19th Century Girl

3rd January 1815

Hi everyone!

So since I've nearly finished 'A Drunken Mistake' and 'Cinderella Man' I thought it was time for me to start something new.

I had this idea a few weeks ago and I thought I would see how it would pan out as a book.

So everyone, let me know what you think! I hope you guys enjoy.

3rd January 1815

For Isabelle's 18th birthday party, the ballroom is glistening. King James has thrown the most extravagant ball in her honour, and everyone that is anyone is here tonight.

Princess Isabelle sits upon her throne, watching as the dancers twirl across the floor in the most sophisticated manner. The dancers are exquisite this evening, they have their art practised to perfection. They make her long to join them.

However, she must remain in her position, her position of royalty amongst the paupers. It is not seen as correct for her to dance among the everyday people, she must remain seated until her father organises the first royal dance.

She longs to be free like those dancing. As they twirl, spin and dip, they look free, happy. Isabelle is truly unaware of that feeling.

"Smile Isabelle, the village is watching," King James states under his breathe. Her father is exceptionally good at keeping his professional look while scolding her.

As ordered, Isabelle conjures up a smile that almost looks genuine and looks out towards her loyal subjects. The whole village seems to have arrived for the event, and they all look like they long to sit upon her throne.

However, behind their masks, she does not recognise them. Each persons identity is a mystery to her, one that she enjoys solving.

She can see from the use of pink throughout her outfit that the women standing beside the stairs is Mrs Matthews, the most desperate women within the court. She longs to climb up the social ladder, she longs to have a greater title. Unfortunately for her, her husband did not share this desire, that is why he was found dead in their country home several years ago. No one could ever prove that his death wasn't by chance.

By the main doors, she sees Mr Johnson, the owner of the dress shop in town. He makes the most beautiful gowns, including the one Isabelle is wearing this evening. Tonight, he is dressed in his formal suit, adorning a cape that reaches the floor. His mask is bright red and extravagant, much like the dress makers personality.

Then, without warning or introduction, the main ballroom doors burst open. Standing before the court and the royal family, stands a man and woman. The woman is dressed head to toe in white as if this event is her wedding day. She looks upon the court with distaste, a look that the court is throwing back at her.

The man however, is dressed from head to toe in black, as if this event is a funeral. His mask is as black as the night and yet his eyes are clear blue like a summers day in June.

Isabelle had never seen this man before, yet she is mesmerised by him. He has an air of confidence around him that any women cannot help but fall trap to his beauty. The woman beside him isn't too plain either.

Together, arm in arm, they enter the ballroom. Ladies and gentleman alike stop to stare at the beautiful and mysterious couple, but yet, no one breathes a word to them.

The man catches Isabelle's eye and she cannot control what it does to her breathing. From the smile forming upon his face, he is aware of the effect he has upon her. Stopping in the middle of floor, they turn to face each other and begin to engage in a dance that the people are not aware of. These strangers must be from another village.