There had been no time for painting that morning, though Kit still felt her hands compulsively reaching for a brush that wasn’t there, her fingers closing around a strainer full of flour instead. The kitchens were particularly warm that day, the ovens having been on since the crack of dawn in preparation for the masked ball planned for that evening. The early hour of her rising, combined with the comfortable temperature, was making it exceedingly difficult for Kit to pretend she was not asleep on her feet. For she had awoken at her usual time, but not by sunbeams that straggled their way into the lowest part of the castle, but by the burly kitchen matron, Madam Roslyn, shaking her awake. “I’m not running a convalescent home,” came the hiss in her ear. “Get up and turn the pastries for tonight.”

Thus, though Kit outwardly appeared to be baking and prepping and tasting, in her mind’s eye she was stoking brush against canvas, capturing the minute details of her everyday surroundings that fascinated her so. It was only when she realized she had stuffed hand-plucked raspberries into the wrong tart, earning a resounding cuff about her ears from the Madam, did she really feel awake. After that, Kit made an sincere effort to pay attention and push painting from her mind, though she couldn’t resist a few envious glances towards those maids allowed to decorate the cakes and pastries and desserts.

The day passed in much of its usual fashion, but there was a palpable undercurrent of nervous excitement as the evening drew closer. Twice, Madam Roslyn broke down in tears and declared the evening would be a disaster. Three times, she threatened to fire everyone working in the kitchens for their incompetence. But when the first guests began to arrive in splendid carriages swathed in gold and ivory, colors Kit could only dream of, the food was cooked to excellency and ready to be delivered to the ballroom. Pastries and other such delicacies would be served last - an effective shackle to the oven for Kit.

But freedom came quicker than Kit might’ve expected. As the first platters began to go up, the Madam sat down for a moment to celebrate the success with a glass of sherry. There was a smattering of stifled giggles at this, for Madam was a notorious fan of sherry and never had just one glass. Sensing her opportunity, Kit cast aside her apron, revealing the simple grey dress beneath, and stole up the servant’s passage behind the servers weighed down with carved meats and exocitc fruits. She only wanted a peek at all of the fine ladies and gentleman in their feathers and beads and gowns. One look would be sufficient, and she could paint it from memory. She was familiar with the interior of the palace from her illicit early morning painting jaunts, and tread the same path towards the ballroom, sticking close to the shadows. Upon reaching a deserted landing, she cloaked herself in the darkness of its curtains, and felt her mouth open in awe at the splendor she saw below.

Kit had been totally engrossed in the dancing and the music. The ladies moved so serenely, with such grace, a perfect combination of swirling dresses and pretty smiles. Men bowed to their partners and laughed with each other, exuding confidence with every flash of their dazzling smiles. The orchestra plucked at their strings and transitioned to different jigs at a surprising speed - everybody seemed to know the dance no matter the tune, and she distantly wondered how they remembered all of the steps. Kit knew she’d never be able to do the scene justice, that her hands would never quite catch up to her eyes, but she was enamored with it all completely anyway. So entranced was she that when her name was softly called behind her, Kit whirled on the spot, her hand flying to her mouth to avoid crying out.

“Amadeus,” she breathed, grey eyes as wide as saucers. “I mean - Your Highness. Forgive me.” She dipped into a shallow curtsey, embarrassed with herself for having forgotten to use his formal title. His frequent visits to the kitchen, where he would often sneak away the pastries and sweet treats she had made for the following day, meant she saw him often, and even had the chance to converse with him. But he was still the prince, the heir of the throne, and Kit knew he should be addressed as such. To make matters worse, she had discarded her apron, and could not pretend to be roaming the castle on kitchen business.

“I came to see the dancing,” she admitted softly, gaze trained firmly to the ground at their feet. It was not that she suddenly found the floor so interesting, though there was a pretty woven carpet there, but she was still too nervous to meet Adamdeus’ eyes. “I find your guests lovely in all their splendor and finery.” Summoning her courage, Kit dared a peek at him, and saw he was also dressed in a handsome black suit. “I won’t keep you from your guests any longer, m’lord. Pardon me.” Kit made as though to move past Amadeus, squeezing between him and banister rod.

