The Princess’s Ball

Two months had passed since Fiona stepped into Dimitri's grand mansion, a lifetime compressed into stolen moments and simmering secrets. 

She and Maria became close friends, while Fiona often faced constant criticism from Pauline, who was three years older than her.

Though Dimitri insisted she focus on her studies, the kitchen remained her sanctuary. The warmth of the stove, the rhythmic chop of vegetables, the heady aroma of spices – these were the familiar comforts that eased the unease gnawing at her. Ever since her first dish, Dimitri couldn't resist letting her cook, a silent acknowledgment of her skill.

As she diced carrots, the sharp scent filling the air, Mrs. G's voice drifted from the garden. "Yes, Mrs. G?" Fiona replied, wiping her hands on her apron, her heart pounding slightly faster.

She found Mrs. G kneeling among the neatly arranged plants, her hands deftly pressing young eggplants into the rich soil. The warm sunlight bathed the garden in a golden glow, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and blooming herbs.

"Mr. Dimitri will be going to the palace this evening for the princess's birthday," Mrs. G announced, her eyes still fixed on the soil, her voice devoid of inflection.

"That's great news," Fiona replied, her brow furrowed. Why was she telling her this?

"He needs a plus one, and since Miss Rose is out of town for the weekend, he asked if you could join him instead."

Fiona's heart leaped, then plummeted. Me? Mrs. G didn't look up as she spoke, her movements precise and efficient, the image of calm authority.

"Y-yes, Mrs. G. I'll go get ready," Fiona stuttered, her cheeks flushing.

"Good. Ask Pauline to help dress you. Maria is a chatterbox and might take two days to get you ready," Mrs. G advised, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Fiona suppressed a laughter. She knew better than to laugh in front of Mrs G.

"Go on. You have less than two hours to prepare," Mrs. G said, turning to see Fiona still standing there, her eyes wide. As she turned to leave, she added, "And do try to make a good impression, Fiona."

.....

"I know you know nothing about fashion, so I'm here to help," Pauline declared with an air of authority, her lips pursed in a thin line. Fiona nodded, her reflection in the dressing mirror a nervous blur.

"You will be the envy of all the ladies there. As much as I despise you, I want people to admire my work. I do want to become a fashion designer after all," Pauline continued, her fingers already working magic on Fiona's hair.

Fiona smiled, a flicker of gratitude warming her heart despite Pauline's prickly demeanor. Pauline's fingers moved with practiced ease. 

Fiona politely declined any makeup, much to Pauline's annoyance. Her skin was already flushed with anticipation,

By the end of the transformation, Fiona gazed at her reflection in awe. Was that really her?

"You look just like… you could be a princess," Pauline said, her eyes widening slightly. Fiona remembered Pauline's near-slip on her first day, the words cut short by Mrs. G. Why had she been silenced?

The purple ball gown that Pauline had chosen was a masterpiece, a symphony of silk and satin that hugged Fiona's slender figure perfectly, accentuating her tiny waist and delicate shoulders. The neckline was low enough to reveal the start of her cleavage but in a modest way. 

Diamonds and amethysts sparkled across the bodice, catching the evening light like a constellation. Her long, raven-black hair cascaded down her back, a few loose strands framing her heart-shaped face.

Maria burst into the room, her eyes wide with excitement. "Mr. Dimitri's waiting downstairs!" She took one look at Fiona and gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh my god, you're an angel from above!"

"All thanks to Pauline," Fiona said, glancing at her.

Pauline rolled her eyes, trying hard to suppress a smile. "Come on, let's go," Maria urged, taking Fiona's hand and gently leading her down the stairs.

Dimitri stood in the foyer, his eyes fixed on her as she descended. His breath hitched, and a flicker of something akin to awe crossed his features. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the air thick with unspoken words.

"You look…" he began, his voice trailing off, his gaze lingering on her face.

"She's breathtaking!" Maria exclaimed, her eyes shining with excitement. "Have fun, Fiona! Make it juicy!" She winked and then ran back upstairs, leaving Fiona's cheeks flushed.

"You're beautiful," Dimitri whispered, his voice husky as he took her hand and brushed a gentle kiss across her knuckles, sending a shiver down her spine.

"Thank you," she curtsied, her movements graceful. Apart from academics, Miss Rose had taught her table manners and courtesy.

Dimitri offered his arm, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Shall we?"

Fiona slipped her hand around his arm, her pulse quickening. Inside the carriage, she stared at her feet, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"It's okay. You can be yourself around me. I see the way you are with Maria," he whispered softly, his voice a soothing balm. She raised her head, her gaze meeting his. His eyes were gentle and reassuring, a stark contrast to the nervous flutter in her stomach.

She smiled, a genuine, unguarded smile that lit up her face. He reached for her hands, his touch sending a jolt of warmth through her.

"Fiona, there's something I have to tell you…"

Fiona felt her stomach twist with a mix of anticipation and dread. Was he going to confess his feelings? 

After their walk two months ago, he had been distant, his absences stretching into days, leaving her with a gnawing sense of uncertainty.

