The Damsel

Chapter 3

Sophie and her father arrived at the Lord Glenview’s around six that evening. Sophie was immediately rushed to her chambers to change for supper.  Sophie didn’t understand why she had to change for supper. What was wrong with the dress she was wearing? Sophie changed into a light blue ball gown (on the insistence of the maid) and headed downstairs to the dining room. Sophie was stopped at the double doors.

“Why?” Sophie asked the nearby butler.

“You must be announced Princess.” The butler told her.

Momentarily  trumpets began to sound. Then a booming voice was heard.

“Her Royal Highness Sophie Marie, Princess Royal of Caledonia and Duchess of Norwood.”

The doors opened to a large ballroom filled with many people, not at all what Sophie had been expecting. Her father had told her it would be a supper not a ball. But he wasn’t stupid; he knew that if he had shared with Sophie the real details of the event she wouldn’t have come out of their carriage.

Sophie walked slowly into the room and gazed at all of the guests, there had to be almost 200 people. She then remembered that she had to curtsy and when she did so the entire room replied with the like. Her father then approached her, took her hand, and led her down the stairs. Two men stepped forward and bowed.

The elder man spoke, “Princess, may I present to you my son, the future Lord of Glenview, John.”

John bowed and kissed Sophie’s hand, “It’s an honour to meet you Princess.”

“Likewise.” Sophie smiled her winning smile.

“May I dance with you?” John asked, still kneeling.

“Only if you promise to get of your knees when we dance.” Sophie joked. No one laughed. “Yes, Yes, It would be by pleasure to dance with you.” Sophie hadn’t managed to keep the sarcasm out of voice as John looked rather hurt. Despite this they danced two dances together.

 Sophie also danced with the son of the Duke of Kilbride, the son of the Count of Brant Hills, the son of the Lord of Pearson and the son of the Duke of Bancroft. All of them were terrible dancers. The son of the Count of Tansley asked if he may dance with her but by that time Sophie’s poor feet had been stepped on so many times that they were throbbing in pain. Sophie then found her father and asked if she may have a word with him alone. He agreed and the two went into a small room to the side of the ball room.

As soon as they were alone, Sophie exploded, “You told me that we were going to a dinner! A dinner, Papa! Why did you lie to me?”

“Sophie, we both know that you wouldn’t have even come inside the building if you had known.”

“Of course not! I am tired of being treated like a doll that you and those ridiculous men may pass around until I am married off!”

“Sophie, please quiet-”

“No, I will not be quiet; I am not getting married to any of those boring, stupid, mundane boys! None of them can even dance Papa! My poor toes are aching!”

“Sophie, I am in no way trying to force you to marry any of those boys.”

“Then what is the point of having me come to this ridiculous ball?”

“Do you really want to know Sophie?”

“Yes, Papa, do tell.”

“Because you have never spent time with anyone your own age, not girls or boys, you are always with me or you are off daydreaming and gazing off into space!”