Two moons had passed since Pure Vanilla Cookie's awakening. Since he'd returned home from beast-yeast with a head hung low and a job well done. He'd been greeted gleefully by Gingerbrave and friends once he'd arrived back home—yet even now, he felt the unmistakable pull of guilt. It boiled like a waste in his stomach, weighing down on his everyday thoughts and actions, leading to shoulders held with tension and regret.

He would never forget the look on Shadow Milk's face when he'd outreached with an offer of friendship. If only for a split second, it was like he could have seen into his dear beast's mind. He wished to soothe his ailments, help him with what he was so clearly troubled with. If that meant putting up with silly theatrics and cruelties inflicted by his counterpart, he would have done so. He didn't get to, for Shadow Milk had shot him down with maniac laughter and broken arguments, then Pure Vanilla had been ushered away.

He hadn't seen the beast since, which, in theory, should have been an amazing thing. He had broken Pure Vanilla's mind, caused him weeks of mental agony and torture, used him and played him and only kept him around for his soul jam. Yet, unlike his fellow ancients, who rejoiced in the defeat of their beasts, he felt sorrow. He felt guilt, and it was getting difficult to manage, even two months later.

Nevermind all of that. Tonight was a special occasion. His robes were more formalized and bedazzled, done up nicely and dragging along behind him in an elegant manner. His conic-shaped hat had been forgotten, and his newly elongated (due to his awakening) hair, draped nicely over his shoulders and down his back. He sighed. He was supposed to be enjoying tonight. It was the annual Vanilla Kingdom ball, and he was meant to be overseeing formalities and pandering to guests, chatting and getting to know cookies, things he loved doing. Although since it was also two months exactly since he'd seen Shadow Milk, even a whisper of his piercing blue eyes, his mind was elsewhere.

This was ridiculous. When Candy Apple Cookie had come up to him with an excited bound to her step, and an expression that had promised inflicting pain onto other cookies, Shadow Milk had almost been excited. This, however, was not the plan he'd expected his servant to suggest.

Seriously, going to the infamous Royal Vanilla ball in a disguise similar enough to himself for Pure Vanilla to recognise, but not common cookies, was foolish.

Admittedly, it was also genius.

Which was why he had shifted into the form of a female cookie. His hair, instead of dark and eye-filled, was a soft, delicate shade of blue. His dough was still the same shade of blue as usual, only a bit lighter. He had darker blue eyeshadow on and his lashes were elongated. His eyes were still mismatched like they normally were, though. He couldn't change that, for some reason. He had a fancy pearl necklace around his neck, and two silver bracelets on his wrists. As for clothing, he wore a plain black dress with subtle blue undertones. There was a slit in his dress up the side where his thigh was. The dress itself was upheld with straps over the shoulders. He had a black bow in his hair, the back of which was scrunched into a polite bun.

This was only to make Pure Vanilla go insane, he told himself. He knew that his disguise was obvious, which was the entire point. Nobody would know but him.

He smirked devillishly. His minions were around here somewhere, wearing their best vanilla kingdom disguises. Even he would struggle to pick them out from the crowd.

He'd made it into the ballroom effortlessly. Pure Vanilla really needed a better security system. He never walked over to Pure Vanilla, who was chatting with some snobby cookies a fair distance away. He wanted to be spotted, not make himself known. So he waited, making himself respected, known but not questioned, amongst partygoers. He had to admit, he was buzzing with the thrill of a ruse, but didnt let it show, keeping up conversation with some rich guy cookie. Eugh.