Now it's a Party

Getting dressed had taken Marie a little bit longer than she'd anticipated, in part because Alexandra had the most readily available fancy things but was not at all Marie's size, and in part because one of the stage hands had seen her changing when the cabin door swung open and she'd had to chase him down at punch him. She'd torn the too-long hem of the yellow day dress she'd chosen in the process, but she was convinced that it wasn't noticeable - she'd tied the extra length up in the back into something that to her mind looked like a bustle. The extra fabric at the waist was held back by a bright red sash. She'd also borrowed a black boy's waistcoat from Tom, which, buttoned closed, almost hid the bunching of the dress at the chest where it was sized for someone rather better endowed than herself, and had looped a long costume necklace several times around her neck, which she thought distracted from this slight problem of fit but perhaps just served to draw attention to it.

She thought she looked quite dashing, though she'd given up on the pair of shoes she stole from one of the other acrobats halfway up to the castle, and had been unable to do anything about the dirt on her ankles from the walk. It was dark. No one would notice.

"Um. I'm sorry I'm late," she said hopefully, after the long beat of awkward whispers which met her arrival. "I... Uh..."

Marie, normally the queen of excuses, found herself somewhat at a loss amid all the grandeur. Fortunately, and to her eternal delight, the Prince swooped to her rescue, standing up. "My fault entirely," he lied gracefully, such that everyone could tell he was lying but no one would dare bring it up. "I was so eager to hear about Fraulein Mary's act that I invited her, but I must have failed to give directions, and you know the castle can be baffling to those unfamiliar with it," he addressed the king with a slight, apologetic nod. "I still get lost sometimes,' he added to Marie, smiling, then turned to the servants. "Another chair, please?"

This put everyone in the terribly undignified position of scooting to make room, which they did with only a minimum of huffing and the mutual understanding that this would never be spoken of again except in gossipy whispers or when intoxicated.

"Thank you," Marie said, blushing as she sat - next to the prince! Her stomach was so a-flutter that she thought she might not be able to eat, but then she smelled the food coming out and quickly changed her mind.

"You're welcome," he replied, and Marie was so captivated that she failed to notice pretty much everyone at the table glaring at her. "Now you owe me some exciting stories about circus life."

Dinner with a King

Madame Rosamunde resettled the woven basket of neatly folded clothes on her hip after she finished the climbing down the stairs from her sewing tower to where the Bayreuth Swan Ship was docked. She paused outside the ship when she heard a muffled thump and the sound of falling furniture.

Pausing, Rosamunde called out, “Froderick? Are you all right?”

There were more muffled thumps before a voice finally yelled, “Just a minute!” The mechanic emerged from the ship with only a brightly coloured paisley curtain edged in thick fringe wrapped around his waist to protect his modesty. “Yes?”

 “Ah, I see you are testing how comfortable all the furniture is?” The older woman asked with a knowing smile. “I know you worked particularly hard on improving the collapsible bed.”

The tips of Froderick’s ears started turning a bright shade of red and Rosamunde, taking pity on the mechanic, handed him the basket full of clothes. “Here, I just finished getting a proper outfit together for Marguerite and I also brought a new waistcoat for you, your old one is getting rather worn. Also, you might want to hurry in getting dressed, the dinner is supposed to start in an hour and you don’t want to be late.”

Froederick, balancing the basket and the strategically wrapped curtain, thanked the seamstress and went back into the ship to Marguerite. The mechanic found her lounging comfortably amid a pile of blankets and cushions on the aforementioned large, ornate and collapsible bed. Marguerite stretched contentedly and slid to her feet, greeting Froederick with a kiss and a seductive pull at the curtain wrapped around his waist.

Laughing, Froederick kissed her and occupied her hands by giving her the basket. “I’m afraid we have to be dressed for the dinner and not undressed.”

 Rita sighed picking up one of the skirts in the basket, “Very well, as you help me get into this ridiculous outfit.”

After half an hour of much cursing and struggling with laces, Marguerite was dressed in a fine black and blue taffeta dress. The underskirts were heavily pleated sapphire cloth; the top of the dress was a fitted black corset with straps with a black over-bodice striped with blue cut to look like a man’s coat with broad folded tails that fell neatly over a small bustle.

Froederick was dressed black wool dress pants tucked into practical, but neatly shined, boots. He wore a crisp white shirt and a blue and black striped waistcoat, similar to Marguerite’s dress. Overtop, he wore a fine wool dress coat lined in black satin with gold accents. Despite Rita’s dislike of fancy clothing, she had to admit that the outfit Rosamunde picked from the castle storage was better than she had imagined being forced to wear. And she discovered Froederick looked as good in fancy dress as he did out of it.

Once Marguerite and Froederick had finished fidgeting with their clothing, they walked from the hanger and back to the castle. On the way, they discussed the “safe” topics that would be appropriate at the dinner table. “So, no talking about circus daily life?” Rita asked him.

“No, at least not unless the King asks specifically about it. I think your exploits in opium dens and bars might be a bit too exotic for him unless he really wants to hear about it. Do talk about your tamer experiments though, like your miniature animals. He loves to hear about that type of new science. It intrigues him, I think, as he can’t do any of it himself. And he enjoys listening to about unusual ideas.”

They arrived first to the grand dining room where the butler showed them to chairs on the opposite side of the table from the King’s throne, much to Marguerite’s relief. She warily eyed the opulent gilt picture frames and the heavy wooden furniture upholstered in jewel bright brocades that stood around the room.

Seeing Marguerite’s discomfort, Froederick squeezed her hand underneath the table and murmured, “Don’t worry, the dinner shouldn’t last much longer than a few hours. And there will be plenty of other guests here to entertain the King.”

