“Oh, Tiffany my love, don’t you look beautiful!” the queen shouted across the hall.

“I don’t know, mother. It’s all a little… much,” Tiffany mumbled. She turned a pirouette, hoping she would feel more comfortable, but the crinoline under this dress was even bigger than the one before.

“Oh, sweetheart, no. It’s the latest fashion. I’m sure the other aristocrats will love it.”

“The other aristocrats. Right.”

“Oh, my darling dear,” the queen sighed. She placed her hands on Tiffany’s shoulder. “I understand that you don’t love the dress, but it’s just one night per year.”

“I wasn’t aware the night started at four in the afternoon nowadays,” the princess grumbled. The queen pretended not to hear it.

“The first guests will arrive soon. You go find that bodyguard of yours.”

“Of course, mother,” Tiffany said. She felt better instantaneously, made a quick curtsey and ran off immediately.

*

“Noah, look at you!” Tiffany called when she found Noah in the hallways of the castle. “You look amazing!”

Noah blushed and scratched behind her ear. “You think so?” she asked nervously.

“Absolutely,” the princess said as she brushed a stray lock of hair behind Noah’s ear.

“I have to say, this is very different from my poop shoveling garb,” she chuckled, feeling a little more at home in the outfit.

“‘Poop shoveling garb’?” Tiffany tried not to laugh.

“I mostly took care of Sir Lance’s horse before he left, and, you know, horses produce a whole lot of poop in one night.”

“No, never mind, I don’t have to hear any more of this!”

“If you say so,” Noah snickered. “If I’m completely honest, I think you looked better before Ella and the maids got a hold of you. A complete waste of both effort and the view, if you ask me.”

Something of a grin took over the princess’ face. “You know, nobody would ever have told me that to my face. And since the punishment must fit the crime, you’ll have to dance with me tonight.” she told the squire sternly, even if Noah clearly heard from her tone that she didn’t mean a word of it.

“I’m afraid that’s not what ‘punishment’ means,” Noah bluffed.

“I’m afraid you don’t know what it’s like to dance on a floor full of aristocrats.”

Noah held up her hands. She knew she’d lost.

Tiffany, with her eternally radiant smile, linked her arm in Noah’s and walked her to the ballroom.

“Aren’t you supposed to do this with the prince, you know, getting all cozy and stuff?” Noah asked out of nowhere. “Won’t he be offended?”

“The prince’s ego could use a dent, don’t you think?” Tiffany squeezed Noah’s arm a little tighter and leaned a little closer against her. “Besides, I like you much better.”

“Tiffany?” Noah turned to the princess.

“I like you, Noah. Like like. Better than Eugene or any boy ever. I know I’ll have to let go of you soon, but promise me to stay close? Then we can still make it our night.”

Noah smiled. “I promise, your highness.”