Reese was right. There really was a tight schedule to keep. Not that she didn't expect it before. But the fact that she couldn't find the time to talk to him after his ear tug was proof of the rowdy and glittery chaos that presently surrounded her was intense. All she could do was try to find his face in the sea of hairdressers, stylists, and cameramen backstage and convey her apology through her facial expression. His conveyed a wink followed by a look that told her not to worry and that he clearly understood given the chaos. She made a mental note to talk to him as soon as all of this was wrapped up. But in the meantime, Reese was just as amused as she was at the whole thing. She chuckled to herself and smiled as she was directed to a chair to start her hair and makeup. She was still waiting for her ladies in waiting to arrive with the dress they had made for her for the occasion. But until then, she was graced with conversation from her the men handling her light brown wavy hair and makeup.

"Ok, honey, I haven't really seen your dress yet, so I don't exactly have a guide. So what are you going for? Sexy? Sweet? Seductive? What part of the beauty spectrum do you want to land on?"

Enola had never put much thought into her appearance. And though she wasn't a completely hopeless case when it came to all things fashion and makeup, she hardly ever found a need for them. Don't get her wrong, Enola admired those that loved it, but she just wasn't the type. Plus, there was the fact that she never really had anyone to "impress" before (she was plenty impressive on her own). And she didn't really want to change herself for anyone. Not the general public or Reese and his family. So that's what she said,

"I don't really want to change anything. I'm happy with me as is."

Her hairstylist was intrigued and looked at his friend preparing her makeup in silent agreement.

"That's so cute, alright, so we won't change much. If anything, all we'll do is enhance what you already have. You know, sell the whole natural beauty and silent confidence angle to the audience."

Enola let them do their jobs and relaxed as they worked with skillful hands around her head and face.

And because her ask was simpler than most, they didn't spend as much time on her as they would have on another girl. And not long after that had her ladies in waiting come with her gown and by God, was it gorgeous. She had seen some of the dresses that the others had worn, and yes, they were lovely, but she could honestly say that her ladies went above and beyond with hers. It was undoubtedly the most beautiful teal, off the shoulder gown she'd ever laid eyes on. And it turned out to be the only one that was that tone. Others opted for vibrant yellows and flirtatious pinks.

She just had to hug those responsible because she was at a loss for words.

"Ladies, you've outdone yourselves. All this effort for me?" Enola was moved and just a bit guilty but touched nevertheless.

Lillian, the head lady in waiting, was smiling and said,

"It's really no problem. We're here to do our best for you."

Enola could only hug and thank them again.

As she changed into it and looked at herself, she discovered that...she wasn't opposed to how she looked. In fact, she rather liked it. An elevated version of herself (that she was glad that she still recognized) stared back at her. She looked like a future princess. She chuckled at the reminder in her head that told her that there was little to no chance that that would happen. It was enough of a miracle that she made it this far away from her brothers. Wait. Her brothers. They'd undoubtedly be watching her tonight. Mycroft would probably be with his friends from the government, relishing the fact that his unruly little sister somehow made it into the selection and, by extension, the royal palace. Hell, he probably thought that he was already royalty just by that point alone. But she knew Sherlock would be watching out of sheer curiosity, and her mother, wherever she may be, might...well...Enola hoped she'd at least watch, but she knew she likely wouldn't. It had been almost three years since she left without a trace, but she assumed (wished, actually) that she at least kept tabs on her daughter. She tried not to dwell on the saddening thoughts and got out of the dressing room.

It was then she had nearly bumped into who Enola would consider the greatest pain in the ass she had ever met. One of the selected that opted for a dawn-tinted garment and leagues above January in the bitch department. Lorica Billson. A Cambridge girl that was born rich and would likely die that way as well. Entitled. Cunning. Wicked. And she was now glowering at Enola as she took her in. But Enola had detected something that crossed her scrutinizing eyes. If she wasn't, well, her , she might've missed it. But it was there. Clear as the pure sea. Jealousy .

"Give me your dress."

Pause. Enola must have misheard. She had to have misheard.

" Excuse me?" She couldn't be serious. But apparently, she was because Lorica wasn't budging,

"You heard me. Give me. Your dress"

With every venomous word she spoke, she stepped closer to Enola. With her eyebrows raised in entertainment, an unafraid Enola responded.

"Absolutely not. Yours is just fine."

Lorica had a lot of guts. She'd give her that.

So much so that she had started to harshly grab at her dress in an attempt to take it off. She was trying to ruin it.

