TW: Talk about addiction and drugs
The Selected's Wing, The Palace, Angeles, July 15th, 12:57pm
Lydie Tyler, 4, Belcourt
Lydie was walking down the corridor of the Selected's Wing, trying not to look uncomfortable. She felt as if the guards that were stationed every so often in the corridor somehow knew her secret and were about to arrest her, even though that was ridiculous.
Ixchel stuck her head out of the doorway of a nearby room. "Hey, Lydie, will you come in here for a moment?"
Lydie nodded, and stepped inside. She hadn't spoken to Ixchel very much yet, but she seemed friendly enough and Lydie was always down to make more friends. "What's up?"
Ixchel pulled an envelope from the pocket of her dress. Damn, how come her dress didn't have pockets? Lydie would have to ask her maids if that was possible. Ixchel held out the envelope towards Lydie. "This is for you. From a friend. For our mutual friend in Belcourt." She had never met Ixchel before, how could they have a mutual friend?
Then it dawned on her. She meant the rebellion.
Lydie had received a few letters from her family since arriving at the palace, but she had thrown them away without opening them, and she certainly hadn't written back.
With shaking hands, Lydie accepted the letter, and tried to think of a place to hide it. She couldn't just throw it away, what if the Selected's garbage was searched and it was found and opened? She knew her family wrote in predetermined code that would look like a perfectly normal letter to anyone reading it, but she didn't know what was in this note. She had thought she would be away from the rebellion here, but somehow it had followed her all the way to the palace.
"I'll see what I can do," she said nervously. It was easy to throw out her family's letters without opening them, but this would be so much more difficult. She didn't want to say no. How could she say no? This was important to her family.
She turned and left the room, letter still in hand. She couldn't go down the hall to play cards with Thea, like she had been planning to, she needed to figure out what to do with the note before she got caught with it and spent a lifetime in prison for treason.
Or was executed.
She stepped out onto the balcony, away from the watchful eyes of the guards, clutching the note. She looked down at it for a moment. The envelope was plain, a little worn, as if it had been carried around for a while. It bore no signs that it was a message from a rebel movement.
"Family troubles?" A male voice behind her asked.
She whirled around to see who it was. She had thought she was alone.
Micah was standing there, cigarette in one hand, looking questioningly at her. "You don't seem to want to open that." He gestured towards the letter in her hand with his free hand, raising the cigarette to his lips.
She looked down at the letter again. "No, I don't. Yes, family troubles."
He nodded. "I know the feeling. Hang on a second, I have a solution." He rummaged in his pocket for a moment, and pulled out a lighter. He waved it at her. "Here you go."
Oh, that was perfect. It would erase all the evidence of whatever the letter contained, and Lydie would get away free. She held out a hand to accept it, and he dropped it into her hand.
She stepped forward, placed the letter on the stone railing of the balcony, and set the corner of it on fire. Lydie felt bad about betraying her family like this, but she couldn't get the image of her hometown burning, just like the note, out of her head. That was what could happen if they did what they wanted to do. So really she hadn't betrayed her family by burning the note, she was just protecting them. Yes. Protecting them. That way she could do her duty to her family and to her country, and she wouldn't have to pick one.
The letter burnt quickly, leaving nothing but a small pile of ash, which Lydie quickly brushed away. She handed Micah his lighter back. "Thank you."
He nodded, accepting the lighter. "No problem. Like I said, I know the feeling."
The Selected's Wing, The Palace, Angeles, July 15th, 1:10pm
Thea Verdant, 4, Sumner
Thea dealt out the cards, and picked up her own hand. She grabbed another card off the top of the deck, took a peek at it, and passed it to Addie, who was on her left. Addie took a moment to look at it before removing a different card from her deck and passing it over to Cali, who Thea had finally gotten to agree to play with them. She had been hesitant, but Addie and Thea had finally worn her down.
Lydie came into the room, and sat down in the open chair at the table, in between Cali and Marlee. "Aww, you guys started without me?"
Thea quickly grabbed four cards off the top of the deck and handed them to Lydie. "No, there's still time for you to get in on the game." She added another spoon to the circle in the center of the table.
Cali passed her card over to Lydie, who passed it on down the line to Marlee, who took one look at it and set it down in the discard pile. Thea drew another card from the stack and passed it to Addie. It still wasn't what she needed.
They played in silence for a while, until Marlee said, "So, anyone have any pets back home? I have two dogs. Champagne and Baileys. My brother is taking care of them right now. He sent me a picture the other day."
