:) Royai - "So much planning had gone into this."
From the moment Roy had told her she also had to attend the ball, Riza had been distracted by the new skills she would need to take on in her line of duty. She’d spent her lunch hour tracking down academy friends who had grown up in higher tiers of society, questioning them about the dangers of a ball from an inside perspective; she’d used her evenings scouting through evening wear boutiques to find a dress for the occasion that would cover her tattoo when summer fashions had erred towards showing more skin, and had even charmed the dressmaker to make the alterations so she could reach her guns, since so much as a stitch out of place was sure to be noticed at an event like this; she’d practiced three different kinds of dancing, while wearing the new high-heeled shoes that were still being broken in.
The hall was certainly huge, and the decorations impeccable, and it was true that the Fuhrer was there - but not for the supposed ball.
“It’s all yours, my dear,” Fuhrer Grumman said, with a wide grin as he gestured to a room with one table set to the side of the open ballroom.
A violinist shifted nervously among the eight-piece ensemble waiting by the empty dance floor, and one of the waiters fussing by the door to the kitchen approached with two glasses of wine on a tray.
Riza gave an accusatory glare at Roy.
That smug, conniving clown just looked right past her and said, “Thank you, sir.”
“You kids have a good time, then.”
And off went the Fuhrer in his pyjamas and dressing gown, leaving Riza dressed up to the nines with Roy Mustang and completely aware that she’d been given permission by the highest authority in the country to forget what they owed the world for tonight.