The ballroom seemed to fill up in no time. Even with only two days notice, the inn guests eagerly made room for the party in their schedules. When surrounded by the primal nature of the forest, an ounce of elegance and refinement effectively satisfied the needs of the wealthy. The men, dressed in their suits and tails, gloated to one another, bragging of investments, business ventures, and just money in general. Goldy had to laughed to herself, for they all reminded her of roosters, squawking and puffing up their feathers in displays of dominance. Looking around, she wondered how she had ever put up with them and their silly games of elitism. The women were not much better. When not bragging about their husband's money, they boasted on possessions, parties, and their own sense of style. Goldy sighed though. She knew the hypocrisy of her sudden adversative opinion. Her actions were no different merely days ago. At least she was comfortable in this environment. Heaven knows Gretel must be scared stiff.

Goldy suddenly remembered her companion and searched for a head of raven hair in the crowd. Though knowing Gretel, it would be wiser to search the outskirts of the gaggle. Goldy walked around, occasionally nodding to fellow guests with a smile, but ultimately remaining on task. She could not stand the idea of Gretel hovering off to the side, shy and broken.

A pair of hands suddenly took her waist from behind. She gasped at the sudden touch, but was relieved to hear a familiar voice.

"And how are you this fine evening?" Jonathan Pierce asked while leaning his head against hers in affection.

Goldy spun around and lightly pushed him away. "Really, Jonathan," she spoke softly, "This is hardly the place for informalities." Though she could not help but smile at him.

"My apologies, my dear. But I could not help myself. You are simply too beautiful tonight," he said, taking her hand and placing a kiss on it.

Goldy's heart quickened its pace. "Dear me, Jonathan," she swooned, "I'm liable to blush."

He smiled wickedly. "I do enjoy when you blush," he said, putting his hand around her waist and pulling her closer. But Goldy wriggled away from his hold.

"If you will pardon me, Jonathan," she said while looking around, "I am in search of a friend."

Jonathan took her hand before she could run off. "Let us look together," he said while leading her through the crowd. "So just who are we looking for?"

Goldy removed her hand from his and stepped ahead of him. "Miss Eberly. She's rather short with lovely raven locks. There is a good chance she is with her camera."

Such a thought visibly stunned Jonathan. "Camera? Is she the little German urchin?"

Goldy did not hesitate to turn on her heels and stare him down heatedly. "She is not an urchin," Goldy snapped at him. "She is a fine young woman with more talent in a single strand of hair than you have in your entire body," she pointed her finger in his face.

The strength of the angry retort forced Jonathan to step back. "My dear, I do believe you misinterpreted my intention," he said, "I am sure she is a fine woman, but one must admit she is rather unorthodox."

"Personally, I believe that to be her best trait," Goldy countered. She turned away from him to continue her search. Feeling obligated to meet such a woman, Jonathan continued to follow her though he kept his thoughts to himself. Music poured from the bandstand. An elegant waltz was being played though no one was dancing yet. However, the musicians had attracted the attention of one very special guest. The lower half of a lilac dress stuck out from beneath the black cloth of a camera. Apparently the musicians were interesting enough to be captured in a photo. Goldy sighed in relief and smiled upon finding her friend. Jonathan followed her gaze and blinked in surprise.

"Is that her beneath the cloth?"

"Yes," Goldy replied, "It is good to know she is enjoying herself."

"Is that entirely proper to bring a camera to a formal social event?" Jonathan could not take his eyes off of the rather perplexing sight.

"Someone must document the night. I dare say it will become ritual to bring cameras to parties," Goldy defended her friend.

Gretel emerged from beneath the black cloth, her hair still perfectly in place. Once again, Goldy had proven her abilities in the cosmetics arts, effectively decorating Gretel's formal updo with white rhinestones. She looked positively breath-taking. Even Jonathan took notice of the miraculous transformation.

"Goodness," he almost gasped, "Is that the same young woman who has been traipsing around the inn taking photos?"

"Indeed it is," Goldy looked at her almost with a sense of pride.

"She seems to be drawing much attention to herself," he noted.

Goldy's brow furrowed and she looked around at the nearby guests. People were gawking at Gretel as though she were an animal in a cage. They would occasionally turn and whisper to each other, no doubt gossiping and passing judgement. Goldy's cheeks grew hot with irritation. Such pig-headed, conceited nonsense! Does not one person have the decency to introduce themselves to her? In a huff, she grabbed Jonathan's wrist roughly and pulled him along as she approached Gretel.

"Gretel dear, I would like to introduce you to someone," she said rather loudly, as though she wanted the other guests to hear.

