16.0

The prince left Zyrdicia's chambers annoyed. Her near-death had shaken him, and that bothered him as much as her present isolation through the demon.

The announcement could not simply be cancelled, but he left pondering what sort of diversion he could have Vector conjure to prevent it from taking place. As the morning wore into afternoon, time was running perilously short. It was scheduled for seven o'clock, just before dinner. The afternoon gradually slipped away, with no change in Zyrdicia's comatose state. It did not help knowing that her pet demon was loose in the castle.

The guests began retiring to their quarters to don their finery and prepare for the formal event, wondering eagerly what the mysterious announcement was to be. Dirk spent the time alone in his chambers. His level of uneasiness was far too great to bear the mob in the great hall.

He sat alone in his quarters plotting an exit strategy. He had an appropriate diversion in mind. He intended to wait til the last possible moment to call Vector, using the monocle.

"Hello, Dirk."

The prince started. So preoccupied was he with his plot to derail the announcement, he had not noticed Bethel materialize behind him. Her voice caught him by surprise. That irritated him at least as much as her uninvited presence in his chamber.

"Bethel, what are you doing here?"

"Is that any way to greet your future bride?"

Dirk's scathing glare told her that she was no such thing, though he said nothing.

"Why have you convened the nobles?" she demanded suspiciously.

"That is none of your concern."

"Announce our engagement tonight or - " A sharp knock at the chamber's door interrupted her before she could finish the threat.

"Come!" Dirk called, eager to end the conversation.

Portia entered, breathless. She had run all the way from Zyrdicia's quarters. She blurted out excitedly, "Zyrdicia is awake! She's absolutely, totally fine! As far as she's concerned, it's still on, but she insists--" Portia stopped when she realized he was not alone. "--Oops."

"What's still on?" Bethel asked, eyes narrowed.

Portia looked at the prince, uncertain how much to say.

"Bethel, go!" Dirk commanded, his tone full of irritation. Of all the evenings she could have come to bother him, this one was most inopportune.

The Witch understood. She scowled angrily, "I gave you the monocle, Dirk. I can take it away too. Don't underestimate how dangerous I am to you. We have a deal."

"Had. If you try to steal my monocle, it will mean your death - or worse. You are well aware of what happened to Traquil. Bye." The prince aimed the monocle lens at the Witch. She disappeared when the green beam of light from the device struck her. Now that Zyrdicia was back, he had no further need of indulging Bethel's ambition.

"Where did she go?" Portia wondered.

"Home. Some time ago Zyrdicia showed me how to do that to get rid of Vector when he annoys me. How fortunate it works on more than just Vector. Now, what was my fiancee insisting upon?"

Portia smiled, "She's awake, and she's very much herself. She's in a good mood for a change, actually. But when we told her about the way it was planned, she didn't like it and wants to change it."

"No. There is no time for such foolishness!"

"If you tell her 'no', you know exactly how she'll react. She will either boycott the event and go home, or find a way to sabotage it and make you wish you had said 'yes.' You know her well enough to know that saying 'no' doesn't work."

"Well, what does she want?" he snapped impatiently.

"A small change only - she refuses to let you come get her to escort her in. She wants to make her own entrance. Just wait for her in the throne room, and she'll come in on her own."

"Why?"

"Honestly? Probably because just going along with whatever anyone else had planned would be too easy and she likes to be a pain in the ass. But that is just a guess," Portia grinned.

"There is less than an hour until it begins, will she be ready in time?"

"Charles is back from LA. He and Anthony live for this stuff. They're getting her dressed as we speak."

16.1

Portia returned to Zyrdicia's quarters and reported, "Dirk agreed, but he's not happy. He's afraid you're going to do something to embarrass him, I think."

"He just isn't used to the way I do entrances yet. He'll learn." Zyrdicia stood with a goblet of fruit juice in one hand, and the other hand on Anthony's head as he bent to reach around her, lacing her up.

"If you spill that, I will kill you. You know that, right?" Anthony snarled. She ignored him. He was always testy when he was under pressure. She drained the goblet and motioned for Portia to refill it, since she was immobilized by Anthony. Charles stood on a chair behind her and buzzed around her head, pulling, and twisting locks of hair with quick precision. As a pair, he and Anthony worked incredibly fast when the situation required. Prior lives in runway work, theater and concert costume changes made this easy. To them, an hour was generous.

Portia handed Zyrdicia the juice and watched her drain it again. She did not question it. After four days trapped in the astral plane, rehydration and calories were a good thing.

When Zyrdicia was finally ready, there was hardly a minute to spare. "How punctual are they for such events?" she wondered, in no particular hurry.

"Girlfriend, people around here get pissed at the clocks when they lose time! You don't even have to ask," Anthony muttered, looking her up and down for the slightest sign of a flaw. His trained eye was critical and fussy, but she was perfect.

"Go check and see if everybody is there. I have to be the last person to walk in," she insisted, yawning.

"It's seven, baby, you will be. They started filing in there twenty minutes ago. It's late enough."

"Go check!"

Anthony rolled his eyes then darted out. He came running back moments later. "They're all there looking around, waiting for something to happen. Princey looks like a statue. If you don't show up quick, you are going to give that poor man a heart attack."

Zyrdicia smiled mischievously, "Assuming he has one to attack."