This chapter and the next two to come focus on Prince Kael'thas's Birthday Ball. I broke it up for context, so it flows better. Enjoy!

Chapter 5

Part 1 of 3

Dust motes danced within a small sliver of sunlight that pierced through the darkened curtains surrounding her bed. Raising her arm up towards this bright intruder, Isolde watched as the specks swirled around her spread fingers, her movements disturbing the particles and making them scatter.

Allowing her arm to fall heavily back onto the bed, she sighed heavily, burrowing further into the blankets and pulling the pillow over her head.

It was the day of the Prince's Birthday Ball and while many a female were undoubtedly awake and preparing with a sense of excitement or panic, she couldn't even muster the energy to get out of bed. Closing her eyes, she allowed her thoughts to drift, Anshul's gasping breath loud in her memories ear, her stomach clenching as she remembered the various positions they tried and the multiple orgasms they had wrung from one another.

They had made love long into the early morning hours, the pair exhausted yet happy as Anshul escorted her home amongst the remnants of what was another long night of celebrating for the citizens of Silvermoon. Wendry had been waiting for her by the servant quarters with dark circles under her eyes, her anxiousness graciously buckling to sweet relief that her young mistress was back and safe.

Shyly, Isolde brought her hand down and cupped her breast, squeezing the fleshy globe like Anshul had done. Her stomach clenched as she recalled how her body had responded to his guidance, how he had shown her how to touch him, how he'd spread her legs and feasted on her swollen sex. She moaned softly, her hips jerking as she thought of him behind her while she rested on her hands and knees, the force of which he drove into her enough to make her hold onto the headboard...

Her musings were interrupted by the door to her room gently opening, followed by the soft rattle of dishes on a tray as it was placed on the table nearby.

"Are you awake, my Lady?"

It was Wendry. Blushing, Isolde pulled the pillow away and rolled over onto her back, staring balefully at the curtains that shielded her from view. She sat up and rubbed at her eyes, unable to quell the disappointment that washed over her.

"Yes."

Parting the hangings, Wendry secured them to the bedpost before turning and pouring a cup of tea, which she then offered to Isolde. She in turn accepted the steaming cup, but not before sniffing at the dark tea suspiciously.

"Wendry, what is this tea you have me drinking the last few mornings? I did not want to say anything at first, but I really must do so now. This is so bitter and wretched, I can barely swallow it. I much rather prefer the sweetened sage mint. Please, the scent alone is enough to turn my stomach. Take it away."

With downcast eyes, Wendry took the cup back, her face pinched. Frowning, Isolde watched her as she moved to sit on the end of the bed. "Is something amiss, Wendry?"

Her maid turned towards her, her gaze fixated on a point on the floor, hands folded in front of her. "No my Lady, why do you ask?"

Unconvinced, Isolde tilted her head. "You haven't been able to look me in the eye for the past handful of days and you have been behaving strangely. Is it truly a wonder that I ask if something is wrong?"

Wendry glanced up at her, opening her mouth to speak when the doors to the room burst open. Her mother, followed by two servants carrying two large boxes wrapped in yellow ribbon, entered the room. Wendry stiffened and backed away, standing near the wall as Isolde stood to greet her mother, bracing herself for the day ahead.

"Are you just now getting up?" Solandis asked, her tone indicating that she had been expecting for her daughter to be waiting on tenterhooks, eager to start the long process of getting ready for the ball. "No matter, your dress has arrived!"

The two girls carrying the boxes lifted the lids off, both lifting separate layers of an unending stream of gold and red fabric, an embroidered corset attached to a bejeweled choker that glistened with blood rubies.

Isolde stared, immediately regretting that she gave her mother creative allowance over her ballgown.

"Isn't it beautiful?!", her mother asked, pulling up one of the sleeves which had long cuffs that would hang over her hand.

"Oh, yes, it is quite...unique." She couldn't think of anything else to say, but apparently her response wasn't exuberant or admiring enough.

"Come now, Isolde, don't be so glib! You sound just like your father!" Solandis turned and studied her daughter. "I know you are not interested in the Prince, don't think I haven't noticed."

"Minn'da, I know what you expect of me, but I-"

"No," Solandis stated, slashing her hand through the air as she interrupted Isolde. "This is not only your introduction into our society, this is also your first impression that you will make with everyone who matters, including the Royals. You could be Queen one day, if you would only see past this obsession you have with that lowly Innkeeper!"

Frozen in place, heart in her throat, the bitter taste of betrayal flooded Isolde's body. Luminous eyes flicked over to Wendry, her maid still as a statue as she stared at the wall. The only sign of emotion was the shine of unshed tears that welled in her eyes, her treachery exposed.

The touch of her mother's hands on her face brought her gaze forward again. "Now, you are to get ready, compose and conduct yourself like the well bred Lady I raised you to be. You are a Bel'Tannen, it is time for you to act like one."

Solandis turned to go, but not before pausing before the double doors. "Wendry, you are dismissed."

Wendry's choked sob echoed loudly in the chamber as Isolde watched her scurry past her mother, who stood staring at the table with the untouched tea service. "Do drink your tea, Isolde, we don't want any unwanted accidents running around."

With a pointed glance at her daughter's stomach, Solandis left, leaving in her wake a world that was tipped on its axis, at least for Isolde. She could feel herself falling to pieces on the inside, her shock palpable. Aware of the expectant and watchful eyes of the two girls holding the unending swaths of her ball gown, she turned and headed towards the washroom, trying to project an aura of calm. As soon as the the door clicked shut behind her, she shattered.