Before Dimitri could continue, the horseman announced their arrival. "We have arrived!" The carriage rolled to a stop in the palace courtyard.

"We're here…" he chuckled nervously, his gaze flitting away from hers.

She had never seen him nervous before, and her curiosity deepened. What did he want to say?

The grand ballroom shimmered with candlelight, the air thick with the scent of perfumes and the sound of music. Royalty and nobles mingled, their finery glinting in the light.

Fiona felt a surge of awe, her eyes wide as she took in the spectacle. The glittering chandeliers, the intricate tapestries, the elegant gowns of the guests – it was a world away from her simple life. 

While everyone else was dressed beautifully, she felt that Pauline may have overdone it, as many guests kept staring at her.

"They're admiring a very beautiful angel," Dimitri whispered in her ear as they walked to the main floor, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.

"I've never been to something like this," Fiona exclaimed, her voice filled with a mixture of wonder and amusement.

"Her Royal Highness Princess Vanessa…!!"

Fiona turned to look at the princess. Vanessa glided across the floor, her strawberry-blonde hair cascading down her back, a dark veil shrouding her face, casting an air of mystery.

As the princess took her place on the throne, Fiona felt her stare piercing into her soul. After a while, the princess whispered to her father, making him stare at Fiona as well, his eyes narrowed and calculating.

"Am I in trouble?" she thought aloud, her voice barely a whisper.

As the music swirled, Dimitri placed his hands on her waist, drawing her close. His touch was warm and firm, guiding her through the intricate steps of the dance.

"You're a great dancer," he complimented, letting her twirl in his arms.

"I do my best." She teased shyly, her eyes sparkling.

"I know you got this fiery spirit inside. I can feel it all closed up inside you." He whispered, his hand on her back sending a jolt of electricity through her.

"I reserve that for my close friends."

"Aren't I a close friend?" He teased, a mischievous smirk on his face.

"You're a friend and you're dancing close to me. Other than that, I don't think so." She smirked back, enjoying the playful banter.

"Besides," she continued, "you've barely been around."

"Did you miss me?" He whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her skin.

She turned her face to look at him still bent over to her ear, their face inches away. She quickly turned away, clearing her throat, her cheeks burning.

"It doesn't matter. I wouldn't even be here if Miss Rose was around."

"It was…." Dimitri began, his voice trailing off as the song came to an end. He excused himself to go speak with the king.

Fiona watched as they spoke, their eyes darting towards her, their expressions unreadable. A sense of unease settled in her stomach.

She reached for a glass of sparkling wine, the taste foreign on her tongue.

Dimitri reappeared beside her, his expression tight. "Fiona… there's something I'd like to discuss with you…" Dimitri said, his voice trailing off, his eyes darting to the king, who stood a few feet away, his gaze fixed on Fiona.

"What is it?" Fiona asked, her voice barely a whisper, her eyes meeting the king's, a flicker of fear dancing in their depths.

"Your Majesty," she curtsied, her movements stiff, her heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird.

The king's gaze swept over her, his eyes narrowed and assessing. "I see that you've made sure to teach her the proper etiquette of a princess, Dimitri," he commended, his voice sharp and laced with an undercurrent of menace.

"I… what?" Fiona looked up at Dimitri, her eyes wide with confusion and a growing sense of dread. He was silent, his expression unreadable, his gaze fixed on the king.

The king's words dropped like a bombshell, shattering the fragile illusion of trust she had built. "She'll make a fine doppelgänger for my daughter. She can pass as the fake princess. Well done, Dimitri."

Fiona's world spun, the glittering ballroom dissolving into a blur of colors and sounds. "I don't understand?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

"Oh, my boy here bought you so he could train you to be the perfect replica of my daughter," the king replied, his voice laced with amusement, a cruel twist to his lips. "Did he not fill you in?"

Fiona looked at Dimitri, her eyes filled with tears, a raw, wounded expression on her face. "No, Your Majesty. He did not."

Dimitri spoke up, his voice strained, his gaze fixed on the king. "Your Majesty, it would be advisable for her to continue with the training. After all, Prince Eric won't be here till the princess's 19th birthday."

"Very well!" the king chuckled, a harsh, grating sound. "Dimitri, see to it that she's perfect and similar in every way to the princess. We wouldn't want your brother suspecting a thing, would we?" He paused, his eyes glinting with a dark amusement.

Brother? Dimitri had a brother? 

The king tapped Dimitri on the back, the gesture almost paternal, but Fiona saw the tension in Dimitri's shoulders, the forced smile on his face. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

As the king walked away, Dimitri's eyes followed him, his expression unreadable. When he turned back to Fiona, he met her angry stare, a storm of emotions raging in her eyes.

"What. The…" she began, her voice choked with rage and betrayal, the words dying in her throat.

 He tricked her. Used her.

"Fiona..." Dimitri began, his voice pleading.

She turned away, her heart shattering. Escape. 

She pushed through the crowd, tears blurring her vision.