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Dorothy returned to their table in defeat.
Ange didn't smirk, or make eye contact, and she spoke in her natural deadpan. "And here I thought seduction was your specialty."
"Step off, sherlock. We can't all be master spies." Dorothy picked up her wine glass. She examine the contents as she swirled it around. "Besides, I'm mostly self taught. I was a mechanic first, and when it turned out that knowing how to fix a car was attractive to a lot of people, I started learning the finer points of flattery."
Ange's expression didn't change, "So you're not even good at your specialty."
Dorothy raised an eyebrow. "You think you could do better, master spy?
"I am adorable," Ange said, in her usual deadpan.
"Ha! And if that were true, so what? Seduction's hard. There's no way you're good at everything."
Ange paused, for a moment. She eyed over towards the princess, for a moment.
Then the spy put her glass down. "Watch me," said Ange. And if Dorothy didn't know better, she would have thought there was a degree of smugness in her teammate's voice.
Ange approached Princess Charlotte of the Albion Kingdom, fourth in line to the throne of the nation they were in a cold war against, and also the mark on their current mission.
The princess smiled gracefully to all who approached, which included Ange. In contrast, the Princess's lady in waiting eyed Ange suspiciously.
"Um," Ange said, in her best cutesy-boop voice, "Hello!"
The princess eyed her, bottom to top. Ange noticed this, and she figured her character would be too innocent to notice. The princess's lady in waiting also noticed this, and she eyed Ange suspiciously.
"Do I know you?" asked the princess.
"I- I've seen your face," Ange said, "But we haven't met in person."
The princess smiled, forlornly. "That is so."
"I. Um. Was wondering," Ange said, "if we could be friends."
The lady in waiting was aghast. "Excuse us-" she began, before the Princess raised a hand to hush her.
"It's okay, Beato," The Princess said, to her lady in waiting. She turned back to Ange. "I'm rather a dull person. Are you sure you want to be friends with me?"
"Yes," Ange said. "Because, well, we're complete opposites."
The lady in waiting frowned. "What kind of reasoning is that-"
But the Princess chuckled, after a short delay.
The lady in waiting blinked, but kept her composure.
"Then, um," Ange said, with a carefully measured break of eye contact, a seemingly subconscious brushing of hair behind her ear, as much of a deliberate flush as she could. "Would you like to dance?"
The princess then stepped into Ange's personal space and gently took Ange's hand into her own. She was almost exactly as tall as the spy. "It'd be my pleasure."
Ange smiled. That part she didn't need to pretend.
And the Princess put her hand on Ange's waist and leaned in to whisper in her ear, "It's been to long, hasn't it, my turtledove?" And she spoke Ange's real name.
'Ange' nodded.
Dorothy manually shut her mouth, a few seconds after Ange and the Princess started their dance. She had to give props to her teammate, even though it was a little annoying that Ange seemed to be good at everything. Even though she really couldn't tell what Ange actually did to convince the Princess to dance with her. Even though she really couldn't figure out what she had done worse on with her own mark, earlier.
Well, Dorothy's mark had been married, and there was no guarantee that she had been director Morgan's type, anyway. It was a rush job due to last minute orders, and Dorothy had taken the most direct approach. Couldn't fault her for trying to play to her strengths.
You know, Ange's success was probably because, like, the Princess secretly had a thing for girls- particularly cute, clumsy girls- or something, and Ange had simply discovered that, earlier, and she saw an opportunity to show off. If that was the case, it'd just be superior research, not superior technique.
The Princess's lady in waiting approached her. "Your friend is really something," she said.
"Yeah, she's awesome," said Dorothy.
The lady in waiting introduced herself as Beatrice, and Dorothy had a lovely conversation with her until their respective friends were done dancing.
Except the princess wanted to take Ange back into a private room to do some, aha, 'catching up'.
Beatrice protested, but the Princess convinced her. Dorothy was pretty sure her eyes bugged out.
And sometime later, the master spy appeared behind the mechanic-turned-seductress, her clothes and her hair a little unkempt.
"The Princess has agreed to defect to our side," Ange said.
Dorothy choked on her own spit. "W-what?"
"She'll get the key from director Morgan and she'll act as a mole until the monarchy is toppled."
Dorothy blinked. "Really?"
"Yes."
"How'd you manage to get her to do that?"
"Well," Ange said. She smirked. "I am adorable."