Romantic Tale

Panic swirled in Anaisa's middle. Or was it that breakfast was sitting ill?

"Your Majesty, I–" She tried to come up with any words that would get her out of the responsibility, but she couldn't bring herself to lie to the monarch. "I am unprepared to pretend being the princess, and if I should be recognized–"

"It is a masked ball, you will not be recognized." The king waved off the concern, "and now that I'm aware of your background, I'm satisfied that you can interact properly among the upper class."

"Well–"Anaisa hedged, but was interrupted again.

"I know, I should let you rest and prepare. I'll have the dressmaker sent up for a final fitting." The king nodded to himself.

"What about me?" Sapphira chirped.

The king cut her a look. "You will play the role of a servant and stay near to me at all times."

Sapphira pouted. "I want to meet people. It's hardly a coming out ball if I meet no one and no one meets me."