Coal Part 5: 1st Draft

Enough with the crying and hugs. It's time Ciara put her plan into motion!

The ride to the party was relatively short. Ciara's father was well off(even with the reputation his wife had), so it was only half an hour away from The Royal Family. Ciara enjoyed the trip all the same. She had seldom been driven anywhere, and never in a fancy carriage. The landscaped roadside was shining brightly with old-fashioned yellow paper lanterns, in celebration of the prince's birthday. And for once, Ciara felt just as bright.

For once, everything is working out! thought Ciara. I'm going to a ball, not just as a marquis's half-forgotten daughter, but as a princess! Her feathers glowed brightly with her happy thoughts.

Suddenly, the carriage stopped. Ciara leaned out of the carriage window to see what was going on.

They were at the palace ballroom entrance. White and gold streamers were everywhere outside of an elaborately carved cherry door. Outside the door was a royal guard, carefully checking invitations. Ciara caught a glimpse of Debra and the twins getting in, much to the chagrin of the guard.

What little happiness Ciara had gathered in the last half hour instantly vaporized. "Dammit!" she exclaimed, as Zene was opening her door and helping her out of the carriage. "They're going to get him!" The thought of such a nice guy falling victim to the Vicks infuriated her again. As if the Marta had some psychic link with her, her dress lit up, making her look like she was on fire. The long line of guests waiting to get in took notice.

"She must be a princess to have such a beautiful dress!" exclaimed the guard, nervous about letting someone so beautiful waiting for her turn. "I have to let her in ahead of these common nobles!" He waded through the line and bowed to Ciara personally. "A Great Lady such as yourself does not have to wait in any line. Should I have the captain escort you in?"

Ciara's heart began to beat very fast, but she kept the composure of her station. "Really. All that is not necesary. But I am on the list as 'Motumba'." She talked in a very low, slightly husky, tone.

The guard barely glanced at the list. "Motumba? Yes! Of course! Right this way." Zene bowed to Ciara and went to park the carriage. The horses made odd sounds, almost like two little chihuahuas. Ciara fought the urge to laugh. The guard took Ciara's arm and led her inside himself. They walked into the foyer, where several guests were chatting and drinking. Of course, all conversation stopped when Ciara walked in, but Ciara continued on, ignoring them all. "Do you have a formal title so I may properly introduce you, Great Lady?"

Ciara chuckled lightly. "This is a masquerade ball for a reason. I came to enjoy myself, not to advertise my rank." Ciara told him.

"Of course, Great Lady." They were now at a heavy white curtain, separating the foyer from the ballroom. Ciara felt apprehension all of a sudden. What if someone recognized her, with all the attention she was getting? She had already met the prince, and if he looked hard enough, he would recognize her as the shabby servant girl from the mall. She'd never be able to hold his attention then. She didn't have time to think about that, for the guard was announcing her. "ANNOUNCING THE ARRIVAL OF THE GREAT LADY MOTUMBA!" Ciara had an urge to cover her ears. She knew he wasn't supposed to say it that loud! But he was probably trying to show her the proper respect, so she let it go.

As the guard drew back the curtain, the party was revealed. At the bottom of a grand staircase, there was a live band, several tables overflowing with food, and everyone looked their best, despite looking like various mythical creatures and characters. It was a ball to end all balls. At least, it would have been, if everyone hadn't been staring at Ciara.

"Oh no!" she thought. "Everyone must know who I am!" She tightened her fists, but didn't turn and run. "I have to protect the prince from the Vicks. I don't care if he knows who I am or not." Not breaking her illusion of confidence, Ciara descended the staircase, clearly hearing her her glass shoes clink against the marble steps. The party goers started to form a crowd at the bottom of the stairs, and Ciara wondered if they would eject her from the ball.

Nothing could be further from the truth. Everyone was clamoring to ask her where she had gotten her dress, who she was, what country she was from. Ironically, Debra Vicks was at the forefront of everyone.

"What a gorgeous dress! You must have paid for a fortune, but to nobles like us, that's pocket change!" cooed Debra.

