Marguerite cleared her throat and squared her shoulders.
“My new ship is acceptable. I will need help adapting a portion for the menagerie, of course, but considering our unusual venue at the moment, there is time to accommodate for the new space.” She looked from Alexandra, who was staring blankly at her spattering of German, to Asmodeus. “What is it?” She said in German, patting down wild strands of hair. She felt uncomfortable all of a sudden, wondering at the expectant looks of her visitors, and very aware of Froderick approaching from the front of the ship.
“You are invited to attend dinner with the king this evening,” Asmodeus replied, switching to French.
“What?” She said with greater earnestness. Froderick appeared beside her, straightening his shirt.
“The king discussed such a dinner with the Cirque’s leaders,” he said. “I suggested that your company might make matters more comfortable. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course I mind. What would I do at a formal dinner?” Marguerite said.
“Wine and dine, as tends to happen at these events,” Asmodeus said.
“Absolutely not.”
“No? I suppose you could bring your animals. Not sure how the king would take to them running about the table, though…”
Marguerite frowned at Asmodeus.
“Alexandra, kindly explain to this gentleman that I will not be attending this dinner.”
“I think it would be fitting to see those creatures terrorize the royal hall. I had to put up with it for long enough.”
“You are not still upset about a few accidents,” Marguerite said.
Alexandra fumed.
“A few – you managed to ruin at least one of every kind of fabric I possessed in that tent!”
“There is enough fabric in your possession to clothe a city. I don’t see how my short stay with you could ruin all that much.”
Asmodeus and Froderick exchanged looks. Neither cared to see the result of the current conversation, nor did they care to know what happened if they intervened.
“Those were my best materials, meant to add to the experience of my divination. I must look respectable, unlike other side shows in this circus.”
“I don’t deceive my patrons into thinking the animals can tell their future. I also don’t see how you can make a living, buying all that nonsense that you do.”
“At least I have something to show. What do you have now? A magical ship and a mechanic? Will you prance about with those and your little pests at dinner tonight? You probably didn’t even have a fitting wardrobe for a king before the fire, let alone now.”
Alexandra’s words stung. Marguerite held her hands behind her back and stuck out her chin.
“Then at least I do not hide what I have – a man at my side and a vessel to carry us in. You wouldn’t admit to that much even if your dainty collection of rags were threatened with incineration, blind as you are to everything but other people’s matters and bits of cloth. If you took that silk off of your eyes you might find your own ship and tinkerer.”
Alexandra’s jaw dropped. Marguerite maintained her cold composure until her friend closed her mouth and stormed away from the ship.
“Rita, you’re shaking,” Froderick said.
Asmodeus watched as Alexandra ran out of the hangar.
“This should make dinner even more interesting… so are you going?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Be there at six. I am sure Froderick will know someone who could find you something to wear.”
Marguerite watched him run after Alexandra. Froderick placed a hand on her shoulder.
“I have problems with social formalities,” she said.
“I see.”
“That means I don’t want to go to dinner.”
“But it’s the king.”
“But I’m a scientist. And a poor excuse for a friend, it seems.”
After a pause, Froderick spoke again.
“The king has allocated me space for a lab, which you have permission to use if you go to this dinner. I am sure you could mention some of your work to the king as well.”
Marguerite managed to forget the hurtful words for the moment, thinking instead of the notes she was almost done recreating.
“I have not seen a proper lab in three years… Are you sure you want me there, knowing I tend to destroy things?”
Froderick smiled.
“I hope you don’t think this ship began as a neat little frame. I had the hangar cluttered with parts for so long I was nearly banned from working on any other projects until it was finished. No one else could find their way around the place.”
Marguerite’s composure relaxed as she laughed at the image. She turned to the mechanic and leaned against him.
“Fine, I will attend dinner. But don’t expect thrilling dinner conversation.”
“I think you would have brilliant dinner conversation.”
“I certainly would. I just don’t have any appropriate outside the company of scientists, drunkards, and opiates.”
“Let’s start with making you look appropriate.”
“That means taking off clothes.”
“I believe it does.”
“And we have a while before the need to put any more on.”
“Perhaps we should find something appropriate for you to wear, first.”
Marguerite sighed. “Oh, I suppose. To the royal seamstress, then.”
Maybe I won’t chase this one off, Marguerite thought to herself as they left the hangar.
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