Our everyday lives depend on stable leaders, who will be able to distinguish what is best for us. Monarchies are sexist and power-hungry, and the kingdoms are a place where the future queens and kings must fear not having a choice or goals of their own. The only people who know what happens inside the castle walls are the royals themselves. They want to tell their story, but who will listen?
The main concern of those who will one day rule is how little choice they have over every aspect of their lives. Friendships have to be only with people who can be of use for the success of their country. Which is why arranged marriages were licensed as ‘peace treaties’, as a token of unbreakable alliances between powerful countries.
This is a closed group RP and it may contain adult related themes and contents. Lurkers take caution. 18+
They are looking at Princess Sophia, not her... Cordelia told herself and kept telling herself as she and Princess Sophia walked into the ballroom with no less than every pair of eyes on them. Her hands grew clammy and she found herself rubbing them once again along the skirts of her dress, it suddenly feeling very heavy on her lithe frame. How did she do it? Cordelia wondered about her best friend. The stares, the gawking, the attention. Anytime the King or Queen of Fredonia merely acknowledged her Cordelia felt like she was going to faint. Now, as they roved through the ball she was grabbing stares from every royal, every nobleman. Dozens of eyes gazing at her, or more so her and the beauty in red at her side, leading her through all of this.
God, they were going to eat her alive.
Sophie was cut out for this -- the mingling, the flirting. Cordelia definitely wasn’t. And, even though she tried to keep her princess’s words rolling through her mind, “Lady Cordelia, of House Valentine, a distant cousin to the princess,” Cordelia felt anything but relieved. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, the prominent blush that was raging underneath her jeweled mask. Even with Sophie offering her a glass of wine, the redness in her face didn’t falter.
Breathe, dammit, breathe.
She tried, but the corset constricted most of her attempts.
Doing what she did best, Cordelia tried to slowly sink behind the princess, being sure to keep her shoulders back, her jaw relaxed, just like the other women roaming past. When Sophia handed her a glass of wine, Cordelia practically whimpered at the sight. She had only drank a handful of times, mostly when Sophie had convinced her enough to sneak glasses within the safety of her bedroom as they played dress up and talked about her future husband through giggles. While she wasn’t entirely a fan of drinking, she hated not being in control of herself or her mind, Cordelia took the glass gingerly, staring at its contents for a moment.
“Princess Sophie, I really shouldn’t--” Cordelia had started, only to be cut off by one of Sophia’s knowing glances and a toast. The clink of their glasses rang through her ears and Cordelia sighed once before bringing her glass to her lips, taking a small sip of the wine. The sweet aroma, as well as the sharp taste, sent a wave of surprise through her. Oh, it was good.
Cordelia took another sip.
She was savoring the drink so much that she had not noticed the quickening tempo of the music or the bustling of the other royals around her. Only the princess’s hand interlacing within her own pulled Cordelia back into reality, back into who she was supposed to be.
Tonight, Cordelia Bennett would not slink into the shadows. She would be prevalent, gracious, and a little daring — it was about time she let her hair down, after all.
“A dance?” Cordy asks, eyes darting to the other members of the ball already starting to run to their places. “Princess Sophia you know for a fact I have two left feet, it’s a celebration in itself that I’m managing to walk in these shoes right now.” Cordelia pulled her large skirts to the side to reveal simple and nude-colored heeled shoes that were slightly too small -- considering they were Sophies.
As Sophie started to snake away from her, getting lost in the bustling crowd with everyone began to form lines to start the dance, Cordelia froze in place. Her hand gripped the glass tightly, only releasing it when a puzzled looking butler extended his tray for her to set the glass down upon. Cordelia stammered but quickly downed the wine before practically shoving the glass on the plate, hoping the butler didn’t recognize her. “Um, thank you,” she uttered before rushing to find the last spot available, across from a broad-shouldered young man with curls that looked gold under the chandeliers.
Even through the mask, Cordelia practically sighed at relief at the kindness she could see in his blue eyes.
Due to her staring and realizing that she was about to dance with a prince, Cordelia was late to her curtsey. Her brown eyes darted back and forth between the other women next to her in line, following every one of their movements. As the line started forward, she tried to effortlessly follow suit until she came face to face with the kind-looking man.
“Hello,” she offered quietly, passing him a small smile, praying to God that her nerves weren’t as prominent on her face as they felt. “I apologize, I’m a little rusty.” She graciously took his hand, circling him and trying her best to maintain eye contact, although she couldn’t help her gaze as it wandered to the other party-goers as they danced in circles around the glimmering ballroom.
She was here. At a ball. In a dress.
And she felt beautiful.
She tried her best to keep her composure as she and the steady prince swayed to the music, him leading her through it all, and Cordelia trying her absolute best to keep up. If the prince was unsatisfied with his partner, he didn’t seem to show it. However, he was also royal and Cordelia knew best that they were experts at hiding their emotions.
Suddenly, the pace of the music changed and the man then sent Cordelia spinning across the slick and tiled floor. Her auburn hair whipped through the air and her large dress shimmered under the chandeliers as she turned right into another pair of steady arms with a gasp.
“Oh dear,” she whispered to herself, catching her breath from the unsuspecting turn.
However, lifting her eyes from the man’s jacket -- which had traces of black and white dog hair at the collar -- Cordelia, once again, had the breath knocked out of her.
Every man here was handsome, the most beautiful and exquisite men she had ever seen, even with the masks. Sultry gazes, strong shoulders, full mouths. Cordelia was practically a walking bundle of nerves when she stepped into the ball. But this man? This man with depthless blue eyes that swam with intrigue, the kind yet coy smile that unfurled across his lips as she took his steady hand.
This man-made a simple servant girl feel like royalty herself.
Clearing her throat, snapping herself out of her daze, Cordelia softly said, “Thank you for catching me.” Her rose colored lips turned upwards into a shy grin as she tried to hold his gaze. She could feel the flush underneath her mask and she gripped the man’s shoulder a little tighter as if it were the only thing keeping her upright at the moment. By all means, it could have been. “I promise, I’ll try to not step on your feet.” She bit down on her bottom lip for a moment, eyes darting to their feet until the dance lead her eyes back to him as he flawlessly led her.
Maybe Princess Sophia should drag her out more often.