A Kind Of Bravery: A Mulan Retelling [1st Draft]

2. The Ball

Harriet gave one more glare to the beady-eyed man before stepping around him purposefully. She had barely gotten another step away before another man was in her way, this time, one that had an arrogant smile on his pink lips. His grin grew even wider, to the point that Harriet hoped his face might split in half, but alas it did not.

"May I have this dance, Lady Harriet, I can understand why you might not want to dance with scum such as-"

"I don't think so," Harriet cut in, causing the man to tilt his head in confusion.

"Surely, one as well-known and handsome as I-"

"I don't care if you are the King of Marenta or more handsome than all of the men in the world, I don't dance with men with more of an ego than sense," she retorted, watching as the man in front of her widened his eyes as he looked behind her.

"I suppose that means you will not be dancing with Leopold then," a voice said behind her, and Harriet spun on heel to face her brother-in-law.

"Absolutely not,"she retorted, not wanting anything to do with that man, especially not that man.

"He would be better than the rest of this lot," Frederick suggested, taking her by the elbow to try and steer her away from the men still waiting to talk to her.

"That isn't saying much," Harriet said, pulling her arm from Frederick's grip. "There is no way you could convince me to dance with that idi-"

"Harriet! He is not as bad as you clearly think," Frederick admonished, his head swiveling around to make sure no one heard his sister-in-law try and insult his best friend who was coincidentally, also a king. Harriet didn't bother to look. She wouldn't be surprised if the whole kingdom knew of her ire towards Leopold.

"Anyone who so easily takes credit for someone else's hard work is not worth associating with," Harriet said, her voice dripping with malice.

"For the last time Harriet! He was trying to keep you safe!" Frederick placed a hand to his forehead, wearily having had a similar argument with her every time Leopold was nearby, but Harriet wouldn't let it go. After all, Leopold was the man who had tried to shatter her childhood dreams, and Harriet could definitely hold a grudge.

"And he couldn't have just said that I helped him? He couldn't just share the credit? Would it kill him to say that he had help?" Harriet said, her voice rising slightly in volume, glaring at anyone who dared to look at her questionably because of her tone of voice.

"You know as well as I do that he had to act quickly. He didn't have the time to think something through so thoroughly." Harriet snorted at Frederick's reply.

"Well, it hardly matters now, does it? The deed is done."

"Precisely! That means you can dance with him!" Frederick said, a smile stretching out onto his face, making his eyes crinkle at the edges.

"No it does not mean that. I would not dance with that man if he was the last man in the world. In fact, I wouldn't go near him, even if it meant saving the world," she declared, before walking away in a huff.

She was thankful that Frederick didn't follow her, but she was more preoccupied with her grudge on the King of Marenta, so that thankfulness took a bit of a backseat. Even after seven years, the wound over not being credited with her first true heroic act, her first act for the betterment of her country, still stung.

While she had been forced to seem him and talk to him, and gods forbid, sit next to him on numerous occasions, she still didn't like the man.

Harriet, in the haze of her thoughts, noticed that there was a table of food off to the side, and so she made her way towards it. Maybe a little of the food would make the ball not be as hard to handle. Once she reached the table, she reached for the ladle of the punch bowl, meaning to grab it, but as someone knocked into her from behind her, her hand somehow landed on the rim of the bowl, and trying to steady herself, she mistakenly put her weight on it.