Greenhorn: The Judge

Chapter Five: An Offer

Isla was ecstatic. Rhonwen had made her a dress of pale gold silk that wrapped around her like water. It hung low, exposing her shoulders and the crest of her breasts. It had long sleeves that brushed the floor and changed to copper as it reached the ground. Rhonwen had lent her a diamond necklace that formed a dazzling arrow straight for her bosom. Isla's hair had been put up so her strawberry curls twisted into a halo on her head. Any ringlets that weren't up fell delicately around her face.

She felt elegant in a way she never thought she could.

Rita's dress had been made of a velvet green so dark that it would look completely black if it weren't for its shimmering undertones in the light. It was cinched tightly at her waist to give her straight figure more shape. Rita always hated this. The dress went up into a choker around her neck, leaving her strong brown shoulders bare. Her hair was intricately braided half up and the rest fell down in loose waves.

Rita and Isla walked in together. Rita didn't care much what she looked like. She only had one thing on her mind: keeping Isla from making a fool of herself or doing something stupid. The room was filled with diplomats, nobles and foreign royals. She recognized some. The white-blonde family of her aunt Alexia's family one of the northern country, all tall and lithe. She saw the sturdy shoulders and dark heads of her grandmother's nephew and his sons. Rita spotted at least four men that were attractive enough to make Isla wander off like a curious child.

Isla was in awe of the ballroom. The chandeliers were glowing beehives, like the honey was filled will magical bioluminescence. There were fireflies floating all around making so that no part was untouched by light. It was at the top of a magnificent tree, so the branches opened up to the orange and pink sunset. The floor was polished to such reflection that she could see herself in it; and the people. The people were unlike any she had seen before. There was an aura that filled the room beyond the glow of the lights, it washed over many of the guests, including Rita. It made them angelic.

"Hello girls," said Peter. Rita chuckled, seeing her dad's transformation.

"Mr Mallory," Isla mutter, gobsmacked. Isla had only ever know Rita's dad as Peter Mallory, the goofy, fun-loving plumber, always covered in some mangled piece of clothing and something in his bushy beard. Now his face was clean-shaven, making him appear ten years younger. He wore a suit akin to a 19th-century imperial prince, it the same colour as Rita's dress, but made from stiff wool and had accents of deep forest green.

"It's Prince Peter Lorr tonight," Peter said with a teasing tone, his small mouth giving a smile that seemed almost too big for it. "I just wanted to come and check on you girls and see if you wanted a round of introductions or if you'd prefer to keep to yourselves tonight?"

"I would love to meet people," Isla said eagerly, desperate to know all the angels around her. "Although aren't I supposed to be a secret? Wouldn't they find out I'm different from just talking to me?"

"The introductions are usually brief with a touch a small talk, I'll guide you through it, don't worry kid," Peter said with a reassuring nod.

"Maybe a dance or two first," Rita said.

Peter gave a glance at Rita. "Have fun you two. Come find me when you're done."

With that, Peter walked off.

"So who should we dance with?" Isla asked, eyeing up some young men who eyed her up in return.

Panicking at the thought of Isla dancing with a stranger, she looked around the room until she spotted Sam who was having a conversation with a foreign prince. Quickly running over Rita grabbed Sam.

"Hey," he said, pulling his arm away.

"Go dance with Isla," she said.

"What why?"