Her Rightful Place

69: The Dancing

"Are you ready, Princess?" Neera asks Mireille as they prepare to go to the Grand Ballroom of Cloiche Fuar. The long-anticipated Midsummer's Eve Ball is finally at hand.

"As ready as I can be, I think, thanks to you and all our preparations today," Mireille replies with a sigh as she takes a final look at herself in the mirror. Her royal purple gown is beyond magnificent, perhaps the finest garment she has ever had a hand in creating; her hair is elegantly coiffed; her jewels are simple but unmistakably royal; and she has her best blades hidden in her gown. "And all of you?"

"I'm ready," Christelle says immediately. Clad in scarlet, she has never looked better.

"Always ready to serve you, Princess," Monique confirms. She has never been one to wear much color, as she hates to stand out, but tonight at Mireille's insistence she is wearing a gown of olive green that looks particularly striking with her dark skin.

"And I, too, am ready, if you are certain you want me with you. It is far above my rank to accompany you to such an event," Neera responds, though she certainly looks her part, in an elegant gown of lilac silk. She is taking Clothilde's place tonight, at Clothilde's insistence.

"You are far better with a blade than I am, and you speak Khandazarian, while I do not," Clothilde had argued. "If the Queen asks, tell her I am indisposed and that you are filling in for me. I hope the need does not arise for you to reveal these skills, but if there is a crisis, you will be more useful to the Princess than I could possibly be."

"Clothilde speaks true regarding your skills, and you look your part. Do not fret," Mireille assures Neera. "Let us be on our way. They are expecting us in the Grand Ballroom."

"Expecting you, Princess," Monique corrects.

"I do not go without you, so they are expecting us." Mireille leads the way out of her chambers, leaving no chance for further argument. They travel together as one, somehow in sync with each other even though their thoughts wander vastly different paths. Christelle is eager to see Jerôme again and dance with him, and to help Mireille and Xavier spend as much time together away from prying eyes as possible. Monique, on the other hand, is barely concealing her inner turmoil, the feelings she never expected to have for Mireille, or any woman, for that matter. It cannot be, and you know it cannot be, she scolds herself. She was right, when she said she has no power over her marriage. The best I can do is remain her friend, and protect her at any cost.

Neera, for her part, is simply hoping that she will not get in trouble for dressing as a noblewoman, and that the Midsummer's Eve Ball will not be boring.

The Chief Royal Steward meets them in the corridor as they approach the Grand Ballroom. He directs Christelle, Monique, and Neera to one of the regular doors of the room, but he personally escorts Mireille to the top of an enormous staircase.

"As the Guest of Honor, and for your debut in society, you must make a grand entrance," the Chief Royal Steward explains. Mireille blushes and steels herself for what must come. Never in her wildest dreams, when she would lose herself in fantasies to escape Agnes's abuse, could she have imagined that her life would bring her here.

"Announcing her Royal Highness, Princess Mireille of Vyrunia!" the Chief Royal Steward declares in an impossibly loud voice, effectively gaining the attention of all the hundreds of people mingling in the Grand Ballroom at the foot of the staircase, before nudging Mireille's back. The Princess takes the hint and begins a slow, majestic descent to the dance floor. Before she has taken a dozen steps, Prince Xavier has made his way to the foot of the stairs. His eyes meet hers and, for both of them, the rest of the world disappears. Mireille seems to float the rest of the way down. He bows to her when she alights on the dance floor, and she curtsies deeply in reply.