The Ball

Carlton Jossan smiled at the waiter as he took a glass of champagne from the tray. He turned that smile towards his boss, who was looking at him expectantly. Her eyes cut towards the elegant woman approaching them in a floor length, red silk dress. 

     “Helena Sybill,” he leaned in and uttered as quickly and quietly as possible. “Sixty-three, married to Harrold Sybill. Owns a rather large number of farms that supply at least seventy percent of the wool used in textiles. Harrold heads a local children’s charity called This Little Light.”

     “Mrs. Sybill,” Ambassador Jenna Oberran greeted the stately woman. Helena was close to six feet in her two-inch heels. Compared to Jenna, who topped out at 5’6” in four-inch heels, Helena made an imposing contrast. Her silver hair was swept up and held away from her face by jeweled combs that glittered blood red in the light of the elaborate chandelier. 

     “Ambassador Oberran,” Helena held out her hand in a standard Rendarian greeting. Jenna clasped it with her own and the two women bowed their heads toward each other. 

     “Thank you so much for joining us tonight. How is your husband’s charity work going?” Jenna asked, a warm smile fixed on her face. Helena lit up at the mention of her husband and the smile on her face changed her from imposing to approachable in an instant. 

 

     Carlton stepped away to give Jenna the privacy to do her work while he made eye contact with a waiter who held a tray of hors d’oeuvres. The embassy had gone all out for the yearly Summer Solstice ball, and the local delicacy of dates stuffed with a soft cheese and wrapped in a flaky pastry were, in Carlton’s opinion, one of the best parts of the night. 

     Jenna and Carlton had spent an entire week locked in Jenna’s office figuring out the guest list, making sure to invite the who’s who of the political, social, and business worlds of Renda. Carlton had spent the subsequent week planning out the rest of the details, from catering to decorations, with various members of locally employed staff and then submitting the plans to Jenna. 

     Carlton, who had been the aid of Jenna’s predecessor, had been pleasantly surprised when Jenna had spent five minutes skimming through the plans and then signed off on them with a smile. Noting the shock on Carlton’s face, she’d laughed. 

     “You’ve planned and executed how many of these solstice balls?”

     “Um…five, Amba—Jenna,” Carlton stumbled over her words. He was still getting used to calling his boss by her first name. The last ambassador had been a stickler for propriety.

     “And all of them have gone off without any problems,” Jenna replied. The words could have been a question, but they instead were said with surety. “In fact, according to the reports I read, by the solstice last year, our embassy’s invitation was one of the most sought among the upper echelons of Rendarian society. I doubt this year will be any less impressive than the last five.”

     “But how do you know it wasn’t Ambassador Canna who did the bulk of the planning?” Carlton blurted out. 

     “Was it?” Jenna raised an eyebrow. Carlton shook his head slowly. While the previous ambassador had certainly taken all the credit for the successful events in her wires to the Thiscian Council, the bulk of the duties of planning the ball had been dumped on Carlton every year.

     “As I thought,” Jenna smiled and handed the plans back to Carlton. “I’m excited to see your vision come to life this year.” 

 

     Now, standing in the embassy’s ballroom, the walls and floors constructed of shining, white Rendarian marble which showed off the green and gold solstice decorations beautifully, Carlton could finally take a breath and admit that he’d done a good job. As stressful as it had been in years past to have Ambassador Canna peering over her shoulder and making snide comments about his event planning choices, being given the free rein to do what he thought was best had been overwhelming. It was only now, seeing his plans come to fruition in the best way, that Carlton could appreciate the trust Jenna had put in him. 

     He felt a presence at his shoulder just as he took a bit of her last hors d’oeuvres and turned. The ambassador was dressed in a floor length, sleeveless gown of green satin, the bust of which had been stitched with the golden sun of Thiscia’s coat of arms. 

     “Please tell me you grabbed a few extra of those,” she pointed to the pastry wrapped date Carlton was taking a bite of. Carlton chewed as quickly as he could, his hand rising to cover his mouth as if to hide his chewing. It was an old habit and one he’d never quite been able to kick, even though, according to Ambassador Canna, it had made him look like he was going to talk with his mouth full. Once he swallowed, he reached into the pocket of his slacks and triumphantly withdrew a snowy white cloth napkin wrapped around three of the delicious treats. The ambassador beamed.

