Isabelle was tired but happy. She had danced with various gentlemen, including the chef who was lending her a room, who assured her that he had been given permission to take a break so that he might enjoy a little of the ball. She had yet to see Madeline, however, and she was determined that if she was asked to dance, this time she would definitely refuse the offer. She was enjoying the ball, and she hoped that the girl was too. She wanted to make sure of this herself, and she was also curious to see how the girl had done with her dress.

She caught sight of a flash of the blue material through the chaos of people, and headed in that direction. As she drew closer, however, she was surprised to see that the wearer of the dress had light brown locks, rather than Madeline’s dark hair, and was considerably taller than the young girl. Turning away in disappointment, she was even more surprised to hear her name being called by a voice that sounded exactly like her brother’s.

Isabelle barely recognised Markus, dressed as he was, but it was undoubtedly him. He explained why he was there and what Madeline had told him, and Isabelle laughed and hugged him. The dress was certainly beautiful, and Markus looked like he belonged in that room every bit as much as the hundreds of girls there. She was extremely pleased that her brother was finally able to get his wish.

“Well, is it as good as you dreamt it would be? And have you danced with anyone yet?”

“Yes, and no. But I am happy enough to watch, and I’d also be happy to eat enough of the food that I’d never feel able to dance again!”

“You’d better dance with me, then. Like old times.”

“Ah, but won’t I be disappointing all the gentlemen clamouring to dance with you? There’s only so much Isabelle to go around, after all.”

She laughed and mock-curtseyed. “If there’s only enough of me for you, then I’m all yours. It’s much more fun dancing with you, all these noblemen like to stick to the steps too much. They don’t seem to know how to enjoy it, although they’re excellent at smiling politely.”

Thus persuaded, Markus went with Isabelle to join the next dance. He found it surprisingly easy to dance in his dress, and it was indeed nice to dance with Isabelle again. They continued with the next two dances together, then when they were too tired to keep going, they left the dancers’ circle to find something to drink.

“So, you won’t dance with me, but you’ll dance with this lovely young lady?” asked a voice from behind them.

“She’s my sister, and she was a little harder to refuse than you were,” Markus answered.

Isabelle looked rather astonished to see the man who had spoken. “Oh, you are-”

“Alexis,” he swiftly interrupted. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I had asked Martha for a dance, but she insisted that she had to talk to you instead. I don’t suppose you could convince her for me?”

“My name is Isabelle.” She curtsied, properly this time, and looked questioningly at Markus. He shrugged, so she continued. “My little sister can be quite stubborn sometimes, I’m afraid. But it would be nice for her to dance with someone other than me. It’s only a dance, ‘Martha’, there’s no need to be so shy.”

Knowing that he would be made to give in eventually, Markus reluctantly accepted, and allowed Alexis to lead him into the ring of dancers when the current piece of music finished.

“I thought you were good at dancing,” Alexis teased, after they had gone through the sequence a couple of times. “But you seem to be all backwards. Perhaps you were more comfortable dancing the man’s part, as you did earlier?”

“Well, Isabelle’s a couple of years older than me, you know, so she got taught the girl’s part and by the time I could dance, she completely refused to switch with me. All those years of practising the wrong part seem to have put me at a disadvantage.”

Alexis laughed. “Is that so? I’ve found I can dance both parts, so perhaps we should have swapped. Although I can’t quite picture you in a suit.”

“I think you’d rather suit a dress, actually. Although you might need to grow your hair a little longer.”

“I’m sure I’ve seen some girls here with shorter hair than mine, and I wouldn’t dream of saying it made them any less fit to wear a dress.”

“Ever the gentleman, aren’t you? Perhaps a dress wouldn’t suit you after all.”

Markus had stopped paying attention to the steps of the dance, and as a result tried to move in completely the wrong direction. He and Alexis both stumbled, and although the latter managed to regain his balance, Markus tripped and fell headlong onto the floor. He gratefully took Alexis’ proffered hand, but as he was standing back up he realised that his wig had slipped a little.

He thanked Alexis, mumbled an excuse, and tried to push his way through the crowd and straighten his wig, hoping that his dancing partner hadn’t noticed anything. However, he was hindered by concerned onlookers asking if he was alright or trying to tell him that he needn’t be embarrassed, and Alexis soon caught up with him.

“It’s alright, you know,” he said in a comforting tone. “I won’t mock you for falling over. And…” He dropped his voice. “Most of the girls here styled their hair, and I’m sure a few will have done the same as you. Less effort, I’m sure, and you did say a dress suits long hair better. You don’t need to be ashamed of a wig.”

“Thank you, but that’s not really… I should find Isabelle, we’ll need to leave soon… I hope you enjoy the rest of the ball.” Markus was flustered, and as he hurried away he bumped into a lady in a particularly wide-rimmed orange dress, and his wig fell off completely.

Alexis picked the wig up before Markus could, but he did not hand it back. He seemed to be about to say something, but when he looked at Markus he stopped and a look of realisation came over him. Remembering what Madeline had said about his disguise and certain that he was about to be outed, and not wanting to be thrown unceremoniously from the premises, Markus snatched the wig, jammed it roughly onto his head, and fled out of the ballroom as quickly as he could. Isabelle could still enjoy the rest of the night, and she had been planning to go home on her own anyway, so the best thing to do now was leave the palace.

However, he had barely reached the doors into the grounds when Alexis reached him and took hold of his arm. “Where are you going?” he asked, sounding concerned. “There’s still an hour to go, and there’s no need to leave yet.”

Markus tried unsuccessfully to shake off his arm, and mumbled something about not liking to be seen with his wig off.

Alexis grinned. “Well, I’ve already seen you without it, and I’m starting to rethink the suit. I think a blue one would do – the colour of your dress, say – or perhaps a green. If I can’t persuade you to dance any more, why don’t we talk for a while? There are plenty of empty rooms in the palace. Or would you prefer the gardens?”

Seeing that he wouldn’t be allowed to leave, or that at the very least he would be followed if he did so, Markus conceded defeat. “The gardens, then. I’d prefer to see them in the day, but I’m sure they’ll be nice in the dark too.”