- LILLIAN -

"You there! Boy! What is your name?" I interrogated the pimply prepubescent attired in Battlewood livery and a moustache that resembled leftover crumbs rather than any substantial facial hair. 

"M-me? Miss?" He stood dead still, his hands shaking as he held the tray. 

"Yes, you!" Were all men so... so very useless, and hopelessly disappointing? No, a little voice in my head whispered. Rikkard Ambrose didn't seem to have too much of either of those attributes. I hushed my inner voice and continued frightening the pitiful boy. "Take off your clothes."

"What?" His voice rose at least five octaves to become a level only audible to canines and those with very good hearing such as myself. "Miss, you can't possibly be serious--"

"I will pay you," I assured him.

"In gold?" He tilted his head at me, now looking like a calculating puppy. But Ella was the one who favoured the company of adorable creatures, not me. I, for one, thought them only a mess-producing animal that ate too much. And they couldn't even have chocolate! Surely something that did not eat solid chocolate could not be trusted. 

"In something better than gold." With a painful twist in my heart, I pulled the bar of solid chocolate out of the pocket I had sewn onto the skirt of my ballgown. "I will give you this bar of solid chocolate."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Five bars."

"Two."

"Four."

"Three."

"Three and a half."

"Fine!" I gave him three and a half bars from my precious stash, making sure to give him the smaller half.

As he went into the broom cupboard and stuck a hand out to give me his uniform, I heard him say, "I would have done it for two, you know."

I slammed the door on his hand and then snatched the clothes away.

"Ouch! Wait, what am I going to wear?" 

"I suppose you should have thought of that before you made the bargain," I replied in an "oops, silly me, what an innocent female I am" sort of voice that fooled absolutely nobody who knew me. "Don't worry, if you wait a moment you can don this lovely set of petticoats, corset, and ballgown!"

And then I went off to wedge myself into a different broom cupboard in order to change. Moments later, I was no longer Lillian Linton, staunch suffragette, but... actually, what would my male alias be? 

I was strolling down the halls when suddenly I ran into a tall, tall stranger. I looked up, and it was no longer a stranger. Who was this?

"Move," one Rikkard Ambrose, Prince of Battlewood, barked at me before nearly running over me with all the force of a herd of stampeding elephants.

I supposed I was a servant now and perhaps aristocrats and royals could get away with treating those they viewed as inferior to them in such a manner, but... I was still myself! And Lillian Linton never succumbed to such treatment! "Hey! You!"

He turned around, and I saw his jaw twitch. Perhaps few footmen addressed him in such an uncouth manner, but I was no man. "Pardon me, Mister...?"

"Mister Linton!" I puffed up my chest and tried to think of a suitable, manly name. "Mister Victor Linton, that is."

"Mister Linton," he repeated. " What in God's name makes you think you can speak to me in such an impudent manner?"

"Well, sir, mainly the fact that I possess a pair of working vocal cords and a spine," I retorted before I could stop myself. Darn, Lilly! Why couldn't you just be subservient and quiet for once in your life? 

"Hmm, do you now? Do you also possess a good memory and the ability to read, write, and do sums in your head?" Was this really happening? The shortest job interview I had ever encountered?

"Yes, sir! I mean, yes, Your Highness!" I made a gesture halfway between a salute and a bow and wound up hitting myself in the face.

"Sir will do. Very well then, Mr. Linton. You are hired as my secretary. You start at 9 am sharp on Monday. Come to the palace then." He began marching at a too-quick speed down the hallway.

"Wait, sir! Could I ask a favour of you?" A plan began to form in my mind.

"Well, you see, I have a... a sister, Lillian Linton. And, like all insensible young ladies, she came here to dance with the Prince of Battlewood. Is it possible that you could--"

"I hired you, Mr. Linton, as my secretary. It is your duty to do favours for myself, not the other way around." He looked down his aquiline nose at me, a cold glare on his face.

I suspected he was less susceptible to briberies in the currency of chocolate than the servant boy had been. So it was with great pain that I said the next words. "I... if you do so, I will work for you for the first week without pay!"

"A month."

"Two weeks."

"Three weeks."

"Two and a half."

"Two weeks and five days. Mr. Linton. That is my offer. You may take it or leave it."

Agreeing, I shook his hand. "I look forward to seeing you on Monday, sir!"