     “This is why you’re my favorite,” she said before stuffing an entire hors d’oeuvres in her mouth. She closed her eyes as she chewed, obviously enjoying the date. Once she swallowed, she said, “I’ve been so busy all day that I barely got to eat before the ball and, well, usually that would be fine, but…”

     Carlton smiled knowingly. “Yes, it took me some time to become accustomed to the fact that Rendarians don’t include dinner as a standard part of their balls. I almost fainted towards the end of my first solstice ball here.”

     “You may need to stash some more pocket snacks for me to make sure I don’t faint,” Jenna said, finishing her last date and nodding. Carlton made eye contact with a different waiter, who began to head toward them. Unfortunately, so did a familiar blonde woman in a snowy white gown. The large skirt sparkled in the light, flashing rainbows around the room when the light hit it just right. 

     “Incoming,” Carlton leaned in just a bit. “Marcia Herstros. Her sister Arriana runs Herstros shipping and Marcia sits on the Rendarian Council. She’s a member of the Still Party.” 

She was more than a member, she was practically the driving force behind the most conservative party in the Council, but Carlton knew that Jenna knew that. It was her job to know. Marcia had had a good relationship with Ambassador Canna, but she detested Carlton. According to Carlton’s sources among the locally employed staff, the councilwoman had been annoyed when she found out that Carlton had been asked to stay on as aid to the next ambassador when Ambassador Canna left. 

     “Councilwoman,” Jenna greeted the politician as warmly as she’d greeted the businesswoman before her, but there was a stiffness to her bowed head.

     “Ambassador,” Councilwoman Herstros’ nod was stiff as well, but she was always stiff with outsiders. Her eyes, unlike most of the women the ambassador had greeted that night, cut to Carlton before he could fade into the background and step away. “Mister Jossan.” 

     The councilwoman didn’t extend her hand, and Carlton rolled his eyes inwardly. “Councilwoman Herstros,” he greeted the councilwoman with a traditional Thiscian bow from the waist. When he stood, there was distaste in the councilwoman’s eyes, but she just pursed her lips and returned her gaze to Jenna. 

     The waiter who had been on his way to them had passed when he saw they were engaged in conversation, so Carlton began to search for another to make eye contact with, but Jenna caught his eye and gave the smallest flutter of her eyelashes. It was a signal they had come up with, a request to remain close. Jenna apparently required back up for this conversation. Or maybe just a witness.

     “I hear the Thiscian Council is voting on Measure 868 during their next session,” the councilwoman eyed the ambassador, trying to gauge something. Carlton thought he knew what, but he kept his face blank.

     “I’ve heard the same thing,” Jenna replied easily. 

     “Well,” the councilwoman sniffed. Apparently she hadn’t seen what she wanted to see in Jenna’s response. “I’m sure you’ve heard, but I’ve proposed a new measure to the rest of the Rendarian Council.”

     “Of course, Councilwoman Herstros,” Jenna nodded. “I just got word today, in fact.” 

     Carlton, who had been running around making sure all the last-minute things for the ball were taken care of, had no idea what either woman was talking about. 

     “Good. I’m sure Councilwoman Thiera,” the councilwoman’s voice dripped with dislike as she said her coworker’s name, “will have a meeting with you about it soon.”

     Councilwoman Thiera was the head of the Foreign Affairs Committee for the Rendarian Council, and as such worked closely with the Thiscian ambassador. She was also a staunch member of the Forward Party, the most liberal of Rendaria’s three political parties. According to the locally employed staff the two councilwomen had butted heads on more than one occasion. But the only reason Councilwoman Thiera would have a meeting with Jenna was if the proposed measure would affect relations between Renda and Thiscia. What on earth had Councilwoman Herstros proposed?

     “I look forward to meeting with her. But if you could excuse us, I see Lady Della and I’ve been meaning to get her opinion on something,” Jenna removed herself and Carlton from the conversation masterfully. Even Councilwoman Herstros couldn’t stand up to the most popular, and rich, member of the left-over nobility. They might not rule anymore, but the old titles still held sway with the Rendarian people and Lady Della had managed to utilize that sway to start a booming beauty company.

     “Of course,” the councilwoman’s smile was as more a bearing of teeth. 

