A/N: I uploaded! Yay! I have a new system that I'm going to try on my uploading. I'm not going to upload a chapter until the next chapter is finished. Meaning, that if I update Chapter 2, then I have Chapter 3 done. But I won't upload 3 until 4 is done. Also, I'd like to say: Ignore the grammar and spelling errors. Microsoft Word says it's fine, and I haven't found time to edit it. Thanks for reading!
Chapter Two:
Throughout the whole day, Elena could not concentrate. Her mind was clouded by wayward thoughts that she really couldn't afford if she were to be happy. The only time she felt sane was when she was back at the Gilbert Estate, soaking in a bath. She was prepping herself for the ball. She had to be sure to not picture a partly bare chest on Prince Stefan if she saw him and definitely not imagine a half-naked god when she saw Prince Damon.
The water had turned cold and her fingers had become wrinkled. She got out and dried herself, dressing into the gown her mother had lain out for her. It was a pastel pink corset dress, rimmed with golden lace at the ends of its three quarter sleeves. The dress began at the collar bone and tugged tightly on her arm, since the sleeves didn't hang in her shoulders. The corset she was wearing made what little bust she had look seducing, if possible, but she tried not to think like that after the morning she had. Stitched into the pink dress were some of the most breathtaking and complex designs Elena had seen on any dress. She stared at herself in a looking glass, catching her breath in her throat.
There was a knock at the door; her mother countered in, gasping and gazing at her daughter in utter awe. "Simply stunning," Isobel cooed. "My beautiful daughter, Elena." She squeezed he shoulders tightly in an attempt to assure the seventeen year old of its truth. She tugged on strands of her silky soft brown hair, fixing the parting of her roots in the mirror.
Thank you, mother," Elena replied in a whisper. She agreed. She looked beautiful. She felt beautiful.
The carriage is leaving in twenty minutes. Your brother is waiting for you downstairs." Isobel stated. She nodded, still gaping.
Most of her life, Elena felt insignificant. Before the age of thirteen, she was prized and jeweled. After her father died, it was as if she was a completely different person in everyone's eyes. She was treated like she was irrelevant, and soon that was how she felt. It wasn't the life she was born into that she was leading and it felt as if her birth rights were being taken from her.
It was a very selfish way of thinking, and she learned early on that if she were ever fully going to be happy, she had to stop. It was what she liked to think as her selflessness that got her to where she was, he purity that had allowed her brother the life they would've shared if things were different. She never really felt like all the things she was forced into or chose to do mattered very much, until now, when she stared at her reflection. She glowed.
The carriage pulled to the velvet covered stair case that led to the main entrance to the Royal Palace. The stone railings were decorated in expensive looking ribbons and white peonies. The lights of the castle exploded into the window of the carriage. It was funny for her to think that only a few hours ago, she was helping create this masterpiece. Elena reached for Jeremy's hand for comfort, in attempt to calm the nerves in her core. It didn't help one bit. Jeremy gripped hers tightly in response.
A man opened the carriage door and Elena was the first to step out into the beautiful maroon velvet carpeting that marked the path to inside the castle. Jeremy followed. As they walked (she pacing respectfully behind her brother), the bows and curtsies that they did and received seemed to haze away, like instinct or routine.
The ballroom was decorated beautifully. The double stairwell that rimmed the left and white walls of its entrance had people marching up and down, mingling with others. The floor itself wasn't as crowded, though there were clumps of people here and there, dancing to the small quintet playing in the corner. It was a private ball, where an invitation or connection was needed. Because of this, the guest population was a little small. Scanning the crowd, Elena estimated about a hundred guests. Overall, the scene made her smile inside, even though it made her three times as nervous.
"There is my mentor, Alaric," Jeremy whispered to Elena, pointing to a man in a corner. Elena had never actually met Alaric. He had fair brown hair on his head that appeared again roughly on his chin. He wore a homely smile, though his eyes didn't match. They were rough as well. Handsome, no doubt. He was conversing with another man, who held a women on his arm. Jeremy tugged Elena's hand, urging to introduce her to them. She followed without a noticeable hesitation.
"Hello, Jeremy," Alaric greeted, never taking his eyes off her. "And you must be Elena. I'm Alaric Saltzman. It's nice to finally meet you."