"Yeah! Your dress is really incredible!" Ashton chimed in.

"You've got to tell us where you got it from!" added Ashford.

Ciara knew what they were trying to do. since she was the best dressed at the ball, they would try to latch on to her to make themselves look better, thereby getting closer to the prince. Ciara wasn't having it. She played it cool, wading through everyone. "Really? Thank you." she said quietly, answering everyone's questions the same way. She scanned the crowd, looking for the prince, but she didn't see anyone guy that stood out. She eventually made her way to the food tables, where a few unpopular nobles were standing nervously, waiting for someone to ask them to dance. A few handsome young men followed her around, asking her for a dance.

Ciara saw through their costumes, and recognized several as the classmates who had helped the twins with their "anatomy homework". Ugh! VD alert! She thought. Outwardly, she gracefully declined, delicately nibbling an hors d' ourve, keeping an eye on the ballroom floor and the grand staircase. Stray conversation from those around her confirmed her assumption that the prince had yet to arrive.

"Well, I can't let people know I'm waiting for him. " she thought, finishing off the cracker. She approached a somewhat shy looking cowboy, side stepping an aggressive alligator she had refused twice already. "Would you like to dance?" she asked in her low husky tone.

The young man got red in the face, and adjusted the bandana around his neck. "This has got to be some kind of a joke. Why would you want to dance with me?"

"I want to have some fun. You look like fun." Actually, he looked about as fun as getting kicked in the shins, but she needed a distraction.

They took to the floor, and everyone made room. Thanks to her feathered dress, Ciara felt quite light and moved gracefully. The cowboy had obvious trouble keeping up, but he wasn't about to let the most stunning girl in the room go on to someone else. Ciara giggled and pretended to have a great time, all the time scanning the room over the cowboy's shoulder. Several times, various men tapped the cowboy to cut in, but Ciara always spun him away before he could release her hand.

An hour later, the moment she had been waiting for came. The Royal Family was announced and came down the grand staircase. Prince Dominick looked the part of the black sheep of the family, dressed as the Big Bad Wolf, while everyone else was dressed in tasteful peasant costumes. The queen looked as if she wanted to grab Dom's cigarette out of his hand and stamp it out, but she restrained herself. It was, after all, his party. Everyone swarmed over to him in the same way they had done to Ciara. Some women, specifically the Vicks, fainted convienently, and had to be revived. The prince ignored everyone and made his way over to the drink table, putting out his cig in a daquiri.

"We should wish Prince Dominick a happy birthday." said the cowboy, as he dipped Ciara.

"When the time is right." said Ciara, on her way up. She didn't want to be too obvious like the Vicks, who were gradually stalking their way over to the food tables like a pack of wolves. Fortunately, the prince didn't want to be bothered. He had his bodyguards keep everyone well away from him, and started to drink. Ciara realized she had to act fast. She didn't want him drunk enough to bang anyone in the room. "I'll get us some drinks." She eventually told her dancing partner.

"What? No! I'll get them." he protested, but she was already walking away. She went directly to the prince, who had his wolf head lifted up so he could drink every strawberry daquiri in sight. A bodyguard promptly blocked her path.

"Excuse me, Lady, but the prince is not ready to greet everyone yet. Keep your distance." he told her from behind his dark glasses and folded arms.

Ciara rolled her eyes, then she put her plan into motion. "He's eating all the daquiris. Tell him to move to another table."

The bodyguard took of his glasses, a look of shock on his face. It was pretty obvious no one had ever talked that way about the prince to him before. "Are you crazy?"

"No. I'm thirsty. Now are you going to tell him, or should I?"

The prince peeped out from behind his bodyguards. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Just someone who wants a drink. You know you shouldn't be hogging them all. I heard the daquiri machine is down."

The prince began to sputter. "Y-y-you can't talk to me like that?"

"Like what? A person who's being an asshole?" Ciara fired back. The whole room got silent as if on cue. The band stopped playing, the guard paused in the middle of announcing a baroness, and The Royal Family looked as if war had been declared. "Well?" she asked, tapping her feet impatiently. "Are you going to move or what?"