     As Jenna and Carlton crossed the room towards Lady Della, who was dressed in a daring blue tulle dress, Carlton asked Jenna what that had been about. 

     “That’s why I didn’t eat today,” Jenna murmured in response. “She’s proposed a measure that would make it so Renda would not engage in trade with any nation that supports Men’s Rights.”

     “That’s why she mentioned Measure 868,” Carlton felt his heart lurch. Measure 868 was a historic measure that would grant Thiscian men the right to hold political office. While there were a few men placed highly in the business world of Thiscia, and even a few Bishops in the religious sphere, the laws of the Council still stated that no man could hold political office. Opponents of the measure said that men were too emotional, too aggressive, too quick to anger to hold political office. Proponents of the measure argued that men had as much right as women to have a voice in the running of the country in which they lived. Besides, Councilwoman Yinna had said in an interview in the weeks after the measure was introduced, half the population is made of men. If Thiscia really wanted to call itself a modern government for the people, shouldn’t every demographic be represented?

     Carlton, who’d been heartbroken when he was seven and his dad had had to sit him down and explain that he’d never be able to join the council, had followed the progress of Measure 868 through the Council with bated breath. According to some of his friends who worked in the lower levels of the Council, it looked like the measure was going to pass, but nothing was ever sure until the votes were counted.

     “How awful,” Carlton couldn’t help but blurt out as his mind processed what Councilwoman Herstros was trying to do. Renda and Thiscia were too closely intertwined in the business world, a trade embargo would devastate their economy. And despite the fact that the Rendarian Council was unlikely to pass such a measure, the threat of it would be a weapon that opponents of Measure 868 could use to browbeat their Council representative into voting against it. 

      “What’s awful, darling?” Lady Della turned at the sound of Carlton’s voice. 

     Carlton blushed. 

     “I was just telling Carlton here about the time I accidentally gave my girlfriend’s entire family food poisoning,” Jenna stepped in before Carlton could stutter over a lie. “It wasn’t a great time. She broke up with me a week later. She claimed it wasn’t because of the “incident,” as she called it. But I’m not sure I’ve ever believed that.”

     “Oh dear,” Lady Della laughed, but it was a kind laugh. “Do you still cook much?” 

     “No, I let my wife handle the kitchen now,” Jenna smiled. “And I let Carlton pick the caterer and menu for tonight. I stay as far away from food preparation as I can these days.”

     “That’s very magnanimous of you,” Lady Della extended her hand and Jenna took it, bowing her head at the exact right angle for a member of the nobility. Once they were done greeting each other, Lady Della eyed Jenna appraisingly. “I myself enjoy baking from time to time, but I let my husband handle the day-to-day cooking.”

     “You know, I’d heard that a dinner party hosted by Lord Della will be the best food I will ever eat,” Jenna replied smoothly. 

     “We’ll have to have you over some time,” Lady Della paused for a moment. “It was lovely to meet you ambassador.”

     “And you as well, Lady Della. I look forward to meeting your husband as well.”

     “Hmmm,” was all Lady Della said before she excused herself and moved on.

     “Did you really poison your ex’s whole family?” Carlton murmured to Jenna, finally meeting the eyes of a waiter and nodding for him to bring his tray of hors d’oeuvres their way.

     “Oh yes,” Jenna sighed. “It was probably for the best. I met my wife three weeks later.” She smiled across the room at her wife. 

     The waiter reached them, and Jenna proceeded to load up on crackers covered in a mixture of seaweed and meat that was salty and savory and the other best part of the night, aside from the dates. Carlton grabbed a few of the crackers himself and thanked the waiter.

     “Do you think Herstros’s measure will affect the vote?” Carlton asked after they had both finished their crackers. 

     “That’s what I was working on all day,” Jenna confessed. “I’m going to do my best to make sure it doesn’t.”

     “Thank you,” Carlton murmured. 

     Jenna placed a hand on his arm causing Carlton to look at her. “Men like you make Thiscia better, stronger,” the ambassador said, her voice low but strong. “I plan to not let some woman trapped in the last century to ruin that for us.”

     Carlton nodded, struck by her vehemence. 

     “Now,” Jenna said more lightly after squeezing Carlton’s arm, “do you think we can find a waiter with more of those dates?”