Wraithvine and anyone ze believes will help with the task (possibly meaning no one) must infiltrate a ball and rescue a prince from the clutches of his evil (yet, alas, overwhelmingly popular and powerful) Queen Mother. All without being recognized or exposed during the escape, and before the clock strikes one in the morning, for some reason… -- Deathshead419
[AN: Pure evil requires dedicated choice, and I don't believe anyone living is pure evil. Not even in fiction. They have motives and reasons for doing what they do. And they almost always believe that they are doing good]
An expensive ball lead to expectations. Glitz. Glitter. Cloth-of-gold and every display of wealth and power. Gemstones, gold, and everything that could be worn in display. Exotic dyes. Exotic cloth. Complicated hairstyles that took teams to accomplish. That was for the invited guests.
The letter Wraithvine carried was not such an invitation, but it did contain a plan and people who could help. Of course a grand ball would have entertainment, and the play on offer to the gilded lords included hirself. All they needed was to make Wraithvine look like a mummer.
"You're too authentic," complained one of the crew. "Too real. You need to look fake." They hustled hir through a gauntlet as they changed Wraithvine from the skin out. Artfully threadbare shoes, one wheeze from falling apart. Trousers with multicoloured patches where no patches should ever go. A robe with orchestrated tatters and trailing threads. Also patched. A coat of many pockets.
Wraithvine insisted on keeping hir hat. It was hir Wizarding hat, and ze would not part with it for any reason. "This has been with me since I became a Wizard. You may adjust it, but it is mine, and it stays with me."
They added gold stars and dangling gimcrack, then coached Wraithvine in both hir role and hir magic act - the key to the entire plan.
"This is stage magic, not real magic. Prince goes into the box, you do the turnaround. Dagger, dagger, dagger..." Demonstrating the puncturing of the prop, "turnaround again, and it's empty. Fein shock and awe. Open all the doors, fake that a dagger hurts you. Close it all up; dagger, dagger, dagger; turnaround again, and open the big door for the flock of doves. Oooh, ah. Applause. Curtain. Exeunt. Out comes the dancing girls. It's all trickery and trapdoors."
Wraithvine decided hir patter was better as an incompetent stage magician. The linking rings would get caught on the lace of hir cuffs, ze would pull the wilty wand gag. Have more balls appearing during the ball and cup trick. That would cover for any flubs ze made making the Prince disappear.
All before the stroke of midnight.
Why the stroke of midnight?
Once the deed was done, Wraithvine covered hirself in an illusion of a footman, and watched for the event at midnight.
The clock struck the appointed hour, and the Queen took the podium. "My lords, ladies, and gentlethem," she began. "Long have I, the regent of the realm, been questioned regarding my choice of a groom. I have watched over this kingdom since my husband left my stepson in my care, owing to the king's unfortunate death. The Prince has almost come of age. In fact, in this very hour, it has become his birthday, and therefore I call him forth to accept my hand in marriage. Cementing the power in this realm."
The Queen was only a handful of years older than the escaped Prince. The perfect age to supplant a mother in a lustful lord's eyes. The perfect age to wind power around her pinkie finger before arranging an unfortunate death for her husband. Thus seizing the crown. The perfect age to sleaze on her ward.
Gross.
No wonder he wanted to vanish from the area.
Wraithvine was going to arrange an "unfortunate accident" for the Queen, sometime soon. Sometime after the hullaballoo of the search for the absent Prince. When all the guards were starting to scour the countryside.
Nobody would suspect a thing.
[Photo by Ali Pli on Unsplash]
If you like my stories, please Check out my blog and Follow me. Or share them with your friends! Or visit my hub site to see what else I'm up to.
Send me a prompt [33 remaining prompts!]
