I reach for the revolver lying on my vanity table and hold it up for examination. It is lighter than my old one. This one is silver with a polished finish and almost seems like an extension of my own arm as I hold the grip and let my forefinger slip over the trigger. I aim at the large window and my finger pulls-but there is no shot. A lady never shoots a revolver in her own bedroom, and certainly not a princess. Not unless she absolutely must, of course.

Melia always tells me that a lady should never leave her house without pearls and a revolver. Rules like these, she said, were made for our own safety. I asked her why I needed pearls for my safety, and she proceeded to give me a list of ways that I could kill a person using only a string of pearls. Of course, this scared me half to death-but soon enough, there was an occasion where I had to make use of one of those suggested ways.

I put the revolver down beside a few bottles of scent, and I pick up my pearls. I wrap them around my neck, fasten them in the front, and twist them around before looking at myself in the mirror. I'm pleased with the outcome, and the ivory lace dress I wear fits me comfortably. It is quite a contrast with my brown skin and brings out my colour more, which my mother always liked. I feel the delicate fabric between my finger and thumb before smoothing it out again. The silk beneath the lace feels soft against my skin.

At that moment, Melia comes bursting into the room, ridden with anxiety about the ball. She is also flailing about strangely.

'Oh gods, Bel, what will I do? What on earth will I do?'

I turn around to face her and arch my eyebrow as I wear an amused smile. She is not amused by this and lets out a frustrated grumble. The space between her eyebrows wrinkle.

'Oh Melia,' I say, wagging my finger at her as I tut, 'a lady never grumbles.'

She is forever reminding me of the rules of being a lady, that I find it is time for her to have a taste of her own medicine. Suffice it to say though, that it does not go down very well.

'This is not a time for jokes!' she snaps at me. Her hands fumble around her waist, 'oh gods, I'm going to die.'

'Try breathing,' I say to her, with a grin that stretches from ear to ear, 'I hear that usually works well.'

My sarcasm flies over her head. Her hands are on my bed as she supports herself and she's breathing so rapidly that I think she might faint. I rush towards her and try to figure out what's the matter. I ask her, but all that comes out are shallow breaths. Her hand points to her back in such a frenzied way and I suddenly realise that her corset is just too tight.

Quickly, I untie the knot at the bottom and loosen the strings. Melia exhales heavily and almost collapses to the floor. I put my hand on my hip and stare at her, trying to suppress laughter.

Melia grabs a handful of the duvet and pulls herself up to standing position. In no quicker than five seconds, she has composed herself, and is wearing a dry smile.

'Why on earth was your corset so tight?' I ask her incredulously, 'in fact, why are you wearing a corset at all? You know it's difficult to move around in them.'

Melia rolls her eyes, 'it's that bloody Lila,' she says.

I open my mouth, 'a lady never swe-

'Oh hush,' she says, waving a hand dismissively in the air, 'those aren't rules. Just guidelines,' she grins demurely. 'Now we must get a move on. The carriage is waiting for us outside and Lady Elana is getting her corset in a twist-you know how much she despises lateness.'

I nod and glance at the revolver on my dresser. I pace towards it and lift my dress. Attached to my inner leg, there is a strap with a pocket for a blade, and a pocket for a revolver. I load the revolver, checking the safety straight after. Then I tuck it into the small pocket before letting my dress fall. A few strands of dark hair fall around my face and I brush them out of my eyes.

After sorting myself out, I turn around to Melia, who is finally ready. I smile at her and put a hand on my hip. 'Alright sister,' I say to her, 'let's go and kill and ourselves a Duke.'