I gave in to the nagging in my head and here is the sequel to "New Beginnings". I'd suggest reading it first if you haven't already.
I am my own beta, so if I missed something stupid, it's my fault.
Disclaimer: Sciffy rules all, and I do not.
"A ball?" DG cried.
Azkadellia cringed at the loud outburst and made sure no one was passing through the main foyer. She put on her 'patient' face. "That's right. Mother wants to celebrate Restoration Day in full force."
DG's eyes were still wide. "A ball. Like with fluffy dresses and stuffy important people and classical music and dancing."
"That's right." Az glanced over DG's shoulder at Wyatt Cain, who seemed perfectly content to let her handle this one.
"They know I'm going to embarrass them, right? And they're still okay with this?"
"Deeg, you said you've been to dances before."
She laughed. "I don't think high school homecoming prepared me for a royal ball."
"Can't you dance?"
"Not the kind of dances you're used to."
"That's where Twinkletoes over there comes in." Cain tipped his head toward Ambrose, who was on his way to the queen's study.
"He's going to be my dance teacher?"
Az smiled. "Don't worry, I'll be there, too. I need brushing up after a decade and a half. It'll be fun."
DG sighed. "Okay, but don't tell me I didn't warn you. When do we start?"
"Dance lessons tomorrow after your session with Tutor, and your first appointment with the seamstress is today at four. See you later!" She scurried off before DG could go off about her ongoing problems with the seamstress. That was one Cain could deal with. Jeb fell into step beside her.
"Nice getaway."
She grinned. "I thought so."
DG had found the idea of 24 hour guard disconcerting. Perhaps it was a lingering fear of being alone, but Azkadellia had to admit she found her companion comforting. Her sessions with Raw were helping her come to terms with the horrors of her possession, but having Jeb a shout away made her feel very secure. She knocked quickly on her mother's study door before entering.
Her mother, father, and Ambrose were all seated around the desk. Jeb followed her in, taking up position by the door.
"Hi, sweetheart. Have a seat." Her father said.
"How's the guest list coming?" she inquired, taking the empty seat between her father and Ambrose.
"There are so many people." Her mother stated. "And if we forget anyone, they'll be offended. That's why it has taken three weeks to get it this far."
---
When the guest list team started rattling off names, Jeb's mind tuned out. All these lords and governors and leaders and advisors and talk of who was loyal to who just boggled his mind. To occupy himself, he evaluated the security of the study. The only window faced another wing of the building. He recalled hearing the queen state that if her window faced out, she'd spend all her time looking at the beauty of the OZ and never get any work done. He could see the windows of the security office and maintenance office. On the second floor he saw into the seamstress' office. The only other door in the room led to a small restroom. Of course, his father had been over this room before and installed proper locks on all doors and windows.
His eyes drifted over to Azkadellia. It was as if a great weight had been lifted from her in the past few weeks. It certainly helped when everyone stopped staring at her in the halls or avoiding her like a plague. She smiled more. She didn't keep her head down as much. He watched her bite her lip in concentration. He thought it was cute but would never say so. She had several little habits that he found endearing. Like how she picked at her hands in her lap when she felt nervous or guilty. Or how her eyes gave away when she was about to win "Go Fish".
He snapped out of his thoughts as the Prince Consort caught him staring. He shot his eyes forward and looked intently at a painting on the wall facing him. He certainly hoped his face wasn't red, or he'd be out of a job by suppertime. His radio crackled and his father's voice spoke from it.
"Jeb?"
He quickly excused himself and slipped into the hallway. "I'm here."
"Can you come down to the office? We need to go over plans for this security nightmare the queen is arranging."
"Sure. The princess is in the queen's study with her parents. I'm on my way."
---
She followed Ambrose out of the study, ready to ask Jeb what he thought about inviting every tribal chief of the Eastern Guild to the ball, but found herself face-to-face with a new member of the guard, a young fellow that was just hired last week.
"Where's Jeb?"
"He's attending to some business in the office, your highness. He says he will meet you after your session."
Unexpectedly disappointed, she nodded. Of course Jeb might have other security business to attend to. Besides, she shouldn't need him with her every second. Her father came up beside her and looped her arm through his. "May I escort you to your quarters, my lady?" He asked with a smile. Az grinned and nodded with a curtsy. She looked at her feet. Her shoes were flat-soled and very simple. She was amazed that certain skills, like the ability to walk in ridiculously high heels, belonged only to the witch. Those distinctions pleased her; gave her a feeling of identity apart from her possessor.
"I am so proud of you, sweetheart." Her father spoke quietly as they walked to her room. He was the first one she really felt had seen her as her at the eclipse. She would never forget that.
"Thank you, Daddy." He didn't need to go into the reasons why he was proud of her. He knew that she knew.
He squeezed her hand and they rounded the bend where Raw waited outside her door. The Prince Consort nodded to the viewer and to Azkadellia before making his exit. Az smiled at Raw and opened the door.
---
"But if we place our men here and here," Wyatt Cain pointed to a map of the premises. "We still have these two entrances uncovered." He sat down at the table and rubbed his forehead. "Even with our new people, we just don't have enough for an event like this."
"We could call the CCPD." Jeb suggested lamely.
"Reg can't spare any more men than I can, especially on a holiday."
Simon Vetch leaned on the table next to Jeb. "We're assuming people will come to the closest entrance."
Burns picked up his line of thought. "We direct everyone to a single entrance."
"It'll make for a long line getting in, but we won't be stretched so thin."
Wyatt thought on it for a moment. "And we put a few guys on the roof and on grounds patrol. It's good. But if we get some troublemakers, they could come from any of the other grounds entrances after dark and we'd never see 'em coming."
Simon spoke up again. "In my hometown on holidays we'd put luminary lights along the street. They look nice and if you make them bright enough, they light up the street like daylight."
"Go outside and estimate how many we'll need for each path." Wyatt directed. He glanced at the wall clock and sighed. "I have to go make sure DG doesn't kill the seamstress."
As Jeb followed his father out of the office, he heard him mutter, "If I spend the next week making freakin' luminaries, Vetch is cleaning sidearms 'til next Restoration Day."
---
"I am a princess, not a pastry!"
Az couldn't stifle a giggle. DG stood in the middle of the seamstress' dressing room in an enormous pink dress, complete with seven layers of ruffles on the skirt.
"Laugh it up, Az. You're not the one dressed as a strawberry cupcake."
The seamstress began a tirade about how impossible it was to work with the princess DG and she was getting grey hairs growing in. DG shouted right back at her about her ridiculous dresses and who would want to wear this ugly thing anyway. Azkadellia managed to shout over them both.
"Shut up!"
Having their undivided, if not shocked attention, she began.
"Madam seamstress, my sister means no disrespect to the dutiful service you have provided to our family over many years. You produce fine clothes. I think DG would simply prefer a dress that is less…complicated. For example," she stepped over to her sister. "If perhaps you could eliminate some of the ruffles here, and let the skirt flow from the waist?"
DG was looking pointedly from Az to her puffy sleeves, and doing a remarkable job of staying quiet.
"Maybe a little less volume in the sleeve as well?"
"Simpler…" the seamstress pondered as she scrutinized the dress. "Yes, I see what you're talking about. Let me draw up a sketch." The middle-aged woman hurried back into her office.
"Oh my gosh, get me out of this." Gritted DG.
Of course, Cain and Jeb just had to come around the corner at that moment. Wyatt caught one look at DG, turned on his heel, and headed back out to the hall. Jeb studied her for a moment.
"It looks like a cake."
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