed bun her face frosted with more make up than the ten layer cake. When I suggested to Ruspin that he should order a fifty layer cake in commemoration of his fifty flights of stairs, he almost laughed.

Monty is dressed a bit more inconspicuously. Though he seems stuffed into a black suit almost two sizes small and looks like he's wearing a men's corset... damn does he look fine. I think he'll have quite the challenge guarding Ruspin tonight, what with the gold diggers beating him with their shovels just to cart them off to their lady caves.

Vain or not, I look hot in my gold dress. Large golden beads take refuge across it's velvety surface, trailing all the way down to my toes, before dissipating. A thin, frilly strap holds the entire concoction in place and saves me from scarring the innocent bystanders. My hear floats around my face in an abundance of curls. I opted for just lipstick today... I've spent too long with my face masked in a layer of cement that's meant to make me look 'appealing.'

Cage and Celeste are milling around somewhere, they left Jesse with a babysitter so I'm pretty sure I'll be hearing about their devious behaviour all night.

Ah, the man of the hour, I still can't believe he managed to pull this off so believably... in such a short time-fame to boot.

Decked in a silver, form fitting suit, he glitters his way through the crowd, his air no less commanding... though he may have left a silver mist behind him. His silver and white attire match perfectly and with his pitch black hair, he appears to be some sort of majestic faery. He's schooled his face into a pleasant expression, his gaze not quite as demeaning and his frown not so off-putting.

Wordlessly, he stands beside me, folding his arms as he watches his slaves... sorry, the caterers, finish their last minute preparations like the overlord he is.

Turning, my eyes are forced to endure the radiance of his outfit. It's not anyone was expecting of him, but it does suit him well. His hair is brushed back and his face, cleanly shaven. He looks so... regal; like he's just been waiting to step into these shoes.

"Ruspin, you look dashing tonight." I compliment sincerely.

The tips of his lips lift slightly, and for me, it's almost comparable to the sunrise.

"Thank you, Angelica." He murmurs. I feel his eyes caressing my body past this layer of gold. "I like you even better in gold."

And boy do I catch that double meaning!

"Silver and gold." I hum back, "we're basically a matching pair."

Another beat passes before I self-control deserts me, "How did you plan this so seamlessly? I've been to royal balls before... and this is on par with some of the wealthiest nations. You act so poised, as though you have training yourself. You're acting like a real host."