Jo Mama had fought undead.
Bandits.
An army.
A shrinking room.
A dragon with a hunting trap on its leg.
She had crossed collapsing bridges, infiltrated fortresses, and been officially banned from a respectable tavern.
None of these things frightened her as much as the dress.
“No.”
The Paladin held it up.
“Jo.”
“No.”
“You cannot wear the tutu.”
Jo looked down at herself.
Purple.
Studded.
Reliable.
“Why?”
“Because this is a royal ball.”
“Royal tutu.”
“No.”
Jo folded her arms.
The Paladin folded hers.
Paul sat on the bed with a book.
He had been watching this argument for eleven minutes.
He had made no attempt to help.
Ellie sat beside him.
She had popcorn.
Nobody knew where she got it.
Jimmy was examining the wardrobe hinges.
Paul pointed at him without looking.
“Leave them.”
Jimmy lowered his hand.
The Paladin held up the gown again.
It was deep violet, formal, beautifully tailored, and reinforced in several places because the seamstress had correctly assessed her client.
Jo stared at it.
“Looks itchy.”
“It isn’t.”
“Looks breakable.”
“It isn’t.”
“Can’t fight.”
“You are not supposed to fight.”
Jo looked horrified.
“Then why go?”
Paul turned a page.
“Diplomacy.”
“Paul can diplomacy.”
“No.”
“Ellie?”
“No.”
“Jimmy?”
Everyone looked at Jimmy.
He was holding a decorative drawer knob.
He slowly put it back.
“No,” said Paul.
Jo sighed.
“Paladin diplomacy.”
The Paladin smiled.
“And you’re coming with me.”
Jo stared at her.
“Why?”
“Because the king invited all of us.”
“King mistake.”
Paul finally looked up.
“Almost certainly.”
The invitation had arrived three days after Greyhaven.
His Majesty King Aldric requested the presence of the Heroes of Greyhaven at the Midwinter Royal Ball.
Jo had liked the word heroes.
She had liked the gold seal.
She had liked the ribbon.
Jimmy had liked the envelope.
Then someone explained what a royal ball was.
Jo had attempted to give the invitation back.
An hour later, she emerged wearing the gown.
Everyone stopped.
Jo stopped too.
“What?”
Paul lowered his book.
Ellie smiled.
The Paladin’s face lit up.
Jimmy nodded.
“Fancy.”
Jo looked down.
The gown had been made to accommodate shoulders generally incompatible with formalwear.
Purple fabric fell around her boots.
Silver embroidery traced the sleeves.
Jo tugged at the waist.
“Still itchy.”
The Paladin smiled.
“You look beautiful.”
Jo’s face changed.
Just for a second.
Then she made a ridiculous curtsy.
“Jo princess.”
Ellie snorted.
Paul smiled.
The Paladin laughed.
Jo looked down at her feet.
“Boots stay.”
The Paladin looked.
Heavy boots beneath an elegant violet gown.
She considered.
“Yes.”
Jo brightened.
“Good dress.”
“You said it was itchy.”
“Good dress with boots.”
Apparently this solved everything.
“Nothing in this building goes in the bag.”
Jimmy looked offended.
“Didn’t say.”
“You were thinking it.”
“Can’t prove.”
Jo pointed at a chandelier.
“Big shiny.”
Jimmy nodded.
Paul stepped between them.
“No.”
The Paladin sighed.
“We have been inside for forty seconds.”
The ballroom doors opened.
Music drifted through.
Hundreds of candles reflected in polished marble.
Nobles filled the room in silk, velvet, jewels, medals and uniforms.
Jo stopped.
Paul nearly walked into her.
“What?”
“Too many fancy.”
“Yes.”
“Need fight all?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Paul paused.
“Why was that your first concern?”
Jo stepped inside.
The room noticed her.
Seven feet tall.
Half-orc.
Violet gown.
Heavy boots.
Muscular shoulders.
Greyhaven medal pinned slightly crooked.
Jo noticed the room noticing.
Her posture changed.
Only a little.
Then she grinned much too widely.
“Fancy.”
Paul looked at her.
He knew that grin.
He had seen versions of it before.
He moved closer.
“You don’t have to perform.”
Jo looked down.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She stared at him for another second.
Then her shoulders loosened.
“Okay.”
The Paladin joined them.
“Ready?”
Jo nodded.
“Fancy hero.”
“Exactly.”
They entered together.
King Aldric was not what Jo expected.
She had expected:
Crown.
Cape.
Sword.
Possibly glowing.
King Aldric had a crown.
He also had tired eyes and the expression of a man who had spent the afternoon listening to people complain about tariffs.
He greeted the party personally.
“The Heroes of Greyhaven.”
Jo looked behind herself.
Paul nudged her.
“That’s us.”
“Oh.”
The king smiled.
“I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”
Paul looked concerned.
“From whom?”
“Several sources.”
Paul became more concerned.
The king turned to Jo.
“And you must be Jo Mama.”
Jo nodded.
“Yep.”
“A pleasure.”
