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If
there’s any help I can offer, it’s only a lesson in timing.”
    The message was fairly
clear to Aspen, she had to time whatever she did just right, wait for
the right opportunity and make sure she didn’t miss it. She decided
that she could help hide the tip by asking a clever question. “Am I
part of any performances tonight? Is there anything I shouldn’t
miss? I’d hate to make things worse by disappointing the Countess
even more.”
    “You are an ornament
this evening, the Countess is only interested in showing the court
that you have returned, but she doesn’t want anyone to see that
you’ve changed. You know, I think you look healthier than the one
who was dieted and primped to specification, but what do I know? I’ve
only been designing and costuming for thirty years. I would say stand
still, pay attention, and try not to fall asleep on your feet.”
    “So, all I’m
getting is this robe, and I’ll be standing there all night,”
Aspen said. “Dais deco mode.”
    “As far as I know,”
Tinick said, tugging the hood up and fixing it into place. “Our
time is finished for today, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. I’m
supposed to make you look unrealistically skinny using nothing but my
wits and clothing, so that’s something you can look forward to.”
The silver furred creature rolled her eyes and shook her head.
    Aspen left the room,
looking forward to seeing the new designer again, but not looking
forward to whatever measures it might take to create the illusion
that she hadn’t gained weight since she escaped. It irked her that
she would be forced to lose centimetres, she felt healthy, and no one
ever complained about her appearance when she was free.
    The ball was already
under way, and palace guards met Aspen as soon as she emerged from
the wardrobe room with her cloak closed all the way down. There was
nothing but dye underneath, and Aspen wasn’t interested in putting
a show on before she had to. Her stomach grumbled. There had been
plenty to drink, some of it thick and sweet, not much of it
identified, but it seemed that within minutes of her mouth leaving a
straw, hunger began creeping back.
    Following the guards to
the side entrance of the ball room, she asked them; “neither of you
would have anything to eat on you, would you? I’ll flash a little
leg for half a meal bar, c’mon.”
    The guard on the left
chuckled, the other shook his head.
    “I’ll open right up
for a hot Power Pocket,” she added, opening the top of her robe a
few centimetres.
    The one who shook his
head slipped her a meal bar and said; “No flashing required. You
didn’t get that from me, right?”
    “You are my saviour,
and its bad luck to rat on someone who saves your butt,” Aspen said
as she hid it in the neck of her robe and took a big bite. They were
in the narrow side entrance to the ball room, waiting for a red light
to go on above their heads. “You get double points for chocolate,
oh my God, thank you.” She said through a full mouth.
    “Hurry up and scarf
that down,” the other guard said, chuckling.
    The bar was gone too
soon, but she was happy to have had solid food without getting
caught. “Thanks again, um, which one are you?”
    “No names,” he
replied. “That way I won’t get fired or killed over a meal bar.”
    “Good point.”
    The light above her
head turned red and the doors opened silently, cool mist rolling in
front of it. The lights in the ball room were dimmed, and Aspen could
see the stars through the tall windows at the other end of the hall.
    There was a clear lane
between hundreds of gathered guests leading to the middle of the
massive vaulted room. Dead leaves lined the aisles with faint green
light between. Aspen saw that Larken was already approaching from the
other side of the hall, horns protruding from his head, brown dye and
paints applied so he looked like he belonged in some ancient
woodland. He was more muscular than she remembered, and Aspen hoped
that the