It was a cool November evening in London, and the weather had been dreary. And as always when there was a rare warm day, people spent any time they could in the sun. The upper class were no exception, and it seemed, nefarious plotters did not either. A new hermetic order had cast its lot as ‘anti-royalist’ (though we all knew who they were) and when the Queen’s secret service came knocking at Henry’s shop, it was time for the Assassins to bring the blades to the ball.

I roved the room, finding myself placed prominently at the Queen’s side, finding all these rich types a little less to be desired. How they could mill about laughing and standing around cakes and fine silver, while all day I had sat in the mud which smelled as it always did, of an earthy cocktail of cat piss and grass, with the Rooks. It was not something I resented about them, but the sudden shift in climate was unsettling. Jacob was as usual, unfazed, and I caught him downing several tarts before he purposely gave me a crumby grin. Across the room, I knew Evie had seen it too, but only to someone who knew her, could you tell she was annoyed. She was impeccably dressed in a blue gown this time, chatting idly with some rich fellow who clearly had an angry wife at home. Henry stood by the Maharajah’s side, the esteemed guest and friend of Her Majesty. It brought a smile to my lips, seeing Henry there, though no one knew he was Mr Singh’s kin, while he posed under the guise of a bodyguard from home, I saw family.

My vision shimmered, and I spotted a blur of red, moving towards the White room, and I moved to saunter towards it, before my wrist was caught by a warm grasp. I turned to see Jacob, no traces of his tasty thievery on him at all. And I explained our situation. I made eye contact with the Queen who, as sharp as ever, nodded, before we disappeared into the crowd. We scanned the room, and Jacob broke off to flank the target, I headed in a tangent to the ratty looking man, both of us moving in unison, and soon I could see the whites of his eyes. His cruel scowl met my determined eyes before they flashed into a gasp of shock and a burst of blood burst through his coat front. Jacob caught the body before it could collapse and I helped him hide it behind a haystack near the trees.

I sighed, hands on my hips, forgetting for a moment that I was in a puffy dress and it was unladylike. But before I could catch myself, Jacob pulled me into a curtained booth. I opened my mouth but Jacob’s finger tapped my lips.

“Shh… I think I see another one…” Jacob hissed. I stiffened, and flattened myself against him, forgetting that I was, again in a dress, and that we were in a small dark booth. I listened intently, and turned to see him watching me. Our eyes met and a current of something I knew too well surged between us. How his hands got under that ridiculous skirt and unlaced the crinoline, where it dropped to the floor, allowing me room to press myself against him more firmly.

What A Ball

By clehjett

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