"I have a goldfish," Thea said. "His name is Cecil. I tried to bring him here, but they wouldn't let me for some reason. I have no idea how a goldfish is a security risk, but apparently he was."
"I don't have any pets," Cali said, passing a card she no longer wanted on to Lydie.
"Me neither." Addie was focused on her cards, obviously thinking hard about the decision to discard or not.
"I have a dog. His name is Spots, because he's a Dalmatian." Lydie tried to sneakily reach for a spoon, but Thea spotted her, and scrambled to grab one for herself.
Addie was the only one without a spoon after everyone had grabbed for them, and she made a mock pouty face. Thea gathered up the deck of cards, and passed it to her so she could shuffle them.
"You're playing spoons? I was warned the Selected might fight, but I didn't think you'd try to intentionally start them." Eli came into the room, smiling slightly at them. "Or maybe it's just my weird family."
Thea shook her head. "Not just your family. My family will try to kill each other over this game too."
Eli sat down in an empty chair, in between Marlee and Thea. "Count me in for the next game. Unless you don't have another spoon somewhere. Where did you even get a bunch of spoons anyway?"
Thea did have another spoon, and she added it to the pile in the center of the table. "Addie sweet-talked one of her maids into borrowing them from the kitchens for her."
Addie nodded as she finished shuffling the cards. "It wasn't really that hard. I just asked politely. We're good friends." She dealt out four cards to everyone at the table.
Eli took a look at his hand, and seemed pleased with it. - That was not a good sign. Thea resolved to keep one eye on him as they played. Addie pulled a card off the stack in the middle, and added it to her hand, passing a different card on to Cali.
When Eli got the card, he immediately swapped it out for one of the ones in his hand, and passed a card on to Thea. Yup, she needed to keep one eye on him alright. He was probably very close to winning now. Sure enough, within a few minutes he had found the card he needed.
But Cali had gotten there first, and Eli had to join in a mad scramble to grab a spoon from the center of the table. He and Marlee both ended up holding on to the same spoon. She shot a mock glare at him, and he just grinned back. "I touched it first."
She rolled her eyes, and released the spoon. "Fine." She looked as if she was holding back a mock insult.
Eli noticed too, because he said, "Come on. Out with it. I guarantee you I've been called worse. I promise I won't eliminate you."
"Alright, dickhead," she said in a joking tone, grinning at him.
He laughed, and grinned back, wider than before. "Perfect. I knew you could do it." He set the spoon back on the table in front of her. "You can have it though, I came down here for a reason, not just to play cards. Has anybody seen Micah? He's supposed to be around somewhere."
Lydie turned towards him. "He's out on the balcony smoking."
"Okay. Sweet. Thank you." Eli stood up. "I'll be seeing all of you around. Have fun." He turned and left the room, leaving them to continue their game alone again. Thea removed the extra spoon from the game, and Addie passed the cards on to Cali to shuffle.
The Selected's Wing, The Palace, Angeles, July 15th, 1:34pm
Elijah
Eli stepped out onto the balcony, and was immediately met with a cloud of cigarette smoke. He waved it away, coughing. "Was that on purpose?" He asked Micah.
Micah nodded, taking another drag and blowing out another stream of smoke, not in Eli's direction this time.
"You're going to give me cancer, you asshole." Eli moved up to lean against the railing of the balcony. "And I'm going to smell like cigarette smoke all through my next meeting."
"Sounds like a you problem." Micah put out his cigarette on the balcony railing and tossed the butt in a flower pot.
"Yeah, you're right." He turned to look at Micah. "How'd it go?"
"What? Oh, right, you wanted me to play messenger boy for you. I gave Saige your note. How'd breakfast go with Erin?"
"She did not change her perfume, unfortunately." Eli made a face. "I ended it early and went to take something and lay down in a dark room. I think I'll eliminate her after the ball."
"That sucks. Feeling better now?"
"Yeah." Eli ran a hand across his face. "I skipped a meeting though. It wasn't anything important, fortunately. I pissed off some healthcare committee probably, but all I was going to do was sit there and nod along and look pretty."
Micah laughed. "You, look pretty?"
Eli rolled his eyes. "Shut up, girls think I'm pretty, you're just straight."
"Okay, fair enough." Micah fished a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, pulled one out, and lit up another one. "I talked to a couple of other Selected."
"Hands off," Eli said jokingly.
"It's not like you actually care." Micah took a drag off his cigarette.
"I guess that's fair." Eli stared out over the gardens. It was true. He didn't feel much about any of the Selected. And he certainly couldn't imagine marrying any of them. He reminded himself that it was early still, that things could always change, that anything could happen over the course of the next few months.
