Act III, Scene I, Line 57

Calorie, Bolita, and Auricularis rolled into positions befitting personages of their status; the only clues as to what their earlier positions had been were the slight ruffles in the carpet Calorie had been wrapped in.

"What is it?" Auricularis answered, as she was the one with the greatest amount of authority in the room.

"The Duke Schmancy wishes to see you, Your Highness. He would like to know where his daughter currently is," came the voice of a maid from behind the door.

"Guess that's me." Bolita straightened and brushed off her skirts. "Looking into the school sounds like a plan. I'll write you guys when I get back so we can stay in touch?"

"Alright then." Auricularis nodded, then called to the maid outside. "You may enter."

The door opened and a maid who was a carbon copy of Calorie, save for her sandy hair and gray eyes, opened the door.

"Your Highness, My Lady," the maid curtsied. "This way."

Auricularis and Bolita followed the maid out of the room, Calorie trailing dutifully behind them.

Duke Schmancy was waiting for Bolita in the waiting room, which looked very much like a waiting room ought to. He was seated in front of a very expensive looking coffee table that couldn't have been carved from anything less than mahogany and sitting on an even more expensive looking chair with elaborate gold embroidery running up and down its plush cream arms.

"My Lord," Bolita curtsied.

"Duke Schmancy," Auricularis raised her chin.

Calorie backed out of the way into the Maid Corner. The other maid was already there and shot Calorie a nasty glare for only having realized her position half a second late.

"Bolita," Duke Schmancy frowned, his usual icy stare a tad warmer than usual. Perhaps it was because she had just been recovered from a kidnapping.

Duke Schmancy beckoned her over and gave her a nod of approval hinting at her recent acquaintanceship with the princess, no mention as to her personal well-being whatsoever.

Ah. So perhaps that was what had warmed his expression. Whatever the reason, Bolita floated over to Duke Schmancy's side like the dutiful duke's daughter she was, already planning her coord for the next outing.

"I thank Her Highness for her assistance in the rescue of my incompetent daughter." Duke Schmancy bowed low. "I hope that Your Highness will continue to think well of this useless child of mine in the future."

"It is of no importance," replied Auricularis waving a hand airily, with the air of how she felt royalty might behave if they were as airheaded as she was. She was often surprised by her sudden genius. In fact, she couldn't believe that she was being so literate at the moment.

"Then we shall be taking our leave. I hope that our paths may cross sometime in the near future." Duke Schmancy bowed again, shooting a sharp glare at Bolita who was hit and received -10 damage.

"Your Highness," Bolita curtsied, and the Schmancys left the room with nary a flourish of their copious jackets.

Auricularis watched them leave then returned to her own quarters with Calorie to resume their scheming.

On the other side of the castle, the crown prince of the kingdom, Auricularis's half-brother, His Royal Highness Prince Spamlet, was taking a stroll in the castle gardens and monologuing to his mother's ghost.

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more sweaty and insect-riddled," Prince Spamlet declared, skull in hand.

The ghost of his mother scoffed, insulted.

"Kill your aunt," she said angrily, before disappearing in a perfect shinshin.

"I wonder why Mother was so upset?" Spamlet wondered aloud. He paced around the gardens, his indecisiveness preventing him from making the decision to go back to his room or stop by someplace else in hopes that he might come across the same maid who had so insolently disobeyed his direct orders a while ago.

"How interesting," he mused, just for the sake of sticking in another flag.

Spamlet decided to swing by his father's quarters to talk about politics or something, as princes are wont to do.

He put the skull back under the bushes where it belonged and began to make his way out of the cleverly constructed maze of bushes. It was the perfect location to hide a murder, or in this case, a mother.

As he made his way out of yet another dead end, avoiding all the ominous human bones strewn across the footpath, he plotted different ways to consolidate his power. Now that his half-sister had at least the IQ of a three year old, his chance to seize the throne had decreased drastically as she had always been the family favorite.

Even more unfortunately, the easiest way to consolidate power was through marriage, and he was not very interested in the droves of simpering noble ladies who were only after his title and wealth. But the maid wasn't one of them. She was different. He sighed like a love-struck maiden before he remembered his character settings and muttered another 'How interesting.'

"Spamlet!"

Spamlet turned around with a frown, wondering who dared interrupt his alone time seeing as he was so obviously occupied--

"Spamratio, my friend!"

"Spamlet, old sport!" Spamratio said again.

They hugged very platonically, holding on for an extra-platonic second longer than was necessary.

"What brings you here, my good friend?" Spamlet grinned, patting Spamratio on the back, platonically, of course.

"I come bearing news, my dear friend," Spamratio beamed back, squeezing Spamlet's arm just as platonically.

"Why, is it news that I should take joy in hearing, old chap?"

"I'm afraid not, old pal." Spamratio took out a scroll sealed with an ornate, blood red wax seal, the smile falling off his face like an unlucky hiker on a cliff.

"Ah, a royal decree, I see." Spamlet's own complexion darkened a few shades, and he took the scroll from Spamratio, peeling off the wax seal very delicately so as not to damage it. After all, if it was in mint condition he could always pretend he hadn't read it and save it for later.

"Here, let me," offered Spamratio, drawing a knife from a pocket in his trousers. Despite his nerdy looks, books evidently weren't the only thing Spamratio had studied for he sliced the seal clean off without damaging it or the decree.

"Much obliged," Spamlet nodded and unrolled the scroll, and his face darkened further with each word he read.

"What troubles you so?" Spamratio peered over his shoulder at the letter. "Ah! An engagement! To the daughter of the Schmancys no less. A good match, is it not?"

"I'm afraid 'tis not so, my friend," sighed Spamlet with a slow shake of his head.

"Pray tell, would you not divulge your secrets to me?"

"Ah! If it is my dearest friend who asks, I cannot refuse. You see, I cannot spare my affections for the lady--not that I had any in the first place, as I suspect her to be another of the gold-miners--for I have already given them to another."

"Really?"

"No. But there is an interesting maid in the castle. Also said maid works for You-know-who."

"I see. When is the engagement to be announced?"

"The engagement ball, in little more than a week."