The carved mahogany doors swung open to reveal the next couple to arrive: Asmodeus and Alexandra who both looked elegant and comfortable in their surroundings. The fortune teller and the scientist avoided each others gaze while the gentlemen nodded to each other as the couple was led to a pair of seats down the table to the left of the King.

Colette was the last one to arrive, dressed in her fanciest tail coat in the Cirque’s signature colours of red, gold and green. She was seated directly to the left of the King’s chair and the exchanged slightly nervous looks with the other family members of the Cirque.

A staff rapped three times on the marble floor as the ornately carved and inlaid wooden doors swung open and a herald announced, “King Ludwig Otto Friedrich Wilhelm of Bavaria.”

The King, the prince and favorite courtiers all processed in and took their respective seats. From his golden throne, the Ludwig proclaimed to the table, “Ah, leaders of the Cirque de la Vapeur! I am glad you have all joined me for dinner. My chefs have prepared a delicious feast for us tonight so let us eat and enjoy each other’s company!”

Chefs dressed in spotless white coats and hats wheeled in carts laden with trays covered in silver domes. They walked around the table setting small gold rimmed plates containing delicate hors d'oeuvres and oysters shining in liquid on half shells in front of each guest. Everyone eagerly started on the first course, especially the members of the Cirque who rarely got such luxurious food.

Chatter amongst all the guests started out slow mostly due to the language barrier until each found smatterings of French, German and English in common and the conversation started in earnest. The courtiers were fascinated by the Cirque members: their exotic clothes, their various circus acts and the stories of the many other cities they had visited. And by the time the second course, consommé Olga and cream of barley, was placed in front of them the Cirque family could barely keep up in answering the questions of the courtiers.

At first the King listened as Colette told one of the Barons about how they had to fight off bandits while doing a show in the wilds of mountainous north Italy with improvised flame throwers made from spare hot air balloon parts. But as the third course of poached salmon with mousseline sauce and cucumbers was removed from the table, Ludwig rose from his seat and held his wine glass up in a toast.

“Honored guests, thank you for joining me in my beloved castle and celebrating with me and my friends. I eagerly await your performances in the upcoming weeks and I hope you enjoy your time here in my fairy castle.”

The prince rose from his small throne to the right of Ludwig and held his glass high, “Prost!”

The entire room joined him, standing, raising their glasses and echoed the toast in a loud cry that echoed off the tall ceiling, “Prost!”

As they all returned to their seats, the fourth course of filet mignons lili, sauté of chicken lyonnaise and vegetable marrow farci came and went. Eating was interspersed with more excited conversation as the courtiers continued to ask about the Cirque’s adventures until the next was wheeled in on silver carts that creaked with weighty platters of lamb with mint sauce, roast duckling, apple sauce, sirloin of beef, chateau potatoes, green pea, creamed carrots, boiled rice, parmentier and boiled new potatoes.

Seeing the multitudes of platters Alexandra turned to Asmodeus, one hand pressed to her stomach, and murmured to him, “How many courses will there be? I fear if I eat much more my corset seams will burst.”

“Don’t worry,” the magician laughed, “only five more courses to go!”

“Ugh,” Alexandra resignedly sighed, “at least it’s all delicious.”

“There are advantages to dining with royalty,” Asmodeus said, eagerly digging into the delicate slices of duck on his plate.

As the chefs wheeled the carts of empty fourth course dishes away, the large mahogany doors swung open and everyone turned to look at the small figure that was silhouetted in the doorway.

“Oh good Lord,” Alexandra groaned dropping her head into her hands, “it’s Marie. And she’s wearing my clothes.”

The Spectacle

Normally, as the evening approached, the circus would calm down - even at a new site, everyone would have made sure their own beds were accessible for the night, and would be thinking of getting dinner and turning in. But tonight, even with the big tent up and no plans for the night, the cirque was abuzz.

And Marie wasn't even involved.

Really, the whole situation was horribly infuriating.

Asmodeus had wrangled Marguerite, calmed Alexandra. Colette had calmed down enough to allow herself to be dressed appropriately, and was practicing polite things to say under her breath. Tom Sry and the boys were making jokes, planning a night of revelry to, quote, 'make the King's dinner look like cribbage with Marie's nuns,' and she had punched a few of the smaller ones for the insult. The acrobats were moping that they weren't invited to dress up as well, and, ah, entertain.

And, having had the terribly important task of delivering news of this exciting event, Marie was now entirely shut out.

And the PRINCE would be there!

Marie had pointed this out to no less than three different people, and they had all insisted that she couldn't possibly go.

So, naturally, when they started parading up to the palace - Colette leading the way, Asmodeus and a still-slightly-bristling Alexandra shortly behind, Marguerite having already run off with that scary man - Marie followed. She took even greater care than usual, doing her best to avoid Asmodeus in particular, and when they went in the front doors, she paused, counting in her head until they had to be suitably far away, before slipping in, putting on her most charming smile and trusting any observers would find her suitably circus-looking and allow her in.

The doors to the dining room were open, and Marie hovered outside, peeking around at the spectacle of it all. A giant fire roared in a fire place at the far end of the room, and while the table setting wasn't terribly large - maybe a dozen seats total, between the King's entourage and the Cirque group - the glittering outfits of courtiers who didn't get to show off very often and performers who weren't practiced at how to show off when not covered in glitter and feathers made the room seem full and sparkly. And right next to the king was the prince, looking completely charming and only a little bit bored as the meal began.

Oh, she had to get in on this. Marie scampered away, wondering how quickly she could find proper clothes.