Urgent disguise and the Ball

The corridor of the royal palace stretched quietly and gleaming beneath Jenna's boots, her steps soft against the marble but hurried with tension. The parcel in her arms wasn't heavy, but it pressed like a weight against her chest.

"Deliver the parcel. Meet me at the coffee shop across the street."Kourtney's instructions had been clear. Direct. Simple.

But the air around Room 162 felt anything but.

She knocked. Once. Then again.

No answer.

Her brows drew together. The hallway was still, the chandeliers humming faintly overhead like suspended stars. Jenna hesitated only a moment before testing the handle. It clicked open.

The room greeted her with quiet order—neatly folded sheets, sunlight slipping past sheer curtains, and a breathless stillness that felt less like absence and more like a secret held too long.

"Bella?" she called softly.

Silence.

She stepped in, cautious, eyes sweeping the room until they landed on the vanity.

A parchment lay there, its edges crisp, deliberately placed. Something about it unsettled her before she even touched it. And when she unfolded it, the words rushed at her in a blur.

To Whoever Delivers the Dress,

I know this is sudden. But I've left early. I have an important date tonight—something I simply cannot miss.

I know I was expected to escort one of the princes to the gala… and I know it's part of my signed commitment… but I can't go back on this. I just can't.

Please, if you've found this note, I'm asking—no, begging—you to take my place tonight. The dress is ready. Everything is arranged. Just walk in, smile, and act like me. It's just one evening. Help me out?

Your prince escort will arrive shortly.

I owe you big time.

— Bella

Jenna blinked. Once. Twice.

Then everything in her stomach dropped.

"She… ditched?" she whispered aloud.

Her heart lurched violently against her ribs. Thoughts collided in rapid-fire succession.What if someone noticed? What if the prince realized she wasn't Bella? What if—

Her fingers moved on instinct, dialing.

Kourtney's number.

No answer.

Again. Nothing.

"Ugh, Kourtney, come on…"

Her fingers trembled as she reached for the parcel box. Inside lay the gown—folded like a whisper, its crystal-threaded silk shimmering with a glow that caught the dim light in cascading waves. Feathers framed the hem like frost kissing the edge of winter. It was stunning. Ethereal. And not her.

She stared for a beat too long. Then, with a resigned breath, she began to change.

The gown hugged her differently than it would Bella—too closely, too carefully. She pinned her hair softly back, applied the barest makeup, and stood before the mirror practicing a smile that wasn't hers.

The knock came before she'd convinced herself it would work.

Three gentle raps against the door.

She froze.

"Miss Bella?" came a voice. Polished. Male. Poised.

Jenna shut her eyes briefly. Then opened them, gathered every shred of feigned composure, and pulled open the door.

Standing there, handsome as if sculpted from charm itself, was Prince Robert. His tuxedo was perfect. His posture relaxed. His eyes—sharp, blue, observant—scanned her face with a flicker of surprise, but he smiled.

"I'm here to escort Bella," he said, with a polite pause, "but you're…"

"I'm standing in for her," Jenna said quickly, lowering her gaze. "She was… called away unexpectedly. She asked me to represent her."

There was a pause. Subtle. Weighted.

Robert's brow lifted slightly—but he didn't question further. Instead, he offered his arm with graceful confidence.

"Well, in that case… shall we?"

She hesitated, only for a breath. Then her hand slipped into the crook of his elbow.

His tuxedo fabric was warm beneath her fingers. Her heart thundered like it was trying to escape her chest.

They walked together down the corridor, her pulse loud in her ears, every step more surreal than the last.

Robert didn't speak at first. But he glanced at her once—subtly.

"Don't worry," he said gently. "These nights always feel more intimidating than they are. Just follow my lead."

Jenna nodded quickly, unable to speak.

The hem of the gown rustled softly around her ankles with each step—so unlike anything she would ever wear. So like Bella. So wrong on her.

"You're doing fine," Robert added, a slight smile brushing his lips. And then, after a thoughtful pause, "You look beautiful, by the way. Truly."

Jenna blinked. Her breath caught."Oh… thank you," she murmured, her voice foreign to her own ears.

As they passed through the grand arched doors, the ballroom came alive around them. Music spilled across the floor in gilded crescendos—strings and piano woven into a silken tide. Guests waltzed beneath towering chandeliers. Conversation glimmered like champagne. And Jenna stepped into the scene like a character in someone else's play.

Robert guided her deftly through the crowd. Around them, nobles swirled in polished elegance, their faces familiar only by the impossibility of forgetting them.

The other princes stood near one of the tall windows, gathered in conversation and light drink.

As Robert approached with Jenna on his arm, their attention drifted naturally to the unfamiliar woman beside him.

There was no recognition. Not even from Prince Keith, who offered a disinterested glance before sipping from his glass.

"Gentlemen," Robert said with an easy charm, "Miss Bella will be joining us tonight after all."

Prince Edward was first to respond. Warm, unfailingly composed. He stepped forward with a gentle smile. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Bella."

"Thank you," Jenna said softly, hoping it sounded like Bella's cadence. Hoping they didn't hear the quake in her breath.

Wysten offered a quiet nod, thoughtful eyes watching too closely. Jacen looked at her briefly, expression unreadable, before turning back to Nicholas's murmured comment.

She tried not to fidget.

And then it hit her.

Her phone.

She'd left it in Bella's room.

Panic sparked like flint in her chest.

Kourtney. She might call. She might already have.

Jenna held her face neutral, but her spine had gone stiff.

Still, Robert leaned toward her slightly, his voice low near her ear.

"Still with me?"

"Barely," she admitted, the truth slipping out.

His smile didn't falter. "Let's get through the first dance. After that, vanish if you need to. Or head for the dessert table—it's the most forgiving guest here."

A breath left her lips, almost a laugh.

She didn't belong in Bella's shoes—or Bella's world. But here she was, sleeves dusted with borrowed glitter, trying to play a part she barely understood.

And with Robert leading her through the golden whirl of the ballroom, Jenna's night of masquerade—in silk, in secrets, in someone else's name—had truly begun.