BURN

the perfect bride

"-- and so, the Sultan of Shazabah is one of the most high-profile guests you're going to have." says Beatrix, wafting around a painting of a thin, brown-skinned man glaring out at them. "He comes to these functions only to show off, so don't bother interacting with him beyond cursory greetings."

Tedros, boots propped on the table of the library, snorts.

"...right." says Agatha. "Can I ask a question?"

"Make it quick, we've still got at least forty other people to learn about."

"Why are you teaching us about this?"

"Because my mother is a Jaunt Jolie diplomat, I know a lot. Also, I volunteered, because I thought you might kill the other option. Which was Vanessa."

"Thank you for your sacrifice." says Tedros dryly.

"Why are you working here if your mother is a diplomat?" asks Agatha curiously.

"Because I had skills I could apply, same as Dot."

"Like what?"

"Hair. I do hair, she does makeup."

"...what?"

"Um, Bea--" begins Tedros, but Beatrix talks over him.

"No, Tedros, I'm not about to start a rumour that you dye your hair. Come on, Agatha, surely you've noticed all the weird stuff that people do in the name of fashion, here. You're getting off lightly with Tedros doing odd things to his eyes."

Both of them turn to stare at Tedros's blue eyeliner, and the tiny forget-me-nots stuck in the corner of his eyes. Tedros frowns.

"I thought it was tasteful."

"It's better than the woman with a flamingo painted on her face I saw yesterday." concedes Agatha.

"No one's tempted you into doing anything drastic, yet?"

Agatha glances down at the plum gown with diamond fastenings she'd been given today.

"This is drastic, for me."

"...really?" says Tedros doubtfully.

"The Empress of Putsi!" interrupts Beatrix loudly. Agatha glances half-heartedly at a portrait of a woman in a goose-feather coat. "Saw the press sketches of Agatha and loudly declared to her entire court that if she was Tedros, she'd have forced you to take the veil off ages ago."

"I don't think I want all these people at our wedding." sighs Tedros. Agatha shifts uncomfortably at the phrase our wedding.

"Isn't it proper diplomacy to invite everyone?" she says.

"Oh, of course, but it doesn't mean I can't complain." shrugs Tedros. "She'll desperately want to come, it sounds like. One of the first to see what you look like."

Agatha sees him peeking at her out of the corner of his eye and tenses. She hopes he doesn't think...

She shakes the idea off and snorts.

"You underestimate my mother. She'll probably shove it back on the second you've kissed me."

Tedros blinks.

"But weren't you going to take it off at the wedding?"

"Only because it's necessary, and no doubt I'll have to put it back on." says Agatha bad-temperedly. "If it were up to me I'd burn it at the altar."

Tedros stares at her, shocked.

"You mean Vanessa is making you wear that?"

"Wasn't it obvious?" snaps Agatha. She turns back to Beatrix, leaving Tedros stricken next to her. "Can we get on with this?"