The crowd heading for the palace was so tightly packed that Markus could barely see anything, but he saw enough to be overwhelmed by the variety of dresses around him. Not only did they come in every shade of every colour (even, he saw, in black), but no two dresses were the exact same style. Some were simple, like his sister’s, while some were extremely complex and took up the same amount of space as five people would normally. He was glad now that the dress he had was not very wide. It was certainly fancier than Isabelle’s, but it was also easy to move around in.

When he reached the gates to the palace grounds, Markus saw why the crowd had been moving so slowly. For some reason, a pair of guards were insisting that everyone go in one at a time. When it was his turn, he understood the reason for this. Three men were standing just inside the gates, and the least well-dressed of the three (who was still wearing a suit far fancier than any Markus had seen previously) announced that the two men beside him were the Crown Prince and his younger brother, the Second Prince, and told him to quickly introduce himself and be on his way.

Markus curtsied politely and muttered “Martha, your highnesses, from nowhere very important”, but he barely glanced at the princes. He was too entranced by the palace gardens. It was summer, so even in mid-evening the grounds were full of vibrant colour. He was used to working for the Duke, so he thought he knew about gardens, but this was like nothing he had ever seen. The hedges were grown in intricate patterns, the trees trimmed into elaborate shapes. The flowers were arranged by colour and they seemed far lovelier than all the expensive dresses queued up outside the gates. The Duke’s crisp lawns and neat flower beds were nothing compared to this.

“Move along now,” the announcer said impatiently.

“What? Oh, right, I’m very sorry.” Markus hurried along the path and into the palace itself, pausing at the door for one last look at the gardens.

The ballroom, once he had reached it, was enormous. It had to be, of course, to fit so many people in it. It was a good thing the kingdom was so small, or extending an invitation to every maiden would have been impossible. Right now, it was seemed less than half full, but this was surely necessary so that there was space for dancing. Besides, not everyone had arrived yet. He estimated that the crowd outside had been a third of the numbers inside. Those who were here already were milling about, chatting or waiting silently or clinging to each other in states of panic. No one seemed to want to stand still.

Markus decided to look for Isabelle. He had no idea if she was here yet, and it seemed unlikely that he would find her with so many people around, but it gave him something to do while he waited for the ball to begin. He wondered if she would recognise him. Madeline had promised that no one would realise he was not a girl, but surely his sister of all people would be able to see through his disguise. He smiled, imagining her surprise at finding him here.

He had still not found her by the time a loud fanfare was played and the crowd, now as quiet as a large group of people ever gets, turned to face a raised stage at the back of the ballroom. An announcer (perhaps the same one as before, perhaps not) shouted that the king wished to speak, then a tall and rather cheerful-looking man stepped forwards and began to welcome them all.

“At this ball, my son, Crown Prince Thomas, hopes to choose his bride. I met the current Queen at a ball like this, many years ago, and this is a tradition I wish my son to carry on. He may choose any person he wishes, be she a lady or a farmer. However, for all of you, whether you dance with Thomas or not, I hope that you enjoy your evening and dance to your hearts’ content. The princes shall not be joining in the first dance, so please, find yourself a partner and let the ball begin!”