The German turned from her work and smiled at the gentleman Goldy had in a death grip.

"Gretel, this is Jonathan Pierce," she said, nudging him closer. "Jonathan, this is my dear friend Gretel Eberly,"

A moment of realization hit Gretel upon hearing his name. This was the gentleman from the photograph, the very one Goldy had ravaged in the woods. She stared rather wide eyed at him as he bent down and politely placed a kiss on her hand. The relationship suddenly seemed very one sided, considering Gretel had witnessed him in the midst of an act of lust. His naivety to this only made things much more awkward for her.

"How do you do?" he asked.

"Uh... very well, thank you," Gretel almost forgot to answer.

"Gretel dear, it would make me very happy if you would photograph me and Jonathan while we dance," Goldy stated loudly again. She grabbed his wrist and put his hand on her waist.

Her gentleman looked as though someone had turned his head full circle. "Dance? But we..."

"Please, Jonathan dear," Goldy hushed him, "I simply must have a memory of this night."

Gretel adjusted her equipment so it turned towards the dance floor. "Go ahead and dance. Try not to look at the camera," she smiled.

"Thank you, my lovely," Goldy winked just as she pulled Jonathan to the dance floor. The sight was very humorous, the way she flung her gentleman around like a lasso. It was a wonder he was not dizzy. But as soon as Goldy stepped onto the floor, the protocol of dance seemed to overcome her, and she graciously let Jonathan place his hand on her waist and lead her in the waltz. She might as well have been walking on air. Such grace and poise had never been witnessed by the young German photographer. Now she was more than willing to make an artistic piece of this moment. She just needed the right second to click the shutter.

An audience was beginning to gather to observe the rather curious circumstance as though it were a floor show. Only Goldy noticed the attention they were drawing. But it merely fed her enthusiasm and pushed her to perform at her best.

Amidst the crowd, a red cape stood watching the display as well. Her smile was one of great satisfaction. How fitting that her two companions should steal the entire evening. She heard Gretel's camera click. The crowd murmured, clearly impressed and excited to be witnessing the artistic process of photography. Gretel emerged again from the black cloth, but her content smile disappeared when she noticed her expanding audience. She seemed to prove in an instant that one need not be intentionally performing to have stage fright. She slowly reached into her bag and found another exposure plate. As she reset her equipment, she desperately searched for a familiar face in the crowd. Fortunate for her, Red was there. Her smile sent a wave of motivation through the young photographer. Gretel returned to her black cloth, instantly feeling its protection from the gawking crowd. Remembering her task to Goldy, she held the dancing couple in frame again.

A sudden scream erupted from the crowd. The guests began to part to make way for a tall navy blue coat and its many followers. They headed straight for the dancing couple, obviously in search of something. Upon seeing their approach, Jonathan pushed Goldy behind him protectively.

"I must say, gentlemen! This is very undignified and rude," he addressed the tall lieutenant.

"Don't waste my time, you git," Bluff stated meanly, "Where is Madame Primrose?"

Jonathan seemed ready to ask for a duel. But before he could open his mouth in anger, a flurry of red cloth bolted in front of him. Red stood between the two men and glared up at the lieutenant.

"I told you I did not want any disruption of this ball," Red growled at him.

"It does not matter any longer," he snapped at her, "We are leaving. Our job here is completed."

"What do you mean?"

Bluff held out his hand to one of his men. The officer placed a piece of rag in his palm, which he promptly presented to Red. "We found your criminal and chased him to a cliff. I managed to grab his shirt just before he fell over the side. But his clothing ripped in my hand, sending him to his death below."

A large gasp was heard amongst the guests, and they whispered to each other over the news. Gretel stood next to Goldy, instinctually taking her hand for comfort. But Red was not through. She squinted at the rag in her hand and then back up to Bluff.

"How high was the cliff? Where is the body?" she demanded to know.

"It is far too dark to know for sure," he stated, "We could see no way of climbing down the cliff to retrieve the remains. If you want the body, you can collect it in the morning yourself. As for me and my men, we bid you adieu."

The tall lieutenant refused to bow. He merely turned and led his men out the giant double doors. The crowd watched them go, only waiting until they were out of sight to continue their mad gossiping. Red stood with the rag clutched tight in her hand. She looked to the floor determinedly, but her mind was clearly contemplating her next move.

Gretel came up behind her. "Red, what do you think?"

The innkeeper did not answer for a second or two. Her eyes drifted back up to the open terrace doors and scanned into the darkness of the outside.

"I want to see for myself."


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