By then he might even be over her.
Unlikely.
To distract himself from that thought, he asked, "Who'd you talk to?"
"Well, I saw Willa first, on my way to give Saige the note."
"Yeah? What did she say?" Eli still wasn't sure what he was going to do about the situation with Wilhelmina yet. The idea of dating her was just flat out awkward, and he knew there was still bad blood between her and Jenn. But he didn't want to send her back to face her family so soon. That he understood all too well.
"I think she still hates my guts." Micah blew out a mouthful of smoke. "Actually, I'm pretty sure she still hates my guts." He took another drag. "I don't hate her. Never really did, actually. And we're all adults now, it's stupid to not be over some petty childhood grudge."
Eli patted Micah on the shoulder. "Look at you! So grown up and mature," he said in an intentionally patronizing tone.
"Shut up, I'm older than you."
"Six months," Eli protested. "And we both know you're more immature than me."
"That's because you're the fucking crown prince, if I was about to be in charge of a country I'd be going grey at twenty-five too."
"I'm not going grey!" Eli ran a hand self-consciously through his hair. "Am I?" Now he was kind of worried about that. Stress did make people go grey earlier.
"No, you're not, relax. I was fucking with you. You still look like a sixteen year old."
"That's not a compliment, you asshole." Eli personally thought that he didn't look like a sixteen year old, but he was well aware that he looked younger than he actually was.
"It wasn't meant to be, I'm glad you recognize that. It'll be a compliment when you're fifty."
"Fifty and still getting carded at bars." Eli laughed. "I'm doomed to a life of having to show my driver's license every time I buy alcohol."
"When was the last time you got carded?" Eli didn't have an answer. He had never been carded. He had practically just walked into clubs well underage. Nobody carded the crown prince. "Hell, when was the last time you bought alcohol?"
Eli did have an answer to that one, even though he didn't actually physically go into a store and buy alcohol very often. "May 25th, last year." He had bought a bottle of wine the day before Isabelle's birthday, and they had gotten drunk together a day early and spent the whole next day in bed nursing hangovers and making out. Ten days later she had been dead.
"And did you get carded?"
"Nope."
"See?" Micah took one last drag off his cigarette, put it out, and tossed the butt in the flowerpot.
"You made your point. I'll probably never be carded, you're right, no matter how old I might look." Eli tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. "Did you talk to anyone else?"
"Yeah. Lydie came out here for a minute." Micah hesitated for a moment, fiddling with his lighter, flicking the flame on and off.
"Oh, I liked her when we met." He really had. She had seemed pretty cool, and he wanted to spend more time with her. It was a shame she hadn't talked much when they had played cards.
"Yeah. She has family issues, I think. Had a letter she didn't want to open. I loaned her my lighter so she could burn it."
Eli nodded. "I wasn't planning to send her home anytime soon either way, but I'll keep that in mind." He knew the feeling. So did Micah for that matter. "Heard from your mom lately?" He knew that Micah probably didn't want to talk about it, but Eli worried sometimes.
"Nope." Micah shoved his lighter back into his pocket. "And if I do it'll mean she's finally kicked the bucket, so I hope I don't."
Eli went to rest a hand on his shoulder, but Micah turned and headed back inside before he could. Eli sighed, but knew better than to follow. Micah would be fine, he probably just needed some space. He didn't like to talk about his mom, and Eli couldn't blame him.
Eli headed back inside a few moments later, once he knew Micah would be out of sight. He had one more thing to do before he headed off to his next meeting. He fished the box out of the bag he had left outside the balcony door, and headed down the hall.
He stopped outside of Zenya's door, and knocked on it. A maid opened the door. "Lady Zenya isn't here right now, can I help you?"
Eli nodded, and handed her the box. "Leave this out for her. Tell her it's from me." He really did want to get to know Zenya, and he intended to make the effort to try, even if it wasn't exactly easy.
The Women's Room, The Palace, Angeles, July 15th, 1:58pm
Zenya Laventis, 5, Sota
When Zenya stepped into the Women's Room, she immediately spotted Addie waving at her from the front row, then pointing to the seat next to her. Addie usually sat in the back, in between Thea and Gemma, so Zenya was surprised to see her in the front. But after looking around to make sure no one else was directly behind her, Zenya headed to the front of the room.
Addie smiled widely as Thea approached. "Hi. I saved you a seat," she said, signing awkwardly as she did. Her grammar was off, but Zenya didn't mind. She sat down in the empty seat next to Addie.