(Omg no! I don’t feel that way at all, I love your style~)

Kit tried to hide her relief at Amadeus’ insistence that she call him by his given name, but her emotions were plainly written all over her pale face. Her gray eyes shone a little brighter and she had to school her features to keep from answering his warm laugh with one of her own. Her attempt at the proper sobriety befitting a conversation with the prince failed when he mentioned the black currant slice. This time, she laughed with him, for the keen hope in his voice was too evident not to. “I made extras, with you in mind,” she confessed, her cheeks taking on a pretty flush. “The servers will be bringing them up shortly.”

Her interest peaked considerably when Amadeus mentioned drawing - she knew he was fond of still-life. For a heartbeat, she wondered what it would be like to paint him. With this attention below them, on the dancers, and his casual stance leaning against the banister, Kit knew he would make for an impressive portrait. Add a mask, and she knew what she would call the painting - A Prince in Disguise. But the vision dissolved a moment later, and she shook her head to clear it.

She had turned to flee back to the kitchens when she felt his touch, light but firm, on her wrist. When he withdrew his fingers, she circled her wrist with the opposing hand - she could still feel the heat from where he had touched her. Once more, she averted her eyes away from his, anxious that he shouldn't see the impact his words had on her. Her cheeks were burning again at the mention of the ladies he was set to dance with - the ladies downstairs in their satin dresses and expensive jewels. Standing there in her maid’s dress and bound hair, Kit felt exceedingly plain and simple.

“Accompany you? To the ball?” Privately, Kit wondered if Amadeus knew how much she enjoyed his visits to the kitchen, how much those visits meant to her on the days when she was confined to the kitchens and couldn’t paint. If he had any idea, he’d know Kit was the one who should be grateful. “I have nothing to wear, no mask and certainly no dress. And Madam Roslyn...” she trailed off. “Of course - of course, I would love to come with you.” She choked on the words slightly, amazed at her own boldness. “However, I’m afraid it’s quite impossible.”

Amadeus was thoroughly amused with Kit's reaction, one of his brows crept up. "I'm very glad you came to your senses. You wouldn't have to worry about Madam Roslyn, I don't usually ask for favours from our staff so I'm sure she won't miss you for a few hours." It was true he tried to respect his staff, he rarely pestered them for extra requests. Overall he thought they were treated rather lavishly compared to other castle staff he had seen when he had attended banquets with his parents elsewhere. It had quite frankly opened his eyes to reality; there was a line between the rich and the poor and it had been made very obvious to him from a young age that the poor didn't mingle with the upper class unless they were personally spoken to. His younger self had been polite, just as he had been taught, but as like all children Amadeus had his moments where he demanded extra chocolate to be left on his pillow at night after the housekeeping staff had made his bed for the evening. Or the times when he would cry blue bloody murder because he had been fished up peas that had touched his carrots. His parents were usually always away, so he had grown up with nannies offering around the clock care for him. Nowadays, he was much more considerate and very much appreciated anyone who lent him a hand.

"My mother has always kept some of my sister's old gowns..." Amadeus said slowly. His sister had been banished from the castle grounds on the day of her 18th birthday, and was barred from using any royal titles because she had allowed the prince of Ansett into the castle archives in an attempt to burn the history books. Amadeus missed Andrea, and his mother did too. Losing a child was hard, but having to forbid one from having any contact with you because she had tried to remove the family secret permanently. "I'm sure there's something in Andrea's wardrobe that would suit you..." Amadeus shifted into his feet, his nerves beginning to kick in. His suggestion had sounded so much more thrilling in his head but he'd already shared his thoughts; there was no going back now.

Except, voices were making their way up the stairs. Amadeus grimaced, one belonged to an uppity girl who drove him nuts. Anytime he had to hold a conversation with her it would go around in circles. The other belonged to Garmin. Garmin was a cousin of his, and Amadeus didn't particularly enjoy his company either. Garmin always turned every activity into a chore. He was very bland. Amadeus and pulled Kit into him, backing them to the banister again. "I'm very pleased to hear about those black currant slices." He whispered to her, having to bend a little. Amadeus figured that if the girl and Garmin glanced over they would only see the back of a young man talking sweetly to his girl.

"I'm sorry..." Amadeus told Kit, stepping away from her and holding out his elbow once Garmin had co had passed. "I didn't want to talk to either of those two." He explained sheepishly. "If you still want to come down for a dance, I'd very much love that, Kit, but if you don't, I won't blame you either..."

