Kagome stared down at the contents of the package. She'd sent word to the prince that the rest of the supplies had arrived, half hoping he'd deliver the hairs himself. But the entire citadel was up in arms about the upcoming ball, so she hadn't been too disappointed when a dragon the size of her arm perched on the edge of her anvil, her name scrawled across the bundle in its mouths.
Its twin heads bobbed up and down, tugging at her sleeves when she got close. Laughing softly, she ducked into the back, pulling out a few grapes as payment for a job well done. Each one snorted in turn, the soft plumes of fire heating her fingertips before she set the package down and undid the string.
She'd expected the hair and perhaps a small note, but it was too long and heavy, a frown furrowing her brow as she opened it. An intricate combination of silver and rubies glinted up at her, catching the rays of the morning sun, and Kagome gave the dragon a panicked look. "What is he doing? He's already paid me for the sword! I don't need anything more—"
The beast jumped over to the table, nudging the hairpin out of the way to reveal a small envelope, the crest of the Western Clan stamped across the ivory parchment. The dragon stomped on it with their front feet, and Kagome picked it up, silently breaking the seal before pulling out the letter from inside. She only had to read the first few lines to know what the rest entailed, and she sighed, eying the gleaming hairpin.
He'd invited her to the ball.
The invitation itself was in someone else's handwriting—either the queen's or one of the various handmaidens she had helping her with the endeavour—but the note at the bottom about how he would be saving a dance for her belonged to no one but the prince.
Kagome blushed at the thought of being close enough to him to inhale his intoxicating scent. Truth be told, she'd thought about going to the ball, but while anyone in the village was welcome to attend, the inner sanctum, where the royals would be, was invite-only, so she hadn't seen the point.
With an official invite, she'd actually be able to see the prince, and she groaned, burying her face in her hands. The infatuation had to stop. Nothing would come of it. He probably just wanted his sword that much sooner and wouldn't have been able to see her otherwise due to preparations.
But then, why promise her a dance?
"This would be so much easier if your master were a commoner," she groused, offering the dragon another grape. "Though there's nothing common about him." She inspected the hairpin, turning it over in her fingers. The silver was expertly woven, the cut of the rubies just so, two hanging down from the top of the pin on thin chains.
It was exquisite, and Kagome sighed. One night in a fairy tale wouldn't hurt, right? She could dress up, deliver the sword, and if he still wanted a dance, she would indulge him. After all, who in their right mind would refuse an invitation from the prince?
Straightening her shoulders, she stroked the dragon's back and kissed both heads. "Tell your master the sword will be ready by the night of the ball. And thank him for the gift." She wasn't sure how the royals communicated with their scaled companions, but she was sure they'd tell him as best they could.
Rolling up her sleeves, Kagome got to work on the prince's sword. The materials were lined up in the order she'd need them, and the mould for the handle was ready to go as well. Setting the hairpin and invitation aside, she plucked three silver strands from the package, creating a small barrier around them to keep his youki intact.
She knew what lay ahead of her, and the work it would entail, but if truth be told, she wanted to impress him. It shouldn't matter. He should just be another customer—and possibly help her get her foot in the door with creating weapons on a larger scale—but she couldn't keep her heart out of the game anymore.
The rubies caught her eye again, and her mouth lifted into a smirk. If she was going to attend the ball, she might as well make an impression.