He extended his hand.
Jo looked at it.
Then at him.
Then hugged him.
The entire ballroom stopped.
Paul closed his eyes.
The Paladin went pale.
Ellie covered her mouth.
Jimmy looked around as if assessing escape routes.
The king’s guards took one synchronized step forward.
Jo realized something had gone wrong.
She released the king immediately.
“Sorry.”
King Aldric blinked.
Jo backed up.
“Didn’t ask.”
Silence.
Then the king laughed.
Not polite laughter.
Actual laughter.
The guards stopped.
The Paladin began breathing again.
King Aldric adjusted his coat.
“For future reference, perhaps ask first.”
Jo nodded seriously.
“Yep.”
The king smiled.
“And for the record, retroactive permission granted.”
Jo’s face lit up.
“King good hug.”
Paul opened his eyes.
“Please do not rank monarchs by hug quality.”
Jo whispered:
“King currently first.”
“There has been one.”
“Still first.”
The king heard.
He laughed again.
The Paladin rubbed her forehead.
Paul looked at her.
“You’re doing that more.”
“I wonder why.”
Dinner passed without international incident.
Mostly.
Jimmy stole nothing.
This required active supervision.
Ellie discovered three separate servants’ passages without entering any of them.
Paul had a twenty-minute conversation with the royal astronomer and briefly experienced happiness.
The Paladin spoke with two magistrates about Greyhaven.
Jo danced once.
Technically.
A duke attempted to teach her.
He said:
“One, two, three.”
Jo said:
“Why?”
He said:
“Because that is the step.”
Jo said:
“Bad step.”
Then invented her own.
The duke survived.
Later, Jo stood near the refreshments.
A servant approached with a tray of champagne.
“Your drink, my lady.”
Jo looked behind herself again.
“My lady?”
The servant smiled nervously.
“Yes.”
Jo took the glass.
Then stopped.
Paul noticed from across the room.
Jo stared at the champagne.
The servant shifted.
Jo sniffed it.
The servant went very still.
Jo looked at him.
“Smells wrong.”
He swallowed.
“No, my lady.”
Jo looked at the glass again.
Then at the other glasses on his tray.
They smelled different.
Not much.
Enough.
Jo set hers down.
“Paul.”
The servant ran.
Jo caught him.
Not violently.
Mostly.
She grabbed the back of his coat before he made three steps.
“Paul.”
Paul hurried over.
“What happened?”
“Drink wrong.”
The servant struggled.
“Let me go!”
Jo looked at Paul.
Paul looked at the champagne.
The Paladin arrived.
Ellie arrived.
Jimmy arrived because something interesting was happening.
Paul cast a simple detection spell.
His expression changed.
“Poison.”
The Paladin drew her sword.
The servant stopped struggling.
Jo looked at the glass.
“Bad fancy juice.”
“Very.”
Royal guards surrounded them.
King Aldric was moved away from the room.
The servant collapsed to his knees.
“I didn’t have a choice.”
Ellie crouched.
“Who gave it to you?”
The servant shook his head.
“He’ll kill me.”
“Who?”
The ballroom lights went out.
People screamed.
Paul cast Light.
A white glow filled the upper balcony.
Below them, nobles scattered.
The king’s guards closed around the throne.
Ellie looked across the room.
“There.”
A man in formal black was moving against the crowd.
Not away from the danger.
Toward the king.
The Paladin drew her sword.
Jo stood.
The servant remained on the floor.
“Stay.”
He nodded enthusiastically.
The man saw them.
He changed direction.
Toward the musicians’ balcony.
Paul’s eyes narrowed.
“Why is he going up?”
Ellie saw it.
“The chandelier.”
A support rope ran beside the balcony.
Directly above the king.
The man drew a knife.
Jo looked at the chandelier.
Then at Paul.
Paul looked at Jo.
“No.”
Jo pointed.
“He cuts, falls.”
“I know.”
“Need stop.”
“I KNOW.”
The knife rose.
Jo opened her arms.
Paul stared.
“Absolutely not.”
The knife touched the rope.
Paul looked at the distance.
The balcony.
The rope.
The man.
Jo.
There was no time.
“Ask.”
Jo brightened.
“Throw Paul?”
Paul took one breath.
“Yes. Now.”
Jo grabbed him.
“WAIT-”
Jo froze.
Paul adjusted his robe.
“Better grip.”
Jo shifted her hands.
Paul nodded.
“Now.”
Jo threw him.
Paul sailed across the royal ballroom.
Every noble watched.
The king watched.
The orchestra watched.
The Paladin watched with the expression of someone witnessing a prophecy she had desperately hoped to prevent.
Paul hit the musicians’ balcony.
Rolled.
Came up on one knee.
The man swung.
Paul ducked.
The knife missed the rope.
“HA!”
Then the man kicked him.
Paul slid backward.
Jo’s smile vanished.
The man raised the knife again.
Jo ran.
The Paladin saw where.
“No.”
Jo jumped onto a banquet table.
“Jo.”
Onto a marble railing.
“JO.”