Her emotions now running fully out of check, Kit felt her smile becoming broader as Amadeus continued speaking, insisting the Madam would not mind her temporary absence. If she had even noticed by now - she was likely already on her second glass of sherry. Her brow furrowed at the mention of Andrea, the former princess and his sister. Andrea had already been gone when Kit came to the work in the kitchens, so she had never known her. But from the way Amadeus spoke of her, she sensed that he missed her. Occasionally, Kit thought of her own siblings, all of whom were older and had grown up as destitute as she. If they had managed to escape the early impoverishment and make better lives for themselves, she didn’t know. But she remembered them as best she could, painting them all in fields of wheat and barley with the sun on their backs.

Kit nodded her assent, the desire to spend more time with Amadeus and enjoy the dancing firsthand outweighing whatever rational refusal she had planned. “Alright, then. I know the way to Andrea’s former chambers. I’ll -” her next words were cut off as he abruptly grabbed her, bringing them both close to the banister once again. Kit found herself within his tight embrace and utterly incapable of speech, her arms rising instinctively to wrap around his neck. For a heartbeat, his lips brushed against her skin as he whispered in her ear, and she knew her entire body must be alight with a flaming blush. She was about to stutter a nonsensical reply when he released her, and the moment ended just as quickly as it had begun.

“It’s - it’s quite alright,” she breathed, wide eyes drinking him in. Slender hands shook slightly as they moved to adjust her hair - a few pale strands had fallen out of her bun and were framing her face. She took his proffered elbow with a grateful smile, and marveled at how steady and solid he felt whereas she felt like her insides had melted. “I’d be honored to attend with you, Amadeus. I’ll go quickly and change, and meet you back in the ballroom. We had better separate for now - I’m sure Their Majesties will be wondering where you are.” She released him for the second time that evening, and giving him what she hoped was a convincing smile, began walking towards the royal wing where the nicest chambers were located. Heart somewhere in her stomach, Kit continued down the corridor, trying to understand why all she wanted to do was turn around.

"That sounds like a brilliant idea. The red in this suit will stick out like a sore thumb against the other tuxedos." A snort replaced the laugh Amadeus had been going for as he pulled out his mask from an inner pocket inside his jacket. It had red detailing to match his attire and rubies inset beneath the eyes but the focal point was the face of a wolf. At previous dances he had been mistaken for a fox, with the mask and its slender features, rather than the bulky looking masks that others in the crowds had chosen. Amadeus pulled it up to his face, tying the knot behind his head. "You should try to be spontaneous more often." He dipped his head. "See you later, although...I hope it's sooner rather than later, I need you to pick out the best piece of black current slice for me!" He teased. "I hold the queue up when I get to the pastries." He shook his head, a wicked grin on his face to hide his laughter. "Can you blame me though? Sorry Kit, my nervous chatter again. I'll let you go now, and I really do hope to see you later on." Amadeus gave her a sheepish grin this time and waved to her.

He could already see his parents making their way over to the bottom of the staircase. Amadeus inhaled deeply. "Father, Mother." He said, greeting them as politely as he could. It wasn't as if he didn't want to be here, it was more the fact he knew what was going to be asked of him yet again. It was his father who spoke first while his mother seemed to step back into the shadow of her husband. "Amadeus. Where have you been? You mother and I are absolutely disgusted at your tardiness. Come now son, you're nearly 18. You should be well aware of the need to act as though you are a member of the royal family, and not some dog from a back alley scrounging for scraps!" Arthur barked. Amadeus stood there taking the full brunt of Arthur's words. He knew part of the anger stemmed from Andrea's betrayal which Amadeus understood, but that didn't make hearing the words any easier.

"Look, I know it was hard for both of you to banish Andrea, it's why we speak as though she's now dead...I know a lot is already riding on me and I haven't been late to an event for months now but you're on my case about five minutes past my expected arrival time, I just don't find it fair."