"Thanks. But you didn't need to do that."
Addie shrugged. "I just thought that you needed friends. And what good is a friend who can't talk to you?" She signed every few words, obviously concentrating hard to try to remember the few words she had learned.
"Well, thank you." She would probably get along very well with Addie, she knew, but she didn't want anyone to only spend time with her out of pity.
Gemma slid into the seat on her other side, and passed a note onto Zenya's desk. If you need any help with the lessons, just let me know. I'm always willing to help out, it read.
Zenya turned towards Gemma. "Thanks, but I'll be alright." She didn't want to be that deaf girl everyone had to help. She could do this on her own.
Gemma nodded. "Well, the offer always stands. Just let me know."
The front row was a much better place than the middle row Zenya had been sitting in, and she had a much easier time trying to read Lindsey's lips as she spoke. Still, it was difficult. She was grateful that Lindsey wrote important things on the whiteboard as she talked, because it made it easier to pick out words from context.
"Alright, ladies." Lindsey clapped her hands. "We've got a very big event coming up this Saturday." She paused for a moment, for dramatic effect. "It's a tradition of the Selection that a ball takes place at the end of the first two weeks, to give the Selected a taste of royal life. And this Saturday, we will be reaching the two week mark. That means you will all need to be prepared for the event. We've already gone over proper address and behavior last week, so while we will be reviewing that as well this week, we will also be doing dancing lessons in preparation for the occasion. So that means I'll be needing you ladies to partner up."
It only took a few minutes for everyone to partner up. Addie grabbed Zenya to be her partner, and pulled her out into the middle of the floor. Neither of them were particularly good dancers, and Zenya couldn't hear the directions for their steps that Lindsey was giving, making her even worse.
Many of the other pairs were floundering similarly, but a few of them were doing well. Lena and Isla were near perfect already, and Brielle and Wilhelmina, Lainey and Violet, and Cassandra and Flo seemed to be doing well too.
After they had been through it once, Lindsey stopped everyone, and went up to Lena and Isla. She said something to them, then headed over to Zenya and Addie. She put a hand on Zenya's shoulder to get her to look at her, and said, "Why don't you go partner with Lena, since she already has the dance mostly down?"
Zenya nodded, and went to go dance with Lena instead, feeling rather annoyed. She didn't need help or special treatment, but everyone seemed determined to make sure she got it anyway.
Even with Lena's help, she didn't feel that she got any better at dancing, and was thoroughly discouraged by the time she headed back to her room an hour later. Her days in the Selection were numbered, she just knew it. The only reason Prince Elijah was still keeping her around was out of pity.
She stepped into her room, and immediately spotted a small box that clearly contained the latest model smartphone sitting in the middle of her dresser. "What's that?" She asked one of her maids.
She looked up from what she was cleaning. "It's from Prince Elijah. He stopped by to deliver it himself this afternoon."
He stopped by himself? Maybe her days weren't so numbered after all. She had heard that he was sending Micah to deliver messages most of the time. She went to open the box.
There was a folded note on heavy white paper sitting on top of the smooth black glass screen of the phone. Zenya picked it up, and carefully unfolded it.
(310)-405-2541
Text me
Eli
She smiled slightly, and picked up the phone carefully, afraid she was going to drop it and break it. She turned it on, and found that it was partially charged. She went through the setup process, plugged it in to charge the rest of the way, and entered Eli's number in as her first contact. She couldn't talk on the phone with her parents, so there was no point in putting their number in, and she didn't know anyone else who had a phone that could text.
She hesitated for a moment, thinking that he was most likely busy, but then decided that she might as well just go for it. She sent a text to Eli. She was slow at typing it out, not used to typing on a screen like that, and still afraid that she was going to drop it.
Zenya: Hi this is Zenya
Zenya: Did I get the number in right
A few minutes passed, during which Zenya searched for apps to download, freaked out because she might have messed up the number, then freaked out again because what if he was busy and annoyed because she had texted. But eventually it buzzed in her hand, and a text popped up on the screen, then two more in quick succession. He was clearly a lot faster at this than she was.
Elijah: Hi!
Elijah: You did, it's Eli here.
Elijah: How do you like it?
She began slowly typing out a response.
Zenya: Good I was starting to get worried
Zenya: It is pretty nice I am still trying to figure out how everything works
Zenya: Where is the punctuation I can not find it
It took him a few more minutes to respond, and Zenya started to get nervous again, when a much longer message popped up on her screen.