Jo leaped.
She caught the chandelier.
The ballroom screamed.
The chandelier swung.
Jo swung with it.
The man stared.
Paul stared.
Jo grinned.
“HI.”
She kicked him directly into a harp.
The chandelier continued swinging.
Jo looked down.
Very far down.
“Oh.”
The support rope creaked.
Paul looked at it.
“Jo.”
“Yep?”
“Do not move.”
“Okay.”
The rope snapped.
Jo fell.
The chandelier fell.
The ballroom scattered.
The Paladin ran.
Ellie ran.
Jimmy appeared beneath the balcony carrying something.
Paul looked down.
“Jimmy, what are you-”
Jimmy threw a thick decorative curtain across two tables.
Ellie grabbed one side.
The Paladin grabbed another.
Guards joined them.
Jo hit the improvised fabric net.
The chandelier hit the floor beside her.
CRASH.
Silence.
Dust drifted through the ballroom.
Jo sat up.
Her hair was full of crystal.
Her dress was torn.
Her medal was crooked.
She looked at Jimmy.
“Good curtain.”
Jimmy nodded.
“Could need.”
Paul laughed.
He couldn’t help it.
The man survived the harp.
Unfortunately for him.
His name was Lord Daven, a minor court official from one of those sprawling lesser noble families whose branches seemed to connect half the kingdom if anyone bothered tracing them far enough.
One of those branches also happened to contain Varrick.
Daven was his cousin.
This explained the family connection.
It did not make Varrick the architect of Daven’s crimes, nor Daven the hidden mastermind behind Varrick’s.
Sometimes two unpleasant men were simply related.
Daven had been selling false military orders to neighboring factions while attempting to destabilize the crown for his own advantage.
The stolen royal seal was found hidden inside the musicians’ balcony.
The champagne contained enough nightshade to kill the king.
The servant confessed.
The king was safe.
The royal seal was recovered.
Lord Daven was arrested.
And the royal ballroom was missing one chandelier.
Jo approached the Paladin carefully.
“Mad?”
The Paladin looked around.
Broken harp.
Broken chandelier.
Broken tables.
Torn curtains.
Terrified nobles.
Paul climbing down from the balcony.
Jimmy examining a fallen crystal.
Ellie helping guards secure Lord Daven.
Then she looked at Jo.
“You saved the king.”
Jo nodded.
“And exposed a traitor.”
Jo nodded.
“And destroyed a royal chandelier.”
Jo looked at the chandelier.
“Chandelier started it.”
The Paladin closed her eyes.
“Of course.”
King Aldric approached.
Jo straightened.
“Sorry about fancy.”
The king looked at the chandelier.
Then at Jo.
Then he laughed.
“You know, my wife always hated that thing.”
Jo’s eyes widened.
“Can Jo have?”
Paul shouted from across the room:
“NO.”
Jimmy shouted:
“COULD NEED.”
The king laughed harder.
The Paladin covered her face.
Please stop connecting red string between unrelated sections of the campaign notes.
The next morning, the party prepared to leave the palace.
Jo wore her tutu again.
She had never looked happier.
Paul checked his pack.
Ellie checked the road.
The Paladin checked that Jimmy had returned everything from the ballroom.
Jimmy opened his bag.
“Medal.”
“Yours.”
“Ribbon.”
“Yours.”
“Dinner roll.”
The Paladin stared.
Jimmy slowly removed it.
“From last night?”
Jimmy nodded.
“Jimmy.”
“Emergency breakfast.”
The Paladin considered.
“Fine.”
Jimmy put it back.
Then Jo emerged carrying something wrapped in a blanket.
Paul stopped.
“No.”
Jo froze.
“What?”
“What is that?”
“Gift.”
“From whom?”
“King.”
Paul narrowed his eyes.
Jo removed the blanket.
A crystal from the destroyed chandelier glittered in her hands.
Paul looked at the palace.
King Aldric stood at an upper window.
He waved.
Jo waved back.
Paul sighed.
“Fine.”
Jo held up the crystal.
“Royal shiny.”
Jimmy leaned closer.
“Put it in the bag.”
Jo hugged it protectively.
“No. Jo shiny.”
Jimmy respected this.
“Too itchy.”
They walked down the palace steps.
The Paladin looked at Jo.
“You did well.”
Jo smiled.
“Fancy hero.”
“Yes.”
“Can wear tutu next royal ball?”
The Paladin thought about everything that had happened.
“Yes.”
Jo stopped.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Paul looked at her.
“Have you surrendered?”
The Paladin sighed.
“I’ve adapted.”
Jo threw both arms around her.
Then immediately stopped.
“Ask?”
The Paladin smiled.
“Yes.”
Jo hugged her.
Paul continued down the stairs.
Ellie followed.
Jimmy followed carrying his emergency breakfast.
Behind them, palace servants began repairing the ballroom.
Ahead of them, Jo was already telling the story of how she defeated formalwear, poison, a traitor, and one extremely aggressive chandelier.
The chandelier’s role grew significantly with every retelling.