Now .

As much as Enola didn't exactly care to be in this competition other than, for you know, her freedom from namely Mycroft, etc., she did know the rules of this game. She knew that if any selected girl were to hurt another "contestant" ( ugh ), she'd be immediately kicked out. And she knew that it would be worse for her to hurt Lorica's type. Enola knew that she'd have to exercise patience and self-control if she wanted to last here. But she had never been so tempted to use what Edith had taught her all those years ago. Plus, she knew a small crowd was beginning to build and susurrate around her, so she had to be particularly cautious. So she stepped back and wordlessly withdrew her hand from her gown as swiftly as possible and walked away. She made sure to take a path that ensured Reese and his parents were in earshot and view. Because she was sure, Lorica would be on her tail. And as bitchy as she was, she wasn't foolish enough to try her nonsense in front of the royals. Her manipulative side wouldn't allow her to.

From the corners of Enola's eyes, she could see a few selected girls that shared a more subtle version of Lorica's sentiment. Others were either impressed with her look or chastising their now stressed ladies in waiting because they were under the impression that her dress should have been there's, to begin with. But there was one girl, Benita James or Benny, as she insisted on being called that seemed to have an expression of pure respect. And Enola appreciated that more than she'd like to admit. It was already so hostile in this overblown beauty pageant, and it was nice to know that at least one other girl didn't want to slit her throat.

The interviews were going as well as they could have. Enola wasn't exactly nervous. Reese and his parents, King Dixon and Queen Athena, were sitting off on one side of the studio stage. They observed each selected girl's interviews. Lorica went, flirted, and the crowd ate it up. Enola could only roll her eyes and wait her turn. and as it came, she was welcomed to thunderous applause. She curtsied to the royals, and as she looked back up, she could see something in Reese's eyes that she hadn't entirely understood. But his expression gave her goosebumps, darkening cheeks, and perhaps a couple butterflies. At his observation of her state, he smiled just a little wider. Damn him , she cursed internally. She'd blame her blush on the makeup. But besides that, the interview went well. She'd managed to unintentionally make the audience laugh a few times (and Reese too, though she tried to convince herself that that hardly mattered to her). While also making some pretty hard-hitting and sometimes gritty points.

Well, she was already here; so why not use her possibly growing platform for good? Reese seemed to be impressed, and his parents weren't specifically displeased either (she wouldn't care if they were to be very frank), but she'd take the win for what it was. And as she got up to leave, she saw a smooth Reese tug his ear as he sat up while she curtsied and exited the stage to applause.

It would be another hour before the interviews wrapped up and another half hour before she and Reese finally got the opportunity to talk to each other.

"Finally," he laughed. Enola chuckled too.

"Right? And I hate to hurry you, but we kind of have to get a move on because I still have to change out of this thing and then get ready for dinner soon or are we having dinner in this and then changing?"

"Of course, and I think we're having dinner before you have to change, but before I forget to say it, you look stunning and were fantastic out there."

He had almost sounded a little flustered as he said it before he regained himself. Enola had looked down with a smile and nudged him and asked,

"Is that what you wanted to tell me?"

She was joking, of course

And in response, he returned the smile and said

"yes, but not just that, I came to ask your advice. You remember, January? From the great room?'

Did she ever? How could she not?

But Enola had tried to keep a controlled, pleasant expression on her face because ever since she had decided to be Reese's friend on the inside of this competition, she had promised to let her opinion come after he had spent time with whatever selected girl. She didn't want to influence his decision before he got the chance to form a first impression of any of the girls. So she listened and let him know he could go on.

"well, I was thinking about taking her riding so that I could get to know her, what do you think? Do you think that she'd be up for it?" he was earnest and it sort of made her heart flutter. He really was sweet. She'd have to figure out why she was reacting to him like this later, but for now, she'd lend him her ear and advice.

"Of course, I think she'd have tea with you on the side walk if you asked her"

Reese only snickered in relief and joy. It was nice to know that she could get him to loosen up from his usually uptight princely state. They were nearing the dining hall. And in a tone and act that feigned awe, Enola continued.

"Oh, and do let me know how it goes, Viscount."

Still smiling with mirth swimming in his eyes at her theatrics, Reese replied, his hands behind his back, playing along,

"Why, of course, Lady Enola," and in a more sincere tone,

"you will always be the first to know."

And for the second time that night, she had mentally cursed him for those damned butterflies he always prompted to erupt in her whenever he looked at her like that.