Elijah: There should be a little button down in the left corner with numbers on it. If you hit that it'll change the keyboard so you can pick punctuation. And if you don't see what you need there, there will be another button on the left above the button to switch back to the normal keyboard with different symbols on it, and if you hit that you can see more. Does that help?
She hit the button he said to hit, and found the punctuation.
Zenya: Yes! Thank you!
Elijah: No problem.
Elijah: I'm technically in a meeting right now and probably shouldn't be texting under the table, so I'll talk to you later, okay? Feel free to text me if you have more questions and I'll answer when I have time.
Zenya immediately felt bad. She hadn't meant to interrupt anything.
Zenya: I'm sorry I didn't realize you were busy.
Elijah: Don't worry about it, it was boring anyway (:
Elijah: See you at dinner
Near the Dining Room, The Palace, Angeles, July 15th, 7:16pm
Gemma Albright, 2, Likely
Gemma made her way back from the dining room on her own. Many of the other Selected had already left, in groups and in pairs, but Gemma had waited a little longer, and so had to walk by herself.
The sound of glass shattering came from a room to Gemma's left, and then the sound of a male voice swearing. Her first instinct was to step into the room and see what was wrong, even though she was slightly out of bounds for the Selected.
She stepped inside, and saw Micah standing at one end of the dimly lit room, standing over a broken hand mirror. He turned at the sound of her footsteps, opening his mouth as if to say something, but closed it again upon seeing who she was. He was silent for a moment, clearly trying to figure out what to say. "Don't tell Eli," he said after a moment, with guilt all over his face.
Gemma took another step into the room. "What am I not telling Eli?"
He gestured wordlessly to the broken mirror on the floor, and, looking closer, Gemma could see that bits of partially crushed pills were mingled with the broken pieces. Her heart dropped. She had seen a scene like this a thousand times before, at party after party. But this was alone, in a dark room, at seven o'clock. And that was when you knew you had a problem, in moments like these.
Gemma was silent for a moment, trying to figure out what to say, how she could help. "Do you want to talk?" She offered eventually, unsure what else to say.
He hesitated, still staring down at the fragments of mirror on the floor, as if he was considering searching through the pieces to see how much of the powder he could salvage, but eventually he looked back up at Gemma. "Yeah. Sure." He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "But not here." He looked down at the shards one more time before he stepped away.
"Of course not." She absolutely agreed that they shouldn't talk here. "Let's go upstairs."
He nodded, and followed her up the stairs, into a small, out of the way sitting room. He sat down on one of the couches, and Gemma sat down on the one across from him, smoothing out her skirt.
"You won't tell Eli, will you?" Micah looked away out the window, refusing to meet her eyes, most likely horribly ashamed of himself. Gemma knew the feeling all too well, and never wanted to feel it again.
"I won't," she promised. "But I think you should probably tell him yourself."
"Yeah, I know. But he has too much on his plate already." Micah turned back to look towards Gemma.
"Tell me then. I have nothing on my plate but protocol." She smiled encouragingly.
He sunk back into the couch, arms folded. "You wouldn't understand."
She crossed her legs neatly. "Try me." He had no idea just how much she would understand. In fact, she understood far too well.
"You wouldn't know unless you've been there."
"Maybe I have."
"You?" He laughed. "Come on. That's fucking crazy."
She shrugged. "There are people who would say that it's crazy for you to have a drug problem."
"Yeah, fair enough." He unfolded his arms. "What's your story, then?"
She hadn't intended to share, but if it put him at ease it might be a good idea. "When I was a teenager I turned to alcohol and partying as a solution to my problems." She shrugged. "We both know that's a terrible solution, right?"
He nodded. "It never works."
"Then I almost died. I drove straight into a tree, just before my nineteenth birthday. I was drunk at the time. I went to a party hours after I got out of the hospital. I was there, with a drink in my hand, and I realized that this wasn't healthy, this wasn't normal, and I had a problem. As much as I hated to think it, I was… am, an alcoholic. I tried to stop on my own, but I couldn't do it, so I got help. Made some changes, turned my life around. Tomorrow I'll have been sober for two years."
"I'm not an alcoholic," Micah said quietly. "I don't know how you can be here. There's alcohol everywhere."
"It's been a struggle," Gemma admitted. "But I keep in contact with my people back home, and that helps."
He nodded. "As of last Friday I have seven months." He held out his arm, and let her see the marks in the crook of his left elbow. They spoke for themselves, and she knew exactly what his drug of choice was. He hastily folded his arms again after letting her see. "Yeah. It's not exactly classy. Or what you'd expect from me."
