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"Your Royal Highness! I have fetched your masquerade mask from the castle seamstress, and might I say, it is stitched to absolute perfection! I do hope you find it to suit your desires."

Spencer Smith paraded into the prince's royal bedroom, his head held high and a proud grin adorning his face as he carried in the masquerade mask. He had been waiting for the seamstress to finish the mask all day, for tonight, the king and queen were hosting their prestigious masquerade ball. It had been the talk of the entire kingdom for weeks, and only the best of the best were invited.

As the royal adviser glided through the room, mask in hand, he glanced around at the decorations and other baubles and trinkets. The prince had requested the room to be painted a blood red to compliment the deep gold color of his grand four poster bed and curtains, and Spencer couldn't deny the shades complimented one another gorgeously. The pristine marble floor beneath his feet was completely spotless, as well. So spotless, in fact, that he could see his reflection. A massive gold chandelier twinkled above the prince's bed, sparkling in the lighting of the kerosene lanterns adorning his walls. His desk was a dark shade of the finest mahogany, and even that complimented the bold red and gold aesthetic of his room. And to top it all off, of course he had a gargantuan painting of himself hung just above the doors to his balcony that overlooked the kingdom and the mountains looming in the distance. It was a bedroom fit for a prince, and a soon-to-be king.

Spencer heaved a content sigh, more than happy to serve the royal family in this stressful time. What with the prince's upcoming coronation, everyone was on edge. Was he ready to take the king's crown? Was he ready to rule the kingdom of Asturias? No one was certain. However, the king and queen did know one thing for sure:

The prince needed his princess, and that was exactly what the masquerade ball was for.

Spencer had overheard the queen speaking with one of her other servants. She had invited many princesses from the surrounding kingdoms to the ball in hopes of having her son fall in love with one of them. It was a brilliant plan, and soon enough, the prince would have his princess, and she would become his queen. Spencer couldn't wait to see all the beautiful princesses who came to the ball. Perhaps he could even find one for himself.

On the far side of the room, the prince stood upon a pedestal in front of a tall mirror as the royal tailor made sure his clothes were fit to perfection. He couldn't find a princess if his clothes didn't flatter his alluring body, could he?

"You look absolutely ravishing, Your Highness," Spencer said with a courteous bow as he approached the prince and his tailor. "All the girls will be fighting over you tonight. I'm sure of it."

Brendon Urie smirked at his own charming reflection, his lip impishly curled and his chocolate eyes glimmering with mischievous delight. He lifted his chin to get a better look at his defined jawline, and he puffed out his chest to show just how well his clothes fit his body. "Oh, I know they will, my dear Smith," he replied without missing a beat, his voice just as smooth and alluring as his appearance. "Maybe one of them will even be lucky enough to see my bedroom before the night is over."

"Or perhaps all of them, Your Highness," Spencer suggested. "That way, aside from their personality, you can get a glimpse of how they act in a room they're frequently going to be in, right?"

A devilish glint flickered through Brendon's eyes as he adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, biting down on his bottom lip. "Now you're using that pretty head of yours, Smith. You should speak your ideas more often."

Spencer dipped his head in thanks, unable to hide the growing smile on his face. "Much appreciated, Your Highness. I only want what's best for you in these trying times."

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