OK.  I screwed up.  I wrote “Charity’s Ball” from the omniscient POV, then noticed that the prompt specified 1st person POV and I rewrote it.  Then I realized that the Red Dress Club prompt said “From the POV of the person (who IS annoying).  So… here.  I rewrote it again.

Roger Dodger at Charity’s Ball

by AmyBeth Inverness


I am loved.  I am loved.  I am loved.  I was loved…

Damn.  I hate when that happens.

I am loved.  I am loved…

I think I’ll have to settle for “I am appreciated for the opportunities my family’s wealth and prestige have given my spouses.”  As for the “was” part, well… she’s here.  And she’s married.  A Duchess, no less.

Frak.  She just spotted me.  But that look was not one of “Oh, how nice!  An old friend has travelled halfway across the Kingdom just to see me!”  That look was “What the hell is he doing here?”


There are breasts at the bar.  Excuse me a moment…

Well, that was brief.  The breasts did not appreciate being appreciated.  I wonder where Charity is, she has nice breasts…

…and a rather intimidating husband.  “Your Highness!” I stammer, noticing just who it is who happens to be standing behind me.  But I’m in luck, it is the Grey Duke.  Financial.  Exactly the kind of person to hear my ideas.   Here it goes…

“What did you say your name was?” he asks me.  Frak.  Does he know who I am?  Not that I’m anybody, but… I was somebody to his wife, once.  I tell him my name.

“Daniels… I knew a family by the name of Daniels back in Fallcastle.  Any relation?” he asks.

The Grey Duke is from Fallcastle?  Frak again.  I confirm the connection.

“Really?”  He answers.  And he knows.  Firstly, he knows that his wife and I have a history, and it didn’t end well.  Secondly, he knows that I’m not a constituent in this Duchy.  He’s probably wondering why I’m babbling on about my financial theories here, instead of in Fallcastle.  “You’re quite far from home.”  He continues, confirming my odd presence.  Can I convince him I’m here for legitimate reasons?  I can’t think of any legitimate reasons… I’m frakked.

Charity has broken away from the politicians, and she’s scanning the dance floor, her back to us.

Please don’t turn around… please don’t turn around…

I’m saved by the Grey Duke himself.  Just when I think my face is about to be on the receiving end of a well deserved punch, he smiles the smile of a fortunate man, excuses himself, and joins his wife.

A few minutes later, there is an audible sigh of appreciation from the crowd.  I know it’s all about Charity even before I glance back to see her in her husband’s arms.

At least she’s happy.

Well, if I can’t advance my political agenda, I might as well feed my libido.  There are quite a few breasts here yearning for my attention.