Preparation

Asty's response brought a smile to the noble's face. She then remembers the moments of her life. Her family, her dead child, the laughter of the villagers and how she used to collect her favorite flowers. Those memories, rushed into her minds giving her a peace of racing tranquility. Her peaceful expression became the visage of her final moments. She closed her eyes gently and slept forever.

Her hands became lifeless. Asty slowly places it down and gets up, wiping the tears away from her face and pretended a brave expression. She looks over to the bedroom's door as the maid entered and hands her over a golden envelope with the stamp of the King's insignia.

It was an invitation to the Palace's Ball.

"Asty," Noelle called.

Asty smiled, ignoring Noelle's calling. "I will tell you every wonderful thing that I will see in the Palace, Lady Rosellia."

Noelle heaved a sigh as the maids escorted Asty away from Lady Rosellia's cold body. With a heavy look in her eyes, she glanced back as the maids covered her peaceful face with a pristine white cloth.

Though she could not contain her tears, she clutched into the envelope with utmost care and brought it near her heavy chest. “I’ll make it happen.” 

"Asthenosthene." a soft, motherly voice comes from behind. An elderly servant of Lady Rosellia called her over from the hallway. She looked through the noble's bedroom and sighed. “She lived a good life.”

"Madame Pickinns."

"Oh no, do not call me like that, just Missus Pickinns would be alright." her eyes darted to the male behind Asty. "Noelle. I did not see you there.” 

Somehow, the male cracks a smile. “That was kind of straightforwardly rude.” he thought. The male nods a bit. "Missus Pickinns,"

The woman looked at both of them and drove them into a corner. "I assume both of you knew what Lady Rosellia's last wish was?"

Asty and Noelle nodded. "Yes."

“Rosellia have told me that there is a message she would like the Duke to receive. She had placed it inside the envelope along with the invitation, I assume.” 

“Are we going to deliver it this evening?” Noelle asked in a small tone. “I still can’t really process everything, I think I need a time-out.”

“Noelle,” Mrs. Pickinns bellowed. “Please come to the ball with us.”

“I don’t have an outfit.” Noelle stole a glance at Asty. “I don’t think she has any, either.” 

Mrs. Pickinns looked over at Asty. She could not tell the expression etched in her face. Whether it was sadness or determination, she did not pry any further.

"Do not worry about that. Get in the office and I will get you measured."

Mrs. Pickinns was Lady Rosellia's personal tailor and maid. And now that Lady Rosellia had passed, Mrs. Pickinns would do the honor of dressing Asty as Rosellia's candidate, to go the Ball.

"I don't think I should, Mrs. Pickinns." Noelle continues to degrade himself.

"Oh no, Noelle. Who will become Asty's escort? Do you wish to embarrass Lady Rosellia's subject?"

"I mean, I am not as charming or beautiful as Asty, I'd be a terrible eyesore for the Nobles. Asty has unusual looks and she would surely fit in the palace. But me, I don’t think my plain face befits dancing along with the Nobles.  Bart or Andrew from the pub would be suitable for this."

"Both look rubbish." Mrs. Pickinns insults. "Those drunkards know nothing but women and booze. Their skins are hard as stones and it will probably take days to rinse the filth from their skin."

Noelle looked down. Asty remained silent.

“I guess I don’t really have a choice, huh.” he murmurs.

"We should hurry. The clock is not going to wait for us. Lady Rosellia's carriage has been prepared the day before therefore, I believe that you do not need to worry about transportation. The ceremony of the banquet will start at seven o'clock, if I am not mistaken. Surely we do not want to be late if we want to confide with the Duke, yes?"

Asty nodded. "The problem is we do not know what Lady Rosellia wants to tell the Duke." Asty replied with a worried face.

"It should be in the envelope as I have said. Hurry. I will still need to tailor your dresses."

"Can't we just borrow clothes?" Noelle asked, worry plastered on his face. "We won't make it in time if we make them."

"If you want to catch the plague, yes."

Noelle heaved a big sigh. "Asty and I won't make it there, I am sure."

"I may have a few samples from behind that I did not lend anyone."

Asty and Noelle's eyes gleamed. "Really?!" both exclaimed in unison.

"My, my, are you both that excited to enter the Ball?"

"I want to find the Duke." Asty replied.

"I want to find a rich princess and marry her." Noelle replied in the same monotonous manner, implying a joke to lift their spirits. But deep inside, his heart was crashing. There was nobody in the world who he could admire more than Rosellia.

"Oh, you children..." Mrs. Pickinns placed a palm on her forehead. "Hurry then."

The two substitutions quickly ran into Mrs. Pickinns' tailor office. She sighed at the children.

"Oh, Rosellia..." she murmured in a grieving tone. "What were you thinking of sending these innocent children to the Ball?"

She glanced at Rosellia's bed-chamber and on her peaceful body. She was now in a better place. 

"These children... do not deserve to go to such a dangerous event such as the Ball." Mrs. Pickinns continued to mumble under her breath. “Especially somebody like Asty.”

"Mrs. Pickinns, come on! We are losing our time!" Asty determinedly yelled as her image popped from behind the door of her office.

Mrs. Pickinns looked at Asthenosthene's cheerful figure. Her eyes. Her hair. Her body. Her smile. “This child...” she thought. “I have a bad feeling about this child.”

“Go and grab the ribbons and laces. We might need them.” Mrs. Pickinns told her.

“Alright!” 

Asty disappears, leaving the tailor behind in the hallways, she took one last glance at Rosellia's body and frowned. 

"Why did you exactly choose to help Asthenosthene from the start, Rosellia? Why are you sending her to the Ball?"

Her brows furrowed deeper.

"What are your plans for this child?"