Willingly Drowned

My hands anxiously smoothed my emerald green silk dress. I wasn’t used to wearing dresses this fancy or revealing for that matter, but my mother had insisted. According to the latest news in her society group, the son of some important official was going to be here tonight, and I needed to dress to impress. And whatever her society group said, counted as law.

So here I was, standing in shoes that pinched my feet. I’m almost positive I feel at least three blisters forming as well. My hair was pulled up in a seemingly simple bun, that took the lady mother hired, four hours and two entire cans of hairspray to put up. I was already dreading pulling it down.

From where I stood, I could see almost the whole ballroom. The white carved pillars in the corners stood tall to the ceiling where diamond chandeliers hung, casting light over the room—gold tablecloths with swirls and patterns that shimmered. But my favorite part was the walls. Dark green paint coated the walls. It was the same color as the trees are when it's foggy in the woods. My dress blended in with it, making it easier to stand back and not be seen.

Couples danced, seemingly floating on the floor as they swayed back and forth to the music. The men wore pressed suits with ties that matched their counterpart's dress. And the dresses. Most wore the in-fashion poofy dresses in an array of colors—reds, yellows, pinks, and blues. Few were wearing the same style dress I wore, although judging by their jealous expressions, I would make the guess they regretted it as they looked at those on the dance floor.

I moved my gaze towards the other side of the room, searching for my mother. As always she stood next to the other society ladies, all of them conversing about what looked like nothing, but what I knew to be gossip, gossip, and more gossip. Oh, and don't forget the gossip. If you ever needed to know about anything going on in the country, you ask one of them.

Our eyes met and her eyes told me a message she did not dare speak out loud.  Do not embarrass me. She acted like I wasn't a constant embarrassment to her. A constant burden or pressure. My chest tightened for a second and I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. Now was not the time to fall down that hole.

As the song ended and the couples dispersed, a blonde man— though he looked more like a boy— nodded goodbye to the girls draped on his arms and made his way towards me. Everything in me wanted to stay hidden in the shadows, but I knew my mother would be watching me and I wasn’t in the mood for an argument with her, so I stepped forward to meet him at the edge of the dance floor.

“Why hello there.” He said with a smirk. The way he carried himself seemed as though he knew how to play the game of getting the girl, and how to win it. And judging by the amount of girls he had had hanging on to his every word tonight, I’d say he wasn’t wrong. “My name is Warner Graham.” He said in a honeyed voice. Ah, the son I was supposed to impress. I wonder why he didn’t mention his father. “You’ve bound to have heard of my father I presume. Or at least his company. Graham and Co?” And there it is.

I nodded my head, because yes I had heard of it before. The name had regularly come out of my mother's mouth in the weeks leading up to this. I do believe I heard it more times than my name, and there was a lot of my name being screamed. “Yes, I have heard of it a few times. My name is Charis Archambeau.”

“Ah! Such a pretty name to fit the pretty lady. It’s a pleasure to meet you Charis” He took my hand and raised it to his mouth, kissing it gently, before winking at me. What, did he think I was some half-witted lady who would fall into his arms the second he paid attention to me? Well, news flash: I’m not. I gave him a small smile, not sure how to let him down without getting in trouble with my mother.

“Would you care to take the next dance with me?” He said, looking out to the floor where the couples were regathering. The band was getting ready to play again. He turned back to me, waiting expectantly for me to readily agree with him.