A/N:Ok, so here it is, I've had a lot of things happening lately, so I wasn't able to upload it a little sooner, not that that's a bad thing. I had a little trouble with the plot line in this, but I've managed to fix that to some degree at least. Hope you enjoy it as much as i did making it.

The Kat A Nine Tales – Minx Lionheart

Chapter 5

Royal Annual Ball

Leona was standing by the window in her bedroom, looking out at the setting sun, it was hard to believe that in just a few hours she was going to have to dance in front of everyone, it was even harder to believe that this was her greatest fear. To escape her feelings of pending doom, she was doing what she did best, thinking of adventure and escape.

‘Miss Lionheart, your highness,’ Ambrosia had come in unannounced, and it wouldn’t have mattered if she’d knocked, or not, Leona wouldn’t have heard it, not with her mind so far up into the clouds.

‘Yes Ambrosia’ replied Leona annoyed. Why was it that everyone always interrupted her daydreaming during the best parts?

‘The Royal ball is tonight,’ said Ambrosia humming happily as she went about with the beautiful sparkling blue dress that she had picked out a week ago ‘now let’s get you into your dress, so that you will be ready for the ball.’ Ambrosia smiled at Leona’s annoyed expression.

‘I don’t like that dress,’ alleged Leona stubbornly, even though she absolutely loved it.

‘Last week you loved this dress,’ fumed Ambrosia.

‘That was then, this is now!’ shouted Leona stubbornly, simultaneously folding her arms; as usual Leona was trying desperately to weasel her way out of going to the ball, as Ambrosia knew far too well.

This was going to take a while...

***

The foyer was a rather large room, with two stairways running along on both the left and right walls; parallel to the front doors is the ballroom entrance, above is a walkway that is connected to both staircases, and has a door at both ends. There was a balcony above the doorway of the ballroom; beneath both stairways is a door.

Some of the guests were waiting patiently in the foyer, they were talking among themselves, as still more guests arrived. The double front doors would remain open until all the guests had arrived.

‘Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,’ since the guests had been too busy talking, no one had noticed a lone figure walking along the upper walkway; standing high above them on the balcony, was Ronan Lionheart. The guests fell silent, and turned their attention to the king of Glades.

‘Let the Royal Annual Ball of the kingdom of Glades begin.’ Ronan announced with his thick voice. Ronan spoke these words every year, and every year as if by magic, the doors under the balcony opened into the larger ballroom on their own accord, after he had finished speaking.

The guests began entering the “Blue Elf” ballroom. Ronan, his hand trailing along the railing, began his decent of the stairs. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he stared a conversation with a blond-headed man he knew well.

***

A black coach, with a dark blue design, was being guided by two completely black stallions. There were two men sitting up front, one driving the reins, the other keeping an eye on the wall beside them; looking ahead of them, watching for something.

‘Can you see it, Roger?’ asked the driver, having to yell to be heard over the driving wind, which was obviously caused by the speed that they were going. It was a dark night, and with no moon, it was hard to see the road. The lanterns, which were hanging on either side of the driver’s seat, and were rattling and swinging about, did not give enough light to illuminate the path ahead of them.

‘No, but it shouldn’t be long now.’ They continued on in silence, the only sounds were the clanging of the lanterns, the thundering of horse’s hoofs, and the constant whizzing of the wheels as they spun along the dirt ground.

Roger squinted, not sure if he was seeing right, the rushing wind wasn’t helping, and all he could hear was this constant whooshing in his ears.

‘Matt!’ He yelled to the driver, ‘I think that’s it!’ Roger pointed at something up ahead, Matt followed with his eyes for a moment before quickly looking back to the road.

‘It’s the main gate, we’d better slow down, or we’ll never make it!’ Matt pulled on the reins, enough to slow, but not stop. These horses were big, powerful, and hard to handle, he’d have to pull harder to get them to slow down, then he would with normal horses.

By the time they reached the huge black iron gates, Matt had managed to slow them down just enough to make the turn. The side of the coach scraped along the gate, causing an awful screeching noise; he was certain he’d heard something snap off.

‘I hope I don’t get in trouble for that,’ muttered Mark, unamused. Once through the gates, they continued along the wide open path, keeping to the left. All along the path, off the road, were cars and coaches, horses and men still with them, however many were chatting. The cars were parked on the right; coaches on the left, there were just as many cars as there were coaches.

When they neared the front of the building, they circled clockwise around the roundabout-like garden arrangement; Matt brought the horses, and the coach, to a halt by the foot of the steps that led up into the front doors.

Roger, who had been sitting on the left, jumped down from the coach, quickly straightening up his attire, he opened the coach door. Stepping graciously out from the coach was a tall slender young man; another man followed him, this man was Walter, his servant, and long time trusted friend. Walter was carrying what appeared to be a steel box, with blue patterns.

The young man looked at the box, then the side of the coach, and then to Walter, his expression unfathomable, he nodded. Without a word, he headed for the front doors. Once inside, they closed the large double doors behind them.

The roof of the foyer was of arches, with a low hanging white fabric that sparkled, it hung from most everything, from the railings to the walls edges at the bottom of the roofs arches. A green hue touched on many objects around the foyer, illuminated by the cat’s eyes.

Accompanied by his servant, the young man approached the ballroom doors, taking in the sights as he went. When he reached the double doors of the ballroom, he told the herald, who was standing next to the ballroom doors, his name.

‘Prince Leon Arvin, of Helios,’ announced the herald to the ballroom. The young man headed into the crowd, his servant trailing him, many of the quests glimpsing him as he passed, and then muttered among themselves.

The young man stopped near a man who was having a hearty conversation with another man; he was a head height taller than Leon, and had long thick brown hair that was neat and tidy. The man that he was talking with, had sandy blond hair, his beard dark like his warm brown eyes, and he had a ruggedly handsome look about his face. When they noticed Leon, they turned to him with smiles.

‘Ah Leon!’ The blond-haired man grinned, ‘it’s about time you got here!’ There was something light-hearted about his tone.

‘Well father, you know how I prefer the old horse and carriage, to the modern day car.’ There was an odd look in his green eyes, perhaps he disapproved of something, or was not on good terms with his father.

‘I can’t see why, but I’m sure you’re got your reasons,’ said Leon’s father.

‘Now, I like horses too, and although I do have a car, I still quite often travel by coach.’ Leon’s father turned to the other man.

‘Yes of course Ronan, we all love horses, and some of the old traditions, isn’t that why we still have dancing in ballrooms?’ He grinned; there was something cheeky about it.

‘Oh, come now Mark, I’ll have none of that!’ Ronan didn’t sound particularly serious, ‘no need to get smart.’ Ronan had been on good terms with Mark Arvin for the last few years, they had become somewhat good friends.

‘So is Leona here yet?’ Leon said interrupting the two men’s hearty chuckling.

‘No,’ muttered Ronan, ‘she might be a while yet, though.’

A/N: I've already started the next chapter, don't expect anythin less than a week though.