Suddenly the prince burst into laughter. He laughed so long and so hard it sounded like he was going to choke. He reached into his pocket for his inhaler, and breathed in two puffs. He patted his bodyguards on the back. "Great joke you guys."

"Your Majesty?" said one sheepishly. "We've never seen her before."

The prince stopped laughing and turned a bright shade of red. "You bitch!" he yelled.

Ciara didn't stop. Everything was going according to plan. "I've been called a hell of a lot worse." she said folding her arms.

"I'm gonna have you locked up!" he shrieked, looking at everyone to jump in. Everyone was looking at each other, not sure what to do.

Ciara dropped the bomb. "And cause a war? I think not."

Prince Dominick backed away. "You aren't from this country, are you? Who are you? What do you want with me?"

Ciara shrugged. "I just came to have a good time. I heard there was a party here, so I crashed it."

"IT'S MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY PARTY! YOU CAN'T JUST WALK IN HERE!!!!" he screamed at her.

Ciara put her hands on her chest in mock shock. "And I'm the bitch?" she reached around a bodyguard and got a cherry daquiri. "Later, Dom." she started walking away. Did it work? she asked herself. I've got about 5 seconds to find out. 1,2,3,4...

"Wait!" the prince walked around his guards to her. "Stay. You can have all the daquiris you want."

Now to reel him in! "I only wanted one." Ciara drank it down, then handed him the empty glass. "Now I'm leaving."

"But I want my birthday dance." he said, taking her hand.

Yes! "You just said the magic word."

"Tell the band to play something slow." said Dom, barely looking at his guard. "I don't want her to get away." The guard looked like he had just been ordered to shoot himself in the head, but he followed his orders. Ciara allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. Her feathers seemed to glow as brightly as ever, as the band struck up a popular song. 'Sweetheart' by Carey something-or-other. "So do you just go around crashing random parties, no matter how rich and powerful they are?"

"No. Actually, I came to this party to get your attention." said Ciara honestly.

"Well, you have it." Dom answered, dipping her suddenly.

"I just wanted to give you a heads up on some of the women at your party, namely 'twinkie' and her 'twinkies-in-training'."

"You've heard of them?"

Ciara grinned mysteriously, and swung him around. "They're the only bitches who had the balls to come dressed as a queen and two princesses."

Dom moved in close to her. "Holy shit!" he whispered. "I was checking them out, too." He started manuvering Ciara away from the Vicks point-of-view. "Thanks. I don't want to marry anyone like that."

"Is it true you have to get married because you knocked up a servant?" Ciara asked.

"What?!No!" he moved even closer to her, pressing his heavy wolf pelt against her feathers. "Where'd you hear that?"

"A messenger."

"Who was handing out the invitations?" Ciara nodded in agreement. "Motherfucker! No wonder there are so many girls here!" The girls did indeed outnumber the the guys 3 to 1.

"Glad I'm not you."

"Thanks so much." He looked at her strangely. "You have a high rank. No one's pressuring you to get married?"

Ciara shrugged. "My mom's dead, and my dad stopped giving a damn a long time ago."

The prince whistled. "Damn."

"I know." She felt unexpected tears start to well up. "Listen...since you know what's up, I don't have a reason to stay anymore." She stepped out his embrace.

"Hey! You aren't gonna cry, are you?" he reached out to touch her face, just as the downpour started. Ciara's dress lit up blindingly at his touch. Everyone had to cover their eyes. Ciara took advantage and ran away.

"Don't go!" called the prince, when she hit the staircase. He started running after her himself. Too lose him, Ciara took off her glass shoes and ran as fast as she could to her waiting carriage.

"Take me back home as fast as you can!" she told her aunt, still in the guise of a coachman. She jumped into the carriage head first, and it took off. The prince tried to keep up, but Zene qiuckly lost him.

Woo! That was a lot of writing! Part 6 is here!"Coal Part 6: 1st Draft"