Page 93 of A Curse of Hope and Shadows: Part I
The whole manor was instantly thrown into chaos at the mention of a ball. Mrs Minton was beside herself. It had been over five years since she had hosted a ball, and suddenly the Manor was to be swamped with dozens of guests.
“Prince Alexei is coming!” she practically wailed. “I suppose I ought to be glad the king himself isn’t to be in attendance. Oh, lords, what am I to do?”
Clean. That was apparently Mrs Minton’s plan. Clean every single square inch of the entire estate, from the skirting boards to the ceilings. Even the gardens didn’t escape Mrs Minton’s frenzy, and Adeline was quite certain she would have ordered each individual blade of grass polished if she thought such a thing were possible.
Adeline had never given much thought as to the work required for a ball to go ahead. It wasn’t as simple as organising a fancy meal and ensuring there were enough rooms for the guests. The menus alone took weeks to finalise, liaising with various suppliers and planning not just for the ball, but the meals surrounding it. Enough light needed to be found, enough wine and drink. All the sheets needed to be inspected, washed, pressed, and inspected again. Not a fleck of dust was allowed in any of the rooms. Mrs Minton needed to discover how many servants would be accompanying their masters, and consider accommodations for them, along with any horses or hounds. The estate having operated on a skeletal staff for so long, delegation was barely an option; there was no stablemaster, not enough cooks, only a handful of maids and gardeners.
Which meant outsourcing to the village.
Even Adeline was pulled away from her duties towards Dimitri to assist with the cleaning. Adeline welcomed it. Although it was hard work, she hated feeling idle, despising the exhausted looks on her fellow staff members’ faces when she’d escaped the day relatively unscathed.
Dimitri pouted, but she quickly shut him down. “It’s only fair,” she insisted. “You can’t be playing favourites.”
“But youaremy favourite,” he muttered, looking down.
She smiled, and tugged his ear. “I’ll spend the evening with you.”
“You just want my fancy dinner.”
“Notjustthat.”
She returned to his side that evening, completely exhausted having spent most of the day dusting and organising the library, while Clarin, who was supposed to be assisting, was mysteriously absent. Dimitri had more of a mind for conversation than she did, so they sat together peacefully beside the fire, basking in the warm glow while she tried to sew.
“What are you making?” Dimitri asked at one point.
“Your clothes for the ball.”
He snapped his head round. “I’m not going,” he said. “I never go.”
“That’s a shame, since I’ve done so much work on them already.”
“If you’re trying to guilt me—”
“Is it working?”
“I... I’m not going to the ball, Adeline.”
She sighed. “I’ve always wanted to go to a ball, you know.”
“What? Why?”
“Those beautiful dresses... the dancing... the food... the beautiful dresses…”
He raised an eyebrow.
“What? I can be shallow.”
“You are one of the least shallow people I know,” he said.
“I… I like pretty things,” she admitted. “Even if they’re silly and frivolous and impractical. I still like them.”
He tilted his head thoughtfully. “What about ugly things?”
“You’d have to point them out to me.”
At this, they both smiled, and a few more minutes ticked by between them. “Really?” he said, cutting through the quiet. “You want to go to the ball?”
“Well, not this one, since you won’t be going.”