Elena nodded then curtsied politely.
"This is Tyler Lockwood of the Lockwood Estate," Alaric continued after introducing himself, "And his wife, Hayley." They exchanged formalities.
Then they went into talking about politics and how Mrs. Flowers allowed her pigs to run amuck. She knew Mrs. Flowers; she was a widow and her gate used to hold her pigs in collapsed a few months ago due to a terrible storm. She couldn't afford to rebuild it, but they didn't mention this as they conversed about it. The proceeded to discuss things that Elena couldn't, no matter how much she tried (which was a lot), find any amusement in. She let herself gradually drift out of the conversation by staring around the floor and room at the many people and decorations. Ten or so minutes later, she excused herself entirely and went to the refreshments table. She grabbed a glass of white wine and sipped it slowly.
One arm was crossed around her chest, resting against the tough shell of her corset. The other held her glass. She rested her back against the wall next to the table and continued to study the room, along with all its trimmings. She simply loved each little detail of the decor. She took the time she had to herself to take it all in…and catch her breath. She wasn't used to the breathtaking corset. Literally.
She then looked pointedly at one of the serving table's legs and the little specks of silver that can be seen under it. Her surprise could be imagined when she found out that Rose had used the tray she spent so much time and effort searching for to balance out a serving table that had been rocking back and forth. Not only was it an awkward use of a tray like that, it also added on to the frustration she had, ignited firstly by the egos and skin of both Salvatore princes.
She heard a cough. The sound was all too familiar and made Elena turn her head, only to see her best friend in a white uniform dress in pristine shape, with a silver tray in her hand. Excited, Elena ran and hugged Bonnie by her waist, shocking her and leaving her shaking and trying to balance the food on her silver tray. "Oh, thank Heavens! You are here!" Elena rejoiced quietly but audibly against the fabric of Bonnie's clothes. She continued, whispering to her ear this time, "Now you can keep me company! They all have heads as big as their confidence and I find myself impeccably bored! Jeremy and his mentor I must exclude from this."
Bonnie laughed. "Hello to you too, Elena. But may I suggest that you let go of me? Unless you want their conversations directed to you," she negotiated. Elena knew she was right, and let go of her, allowing her to contain herself. Elena pretended to fix the imaginary creases that were impossible to make on her tight corset dress. "But, you do look beautiful."
"Thank you," she sighed.
A trumpet sounded, and all heads turned from their conversations to the double doors on the balcony where the two stair cases met. Elena held her breath, watching. The interesting events of the night were just about to begin. The trumpet combined with the quintet in the corner began to play the kingdom's anthem. It had no lyrics and took only three lines, but former soldiers and men across the floor saluted as it played. When the music died down, the floor clapped, before turning their attention to a man who stood in the center of the balcony. It was a man of the Royal circle, who Elena believed to be the Grand Duke, named Zachariah Salvatore. He was first cousin to the brothers on the king's side.
"We have all gathered on this night in celebration," Zachariah said. "What for? Some of you might find yourselves asking this question. Well, if any of you are lucky enough to travel the world, you'll find that societies such as ours have their traditions. Some cultures prepare different food, wear different clothes, and speak in different tongues. They have a different reason for a man to become a man. In some places, a man is a man at the age of fifteen. In others, they become men at sixteen, eighteen, and even twenty one. But for us, in the kingdom of Mystic Falls, a boy is a man when he turns the age of twenty-four. Why do I say this? Well, two months ago from this evening, our eldest prince and future king became a man!" Everyone clapped their hands.
"What is it that makes a man?" The speakers changed. The next to speak was Lady Alexia of Fell's Church, who stood on the very right of the same floor Zachariah stood on. Her blonde hair was let loose, and she looked stunning in her meadow green dress. She continued, "A man can provide for himself and those he cares for, his loved ones. A boy is a man when he'd do anything to protect his people, his village, and his kingdom. A man is not only physically strong, but mentally fierce as well. He can prove himself to be fearless, as well as intelligent. But, what may surprise you is that though all of these combined make the basis of what a man is supposed to be, they do not make up the entire foundation of who a man really is, and whether or not he really is a man."
