Operation Marmalade was a disaster. With the provided help of the maids and considerable diligence, the limes had been cut and juiced, then shredded and cooked. Jar after jar had been filled with the green preserve and Tyaethe had gathered them all that afternoon to take to the palace for the ball. Everything had been going swimmingly ad she was certain that she would be able to get in via the back entrance and keep a watchful eye on the captain without having to remove the armour.

Then the unthinkable had happened: [I]someone had come out to collect the marmalade[/I]. Seeing as she was a paladin and not a deliveryman, there was nothing that Tyaethe could do except hand over the jars and return, defeated, to Candaeln and lock the door to her room. This was a pressing matter: with no time to come up with an alternative and the captain's specific request that she not come in her armour, she would have to actually go through the myriad wardrobes and drawers in search of clothing.

It was fair to say that the room had become something of a collection of old furniture over the years but the "why" wasn't terribly obvious. Even Tyaethe wasn't entirely sure.

The upshot of all this was that the undead knight had only just started preparing when the others were nearly finished and, consequently, she was going to be quite late. Now largely on her own with the remaining knights having been browbeaten into finding some lower-profile ball to attend, the paladin finished her preparations and set off for the ball. She [I]had[/I] to get there before anyone molested the captain...