He wasn't cut out for this. This just wasn't him. He was only doing it because of the obscene amount of money his costumers had paid him, up front. And of course he loved money. But he was having serious misgivings about this little project.

Killian Jones tugged on the sleeves of his uniform, hoping it would cover the brace. His normal attachment, a hook, was replaced for the evening with a wooden hand. It was covered by a skin coloured glove, so one would have to look twice to see it.
He made his way into the ball room. It was ornate; paintings, wood and glass were predominant here. In the middle, there was a crystal chandelier. From what he remembered about the palaces he had visited, the ballrooms were practically interchangeable. Tonight, it was filled with guests, each more elegantly and expensively dressed, all with masks of different types. Some were lavishly decorated with gems and feathers covering only the eyes, others were simple set off with a fine fabric, covering the face up to the nose. Killian himself had gone with the latter kind; it was black and was held together with a ribbon at the back of his head. There were other naval officers, like him recognisable by their clothing, which had opted for the same choice. He felt glad for that. It would make him practically indistinguishable.

As Killian scoped out a spot to stand and hopefully remain unseen, a waiter offered him a flute of champagne. He refused. Naval officers were not supposed to drink after all, aside from weak ale to quench the thirst. The boy shrugged and moved along to the next guest. At that moment, Killian saw it spot by the window near a curtain. He calmly sauntered over and then took up position. He tried to look a little stiff, but he still managed to lean a little. He then took stock of the room. There were about 300 guests here, most of them officials of kind or another, but he had spotted some underdressed party crashers. Then again, they could've been just civilians, who snagged an invitation one way or another.

When he looked to the far end of the room he saw three thrones. Although they looked expensive they weren't ridiculously decorated, like some he had heard about. Two of the thrones were occupied, by the king and queen of the realm. The king was a stout man, with a stern face and the queen as he had heard, had pale skin and dark hair. They said she was the prettiest in all the lands, but Killian, who had been to a lot of lands, had seen far prettier women. He was impressed though, because she had an elegant neck and perfect posture. She radiated natural charisma and power, which made her a different kind of beautiful. But he wasn't here to conduct a beauty pageant; he was here on a mission. He looked at the third throne, which was a fraction of an inch lower than the other two. The princess' throne, but apparently she wasn't announced yet. He was surprised by this, since the ball had started about an hour and a half ago, but he never claimed he could look into the minds of royalty. So he decided to wait.

A band of entertainers were installing themselves, near the edge of the room, people were dispersing to create a kind of dance floor. Once the musicians seemed ready, a servant stepped on stage to announce the Swan of the Realm, Princess Emma. Killian tried to look over the crowd to see a young lady step into the room. Once she was on the stage and seated in her throne he could see her better. She was pretty, from what he could see. She had bright blonde hair, that was done up in an elaborate hair-do. She was wearing a light forest green dress, with an off-the-shoulder neckline, and the skirt widened at the bottom, but not as ridiculously as most ball gowns he was seeing this evening. The gown was unadorned; no extraneous embroideries or ruffles. She was wearing a simple necklace for jewellery and the mask she was wearing was a shade darker than her dress, but other than that was also bare. It covered only her eyes. Killian had expected something different. Then again, all the elaboration could've been done subtly so that he couldn't see it at this distance. They certainly seemed to come in style. He leaned against the wall and checked his pocket watch. Only 3 more hours to go, then he could fulfil his task and leave this place.

About an hour into the proceedings, Killian had lost sight of the princess. She had been dancing with some prince, when Killian had nodded to one of his colleagues and suddenly she had disappeared. The prince was now dancing with some other damsel. He scoured around the room to catch sight of her.

"Lost something?"
He looked at the curtain bewildered. For a second he wondered if he was going mad, when he noticed that behind the curtain two green eyes were staring at him. He did a quick bow and said, "Your highness."
He turned back to the wall, taking a step away from her. She elegantly slid next to him. He glanced at her for a second. Up close she was breath taking. The skin on her shoulders looked so soft, but unlike her mother the princess had a bit more tan. She turned a little to face him.
"So, lieutenant…" She said sharply.
"Jones, your highness, Killian Jones," he replied promptly as manners dictated.
"Lieutenant Jones, to what do I owe your scrutiny?" The question was asked softly and he could see a hint of a smile on her face.
"Well, princess, it's simply because you are breath taking," He said with a charming smirk, his propriety slipping to the back ground, "And life's too short not to look at gorgeous ladies, such as yourself."
He could see that her cheeks turned mildly pink, but her eyes sparkled. "I suppose that is a good reason… But I was hoping for another one."

Killian shot the princess a look, but she looked out of the crowd, her face blank. Then she said, "Do you dance, Lieutenant?"
He breathed in heavily, debating his dilemma. She might identify him, or worse, what if she fancies a bit of a fling? But it was bad form to not dance when asked, especially if the party who asked was royalty. He just decided to throw in a little of his charm, but to stay formal, proper distance and all that.

He took a step forward, turned to her, bowed and offered his right hand. "Would you honour me with a dance, your highness?"
She smiled, delighted and accepted his hand. He led her to the dance floor. The music just turned into a waltz.

He put his left hand on the small of her back and starting leading her through the music, making sure to keep the proper few inches between them. She smelled nice, a little flowery, he noted. The princess looked up at him through her lashes and smiled. He smiled back, a little stiffly.
"I must say," she said after a few moments, "You are quite a good dancer Lieutenant."

"Did you expect anything else, princess?" He tried to ignore how much 'princess' sounded like a pet name. The princess in question certainly did. She looked around the room and said, "I've found that most naval officers are not much for dancing."
Killian nodded. "It's probably because they do so much of it on their ships."
She looked at his face again, eyes inquisitive. "Is that so?"
"Aye, the waves make for an unpredictable dance partner." He replied.
She didn't say anything. She just looked at him, with her soft face. He was starting to feel a little uncomfortable and decided to look at the couples around them. Most went through practiced steps, in the way that they did everything in life; following the master plan. The princess however felt perfectly comfortable following his sometimes chaotic movements as he danced on his own whims.

The music silenced and they stepped away from each other. The princess looked at him with an expression he could not place. Then she curtsied and said, "You are a horse of a different colour. Thank you, Lieutenant."
He bowed stiffly. "The pleasure was mine, princess."
Then he retreated as fast as he could to his wall.

The rest of the hours went by quickly. Before long, someone announced that the princess was retiring for the night. That was his cue. He made his way to the other side of the room, where she had entered. He casually leaned against a wall close by.

Not long after, the guests took their leave. In the hubbub, he slid behind a tapestry. Quietly as he could he turned around and felt the wall. There was supposed to be a door handle there. He found it and the door swung open outwardly. It led to a narrow hallway, at the end of which would be a flight of stairs.

He had been going over the lay out in his head all night and he was pleased to find that his clients had been very detailed and accurate in their description. Of course, he would've expected nothing less.

The stairs were long leading far above the ballroom. At the end there was a door. He opened it a fraction and saw a stoney hallway lit with candles. On one side it went around the corner. On the other side there was a heavy wooden door. Killian walked towards it, alert for the guards patrolling these parts of the castle. But as his clients had predicted, there were none close. He opened the door, got through it and closed it again.

"I had a feeling it would be you."

A/N: So I had this idea, but I'm not sure if it's any good. If you are intrigued please let me know! I will update if people say 'yeah, we're into it'

I can also promise that after this one, the chapters will be longer.