Arthur removed his mask and cast his cast down at his son, the first time meeting his eyes since speaking to him tonight. "Life isn't fair, Amadeus, until you realise how hard it was to cast our own daughter out, I don't want to hear it. I'm not interested. Just-" Arthur raised his hand in a move to slap Amadeus across the exposed half of his face, causing him to flinch, except his mother grabbed the arm. "Arthur stop. You'll have witnesses!" She hissed, and Amadeus watched as Arthur seemed to relax a little when he came back to his sense. He felt for his mother, she was heard elsewhere, but never listened to when it came down to family affairs.

"I think Amadeus has kept ladies waiting long enough now, let him go Arthur. Remember that half of these guests wouldn't have come tonight if they didn't believe that their daughters may have the chance to share a dance with Amadeus. He is currently your selling point for securing trade deals. Let. Him. Go." She hissed, her earning being made very clear which forced Arthur to back down.

"Very well, I suppose your mother is right. Just, do some dancing. Show them some sweet gestures." Arthur waved his hand, dismissing Amadeus. He had no plans to to address his son again for tonight as he walked into the crowd, immediately finding conversation with a baron. Amadeus leaned in and hugged his mother. "Thank you." He whispered to her, and she gripped him tighter, rubbing his back. "I love you, Sam." She told him and he had to blink hard several times to prevent himself from crying. "You'd better ask a lady for a dance, there's a lot of eyes on you, no pressure." His mum teased him lightly and gave him a gentle elbow in the ribs.

With Amadeus’ comments ringing in her ears, Kit made her way down the familiar corridors, keeping to the walls where intricate tapestries hung. She had to bite her lip to keep from smiling as she pictured Amadeus knocking down partygoers to get to the pastry table - it was not an inaccurate visual, in her opinion. His constant teasing made it easy for her to forget their respective roles, for her to imagine they might be friends. But as she snuck through the castle like a thief in the night, to borrow clothes that belonged to someone else, Kit couldn’t help but be reminded how very different the two of them were.

She had never been to Andrea’s bedroom, had never used its wide balcony during her early morning escapades onto the roof. She didn’t wish to disturb the former princess’ memory or things - it fell wrong somehow, and she felt horribly guilty doing so now. However, not wishing to delay longer than necessary, Kit made her way through the antechamber into the main room. There was little remaining in the room to indicate a member of the royal family had once lived there, and she wondered what had become of her belongings. Had the princess taken them when banished? Were they locked away somewhere? Near the back of the room stood a beautiful wooden armoire, with painted panels and lilting designs. Opening it, Kit stifled a gasp of surprise. Beautiful gowns hung inside, neatly preserved and still in excellent condition. There had to be a dress for every occasion, though Kit quickly sorted through to the more formal ones.

One in particular caught her eye - a floor-length chiffon gown of the deepest azure. The sleeves were sheer and fell three-quarters of the way down; the neckline was tasteful but far more exposing than anything Kit wore in her daily life. It was expertly woven, likely from the finest silk. She changed in a hurry, folding her own plain dress and leaving it neatly in the armoire - she would return for it later. She pulled her bun out and ran her fingers aching roots, turning the flaxen curls into gentle waves that cascaded past her shoulders. There would be no time for further styling. But she caught sight of herself in a looking-glass, and didn’t quite recognize the woman staring back. The gown fit nicely - it was a little snug around her chest area, but she and Andrea must have been similar in stature and size. The woman staring back at Kit was beautiful, cheeks prettily flushed and a knowing gleam in her eyes. Before her nerves could get the better of her, Kit glanced away. She neglected to borrow any jewelry - Amadeus hadn’t given his express permission and the choices overwhelmed her. The dress also hid her plain flats - she was safe there. She did, however, select a mask. It was the likeness of a swan, the white material covering her eyes and feathering over half her forehead.

Kit was almost back to the ballroom when she passed a small armada of servants carrying trays in the same direction. Forgetting that she was most definitely not Kit the kitchen maid at the moment, she called out a greeting to one of the footman. “Hello, Tobias!” The man in question turned at the sound of his name and, seeing Kit but not recognizing her, dipped into a hasty bow whilst trying to balance his tray. A look of puzzlement dashed across his face - he couldn’t understand who this woman was, or why she knew his name. Hastily trying to cover up the mishap, Kit nodded and moved a little quicker, pulling her mask farther down her flaming cheeks. She reached the top of the staircase a heartbeat later, and the size of the crowd that awaited her below made her feel faint. She could not see Amadeus through the thick of dancers. Careful to not trip, Kit began her descent, unaware of the stares she was receiving from those gathered below.

