As much as Maize would have loved to follow-through with her plans for Ress once they returned to her room, a package left on her bed stalled their sexual efforts.

Wrapped not in paper but black silk, the only note with it merely said 'For Tonight.'

Within the box was the most elaborate dress Maize had ever seen, and nothing close to what was offered within Dreduor outside of the castle's walls. And the colors...

"Those are Dreduor's colors," Ress observed, almost in awe.

The black and red of Dreduor was worn by no one but the royal family, their advisors and their closest consorts. Doing so otherwise would be viewed as a sign of sedition and send you to the depths of the same dungeons they passed through, or worse.

But the dress was beautiful.

With its heart-shaped busted corset and sleeves that fell from the shoulders, the embroidered and bejeweled black sheer that overlay the red satin gave it the look of something one could wear to both a funeral pyre and a late-night tryst. Bunched at the waist to accentuate every curse, it flowed to the floor in piles of material that looked like pools of blood.

"It's perfect," Maize whispered.

"You're not seriously going to wear it tonight, are you?" Ress gasped.

"And why not?"

"Other than the fact it could send you to prison?"

"But if I received it as a present, I could feign diplomatic ignorance."

"Or someone is setting you up to fail."

"Or someone is setting me up to succeed."

"What if Forge sent it to you? Maybe this is a test?"

"Why would he send me a dress when his list specifically instructed me to buy my own?"

"Maybe he wanted to give you a reason to waste the money he gave us."

"Or maybe it wasn't from him at all."

Ress continued his protests while Maize stripped from her dress and changed into the ner garment, even as he assisted her in lacing up the bodice in the back. Not only was the dress gorgeous, but it fit Miaze perfectly- without having been to the dress' seamstress, she didn't want to consider how the gift-giver would have so perfectly known her measurements.

"You aren't going to be able to wear a blade tonight?" Ress reminded her as he finished the final lacing.

"And why not?" She spun around to face him.

"Other than you don't have one that matches that dress-"

Maize glared at him.

"- the only ones allowed to be armed tonight are the royal guard, and most definitely not a courtier."

"What if a courtier needs to defend herself from a drunken diplomat?"

"She best find other ways to escape her situation."

She scowled but also knew he was correct in his assumptions. She also hated it when he was right.

They parted ways as Maize sat to style her hair and apply her cosmetics, departing with promises to pick up from where they were intending to leave off by the discovery of the gifted dress. She felt bad, somewhat, for Ress and the part he was forced to play in all of this. But having two different vantage points on a situation would be far more beneficial to their mission in the long run.

She examined herself in the looking glass, taking in the dress' elaborate details one final time.

That is... if someone else wasn't out to get rid of her and put an end to their plans first.

The chaos surrounding the ballroom was exponential compared to what it was earlier in the day when Maize last visited. Not a servant was to be seen within the main foyer, but instead, every door was lined with a pair of guards in Dreduor's colors, stoic and poised with their hands on their swords, more for decoration than anything but, but remaining a reminder that their presence was noted.

The doors to the castle gardens were open, inviting guests to enjoy the fresh air should they care to take a break from dancing. From where she stood, torches had been lit to light the paths between the shrubbery.

Behind her, lines of carriages and coaches awaited to be disembarked as various diplomats and higher lords arrived eager to celebrate the arrival of their long-absent prince. With the number of people who were previously seen at the castle that day, Maize considered some may have left the castle with the sole purpose of taking a coach to make an entrance. Genius, really...

She knew people were staring at her, but she also knew how to own a room. If she let on that wearing that dress wasn't her original intent, far more suspicion would be brought upon her than intended.

One who wasn't buying into her ruse was Lawson Forge.

He was standing by the main doors of the ballroom when their eyes met, and the rage that engulfed his gaze had Maize reflexively smiling. It was evident he wasn't believing her for a moment, not as he approached her and coaxed her to a less-traveled hallway.

"What do you think you're doing?" he snarled, his eyes roaming over her body and not in a way that Maize appreciated.

"I'm dressed for the ball, just like you asked."

"I asked you to buy dresses, not disrespect the crown. Do you know how much could be compromised why this outward display of mutiny?"

"Then why did you leave this in my room?"

"I would do no such thing!"

The heat in his words made her believe him. The dress wasn't from Forge. But then, if the lesser advisor hadn't gifted it to her, then who would have?

A commotion from around the corner had Forge leaning out to inspect, and he straightened his doublet as he returned his attention to her.

"The Prince is about to be announced. You need to get yourself into that ballroom before you cause any further delays."

"Wonderful, then let us go-"

"Not this way," Forge said, stepping into her path. "I need you to cause less of a distraction than you already may have." He pointed to a door further down the hallway. "There. Use the servant's entrance and stop trying to threaten your true purpose here. I assume you haven't forgotten it already."

Forge didn't give her the chance to respond before he turned on his, plastering on a fake smile and a jovial tone as he returned to welcoming the visiting diplomats.

Yet another reason Maize knew she would never be cut out for a life of politics. Pretending to like people was most definitely not in a thief's job description.

Sneaking through a castle undetected, however... that was something she could do.

Following Forge's instructions, she found the entrance in question, which turned out to be a servant's entrance from the kitchens. Unlike the visiting diplomats, the servants knew well enough not to make eye contact with her, even though she knew they were trying almost too hard to avoid looking at her and her dress.

The room itself was full to capacity with lords and ladies and everyone in-between dressed in their finest. King Silas was already mingling with his guests, his years beginning to show on his aging face, the smile he wore while speaking not reaching his eyes as it may have once. He was a knight before his father passed, and maintained the physique of one until Lusciana's death. His red tunic was tight over a gut extending beyond his black pants that even a belt and coat couldn't disguise. He was in no way an unattractive man, but he also seemed to no longer care, and who in their right mind would question the King?

The entrance opened up into the ballroom closest to the banquet tables lined with food and drink. Her stomach grumbled and her mouth watered, but even she knew it was inappropriate to begin eating before the arrival of the guest of honor.

Which, it would have seemed, was about to begin.

A hush seemed to fall over the ballroom. The hired musicians ceased playing and all eyes turned towards the main entrance of the room where the herald stood before the doors, chest puffed and nose in the air as if his true purpose was trained for this very moment. He dragged it out, too, looking around the room with a pompous glare as if waiting for the crowd to hold their breath while he spoke.

Some probably were.

The herald dramatically cleared his throat before he began.

"By the power and glory of Dreduor, with the wisdom of Silas and the grace of Lusciana, we have been given the honor to welcome home Lars, Crown Prince and Heir of Dreduor."

Applause erupted around Maize, but as the Prince stepped through the doors, her world deafened.

Dressed in a black coat over a red shirt and black pants, his dark brown hair was brushed out of his face as his attention scanned the room of his admirers looking for something...

Or someone.

Because he stopped as his gaze met hers, his smile had a sparkle that matched the silver hoop in his ear, and she realized she was staring at the same pair of blue eyes belonging to the man she met in the library.