Once again, the speakers changed. Now it was Lord Joseph, Lady Alexia's brother and owner of the land Fell's Church was built upon, who spoke next. He stood on the left side of the balcony, completely opposing his sister. All heads visibly turned to look at him. "For a man is not truly a man until he can feel. But before I continue on, be aware that my sister and I did not trade parts!" He looked specifically at someone in the crowd, who must've commented when they were rehearsing this speech, and everyone seemed to laugh. "Anyway, a boy is not a man until he can love with a passion, and hate with a fire. Until he is capable of saying and truly meaning the words 'I love you' to the women he sleeps with at night. Until his heart begins to break at the sight of her walking away. Until he admits to his love and compassion. This is a man." There was the roaring of voices and the applauding of hands coming from everyone in the giant room. Elena felt compelled to do it, and Bonnie patted her free hand to the open wrist of the hand carrying her serving tray.
The quintet and trumpet began to play again, a melodic tune, as the double doors opened. First, King Giuseppe strode out in a royal purple cape on his back and golden crown on his head, with as much grace as fierceness that the man could hold in his sharp features, and took a place next to Lord Joseph on the floor. Next came Prince Stefan, wearing an off white shirt under his suit (with all buttons sealed), who took a place next to Lady Alexia. She smiled fondly at her cousin, taking one of his hands in her white glove. Both relaxed against the railings of the balcony as the man of honor countered through the doors and Elena caught her breath in her throat.
Prince Damon was wearing clothes this time; that's all that really mattered for Elena. But in detail, his suit was pitch black and matched his raven hair. Though everything about his look was simple, something he wore made his icy blue eyes pop. Whoa, they were so blue! His face looked humorless, but there was a spit-fire in his irises that Elena couldn't find it within herself to ignore.
She felt a pinch on her arm and jumped. Since she had her right arm locked with Bonnie's left, she narrowed her eyes on her best friend, whose facial expression shared the same seriousness the eldest Prince had shown. "Two things, my dear Elena, which I must say. One, you are staring at that man with a suspicious look in your eyes. Stop. Two, people are starting to talk, and I don't want the subject of their conversations to be you, especially if it is ill willed. Do you understand?"
Of course, the minds of the occupants in the room wouldn't understand her circumstances, and would then torment her for her loyalties to her best friend, who happened to be a maid. Of course, she was a maid as well, but most of them weren't aware of this. It was likely that they believed Elena was Jeremy's cousin, except for Alaric who was informed of her situation. Though she was wary about it, Elena nodded, turning away to get her drink from the table where she left it and going to where Jeremy stood.
He was no longer with his mentor or the Lockwood couple, but instead a blonde headed man and a copper-haired woman. Wait, the woman looked strangely familiar. Elena shook her head at the thought, looking back up at the balcony, for the presentation wasn't yet finished.
Zachariah was continuing on. "The schedule of the night is set. They are still preparing the food in the back, but in roughly a half hour, the dinner will be served. May I remind you all to stay in the seats with your name card? If you have any questions or concerns on the menu of the night, which can be found near the side of the refreshments table, please see one of the servers. After the dinner, the floor will be cleared for a few dances. First, a sciortis, then a waltz, then a minuet. Thank you, everyone, and enjoy your evening!" There were more claps, and again Elena was compelled to follow the example of the people around her.
As people once again began to mingle, Jeremy introduced Elena to his new set of company. The man was Matthew Donovan, who travelled from across the country here with his sister, the copper-haired woman, Victoria Donovan. "It's a pleasure to meet you," Elena greeted as she curtsied.
"The pleasure is all mine," Mr. Donovan said, taking her bare hand in his and kissing it ever so lightly.
They continued on to their conversation. Ms. Donovan had this glum expression on her face that Elena didn't like. Jeremy, however, managed to keep himself entertained with her comments. As Elena studied the air between them, she didn't like where they might lead. Mr. Donovan, who had been insistent on her calling him Matt, would not stop staring at her the whole time. She was insistent on calling him Mister, for it made her a lot more comfortable, and found herself flustered by the attention.
All too quickly, she heard bells, and the Grand Duke, Zachariah, called out to the crowd of people, "Dinner is served!"