"There's nothing classy about passing out in your own vomit," she said. "Which I've done. On multiple occasions. There's nothing classy about addiction. To anything."
"Yeah," he said, so quietly that she could hardly hear him. "I know."
"I'm not judging," she said firmly. "I judge no one for their demons. After all, I have my own."
"Thanks," he said, staring down at his shoes.
"Do you have any support? Other than Eli?"
He shook his head. "He's the only person who stuck around after it got so bad that I stopped being any fun at parties. And he's relying on me for a lot right now, I don't want to stress him out more."
Gemma knew the feeling all too well. She had had her own crowd of party friends who hadn't stuck around when she had gotten sober. "As long as I'm here, you can talk to me."
He looked up from his shoes, up at her. "What?"
"You heard me." She fiddled with the bracelet on her wrist. "I could use someone to talk to in person myself. Doing it over the internet just isn't the same."
"Like AA?" He asked. "But cooler, because I went once and hated it. Well, it was technically NA, but same difference."
"Sure," she agreed. "I'm in if you are."
Cassandra's Room, The Palace, Angeles, July 20th, 6:10pm
Cassandra White, 2, Allens
One of her maids finished putting her red hair up into an elaborate braided bun, and Cassandra immediately waved her away once it was done. She wanted to do her makeup herself, to make sure it changed her face in all the right ways, without making her look tacky. It was important not to look tacky. The future queen should never look tacky.
She looked in the mirror, poking at a blemish on her face. Of course, she had to get a pimple just before the ball. She was supposed to be perfect, to catch Eli's eye with her beauty and queenly qualities. Pimples didn't work in that image.
Oh well. That was what makeup was for. She picked a brush up out of the cup all the palace-provided makeup brushes had been neatly organized in, and began the process of transforming her face, hiding every possible imperfection.
When she was finally finished, it was almost time to join the group of Selected to head down to the ball. She gave her reflection in the mirror a satisfied smile, and went to slip into her heels. Lindsey had told them earlier that day that the Selected would be announced in alphabetical order by province, making Cassandra the first to enter the ballroom, which was where she belonged.
She stepped into the hallway where the Selected had gathered, the picture of grace and poise. Nobody spoke to her, and she didn't speak to anyone. She hadn't exactly been mean, but she hadn't been particularly nice to any of the Selected either, and she was sure some of them had noticed that she didn't exactly bear goodwill towards anyone who was taking what ought to be her place.
She spotted Brielle, who had had the first date. Cassandra wondered what she had done to get that. She was sure she could have done it, and done it better, if she had known what it was. Maybe she had used some tactic that Wilhelmina had suggested. Cassandra wondered, not for the first time, if she had made a mistake in distancing herself from Wilhelmina. Could she have gotten clues that would have helped her make a better first impression, if she had sucked up? But no, sucking up like that wasn't in Cassandra's nature. She wouldn't have been able to resist making biting comments about how unfair it was that Wilhelmina was here.
Lindsey came in, and led all the Selected down to the entrance to the large ballroom. They had been to the small ballroom two weeks before to meet Eli, but the large ballroom was new, and it was much grander. While the entrance to the ballroom was on the first floor, the floor of the large ballroom was set down in the basement, so to get down, guests had to descend a grand staircase. Large grand crystal chandeliers were hung from the ceiling, illuminating the floor below. At the same level as the first floor, a balcony hugged the walls, providing any party-goers who wanted to be away from the chaos of the floor a quieter place to retreat to.
Lindsey arranged all the Selected in order by province, and gestured to the men at the doors to begin. They opened the doors, and Lindsey gestured for Cassandra to step through. She didn't have to be told twice, and entered the ballroom through the grand double doors, head held high.
A man in a well-tailored black suit waited at the top of the stairs, ready to introduce anyone who entered. As soon as Cassandra stepped through the doors, he announced, in a loud voice, "Announcing the Selected Lady Cassandra White, from Allens."
She smiled widely, and began her graceful walk down the stairs to the floor of the ballroom. Nothing could dampen her good mood tonight. She was going to show the world just what she was worth.
Then she caught sight of her father, standing near the drinks table and shaking his head slightly at her. It was a warning, that she would do well to avoid alcohol, as she had been for the past year. The reminder of just how imperfect she was was enough to crush her good mood somewhat, but she kept her smile on and her head held high. She knew that she had what it took, and it was time to show everyone else that.
AN: Thank you all for reading!
Next week: THE BALL
