A dance with the prince

My corset clenched my waist and so did his arm around me. Together, he and I had circled the entire ballroom floor. "You are an excellent dancer, Your Majesty," I whispered as I pressed my lips together suggestively.

"As are you," he responded. "But I am afraid that I cannot recall your name."

I laughed and laughed and laughed. "You must have had too much to drink tonight to have forgotten my name," I said it loud enough that I knew the people dancing next to us could hear. "Do not worry, Your Majesty, my love, tonight is a celebration, you may drink all that you can." I moved my arms tighter around his neck and pressed my body against his. I felt his body stiffen, and I saw his green eyes spark hungrily. I had worn my bodice a little too tightly today, and when I pressed my chest against his it left little to the imagination of the immense pleasure that I could give him. I moved my arms onto his broad chest and arms and brought my lips up to lick his neck. He moaned with pleasure. I did too. The prince was mine. I loosened my corsage top and my breasts fell out, innocent and white, like fresh snow on my chest. He growled like an animal and brought his head down to nuzzle them in my breasts, but I pulled away. He stumbled forward.

"I'm thirsty." I announced. "I'm going to get us some wine." I walked away. I felt his eyes following me, like a moth drawn to a flame. I knew that he noticed the way the dress seemed to hug my curves perfectly. My dress was much more exciting than any of his other quiet, polite suitors. To him, I was a breath of fresh air. I did not turn around until I had taken a glass of wine. I only needed one.

When I returned he grabbed me as if I was meat and he was a starving man. I fell into it and splashed some of the red wine onto the white shirt of his pressed uniform. The prince was too distracted to notice. He brought his hands urgently around my waist and bent to lift me up. I laughed and left his grasp. "Oh, Your Majesty!" I exclaimed. "I went all this way to get you a drink! Won't you please do me the pleasure of drinking it." His mannerisms became the ones of a mad man and he drunkenly grabbed the glass from my hands and drank it in one gulp. He swayed on his feet and the drugged glass of wine caused him to fall forward onto me. I laughed loudly again. "Your Majesty," a few people turned to look at us and then quickly looked away. "Perhaps we should take this to another room." I dragged him into a hidden corridor of the palace that only I knew of, humming as I dragged along his lifeless body. To prying eyes it simply looked like I was taking him away for an innocent hookup.

I chuckled lightly to myself and I pulled out the decorative sword that he wore at parties out of his waistband. I admired it, letting the light gleam off of the polished metal and the many jewels that decorated it. What a shame that such a beautiful sword went unused. I could fix that. I swung it in the air and stabbed the prince in the chest. The blood stain blended with the wine stain until there was no differentiating the two. It let out a lovely coppery scent of crushed grapes and I could not resist taking a little taste.

It was the perfect crime. All night I had dropped hints of how drunk the prince was. Whoever found him would see the red wine splashed on his shirt and assume that he had drunkenly fallen on his own sword. I left the palace at the end of the night with all of the other guests. No one looked at me twice. Yet again, the best criminal in Victorian London escaped.