The intro to Elbow Presley's 'Hound Dog' began to play while Amadeus made his way through the crowds. He'd made his way towards Keryn, who was one of the more pleasant girls to dance with. She didn't breath down his neck and creepily tell him how amazing she thought it would be if he asked her out at the end of the night but part of that might've been because they had known one another at a younger age. Amadeus didn't share any feelings towards her past being friends but it was always refreshing to catch up with her. As always, Keryn was dressed in a very plain, pale pink, off-the-shoulder dress. Her make-up was almost overdone but it was in place of a mask. The bold magenta and silver colours covered one half of her face which created the illusion of movement with the drawn-on swirls and feathers.

"It's been a minute!" Amadeus called out to her and she turned around to greet him with a wide smile. "I'm only here because my parents decided to use me as a bargaining tool." He laughed and she nodded. "So nothing new since the last time we spoke?" Keryn asked him, elbowing him. "If you want to make it seem like you're following their request you'd better take my hand and dance to the music." She hissed under her breath, holding out his hand for Amadeus to take. He placed his other on the outside of her shoulder for the waltz and let her lead. This had been the way for years now and Amadeus was happy with that.

"I've been sort of seeing someone." He started and watched Keryn's face light up. "Oh who is? I bet she's one lucky girl!" She told him as they twirled around. "I wouldn't say lucky, with my family's state of affairs..." He laughed and Keryn joined him. "That's rather true, well who is it?" Keryn asked. "Just shhh keep your voice down, she and I aren't <i>together</i>-together we're just friends, except...I don't know if we are? I can talk about nothing for hours on end with her down in the kitchens and it's just-" Keryn stood on his foot, almost tripping but reviving quickly. "In the kitchens? Why would you be talking to her in there? Oh...Amadeus! You like the girl that makes your pastries?!" Amadeus didn't look at her, but kept his eyes facing ahead and the silence told Keryn everything she needed to know.

"She must be very lovely to have caught your attention, I can't recall the last time you were interested in someone." Keryn told him, and Amadeus knew she was genuine. "I've got some news for you to. Do you remember Thomas? Well, he and I ended things, were still friends but...I found someone else and I don't know, I think he feels betrayed by that...Amadeus I, I've been seeing your sister." Keryn admitted, causing Amadeus to stumble and thoroughly make a mess of the routine dance this time. "You...Andrea...You and Andrea? You and Andrea?" Keryn pinched him. "Goddammit keep your voice down would ya." She snarled viciously. Amadeus apologised profusely. "I didn't think my sister was around anymore, you caught me off guard. I'm sorry, Key..." He pulled her in from her spin and hugged her tightly as the song drew to an end. Amadeus' back was to the staircase, so he hadn't seen Kit making her way down until Keryn inhaled sharply. "Who is <i>that</i>?!"

"Who is who?" Amadeus asked, turning around to see the direction she was looking in. "That would be who I'm waiting to dance with." He told her, leaning away as Keryn shrieked in excitement. "Put a sock in it Key..." He teased and she eyeballed him. "Hey hey hey, I'm not the one interested in my cook..." she threw back. "And I'm not the one interested in someone who literally attempted to burn the library archives down." He winked, leaning forward to kiss her on both cheeks. "Thank you for the dance." He told her and Keryn pulled a face. "You'd better be. You owe me! But best you go and ask for her first dance of the night, seems as though all the other bachelors here are wanting a dance too. You've got some competition Sam." She slapped his shoulder just as they were interrupted by someone asking for Keryn's hand. She waved goodbye to Amadeus who couldn't take his eyes off Kit. He was glad she'd found something to wear. He had only guessed she and his sister might've been of a similar sizing in clothes.

He made his way through the paired up couples, excusing himself and apologising to people he had to brush past as he walked towards the staircase. He couldn't believe it! Kit wasn't in her standard issue apron and clothes and she was here in person! He wondered if she felt out of place here, knowing how hard of a worker she was. Yet he could barely form a coherent word. "I uh...Um, do you, are you, no-no, would you like to dance?" She stuttered, holding out his hand to her. He figured there would be time to talk later. "You look stunning..." Amadeus said, unconsciously shifting on his feet with nerves.