Royally Kissed | ✓

33; the world

n o t e

so sorry for the delay you guys; i was occupied with something. but here's the first part of the ball. picture of the golden knights' club are attached above so that you'd be able to remember somehow what they look like.

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[ waltz ]
the princess diaries;
the score by john debney

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—thirtythree—

the world

DAYS HAD PASSED so eventfully.

Paige's birthday was already fast approaching so pretty much everyone was up and about for the preparations. The commotion might had been exhausting, but it was pleasantly surprising how more or less a week had already flown by without her feeling like nothing but an abandoned place.

She had managed to leave the campus every single day rather emotionally unharmed. Practices were getting intensive and time was running in a swift manner.

Paige just wanted to get it all over and done with.

Albeit, the moment where she had to admit to her parents that Arthur and her were done was particularly difficult. They'd asked about how things were going for them both during one dinner, only to awoke a startling silence across the room when she'd tried to keep a neutral expression as she confessed the separation.

Save for the part of him being unfaithful, naturally.

Now, as she stepped up to a low platform where a big mirror stood in front of that, her mother and Isolde kept their eyes trained on her. They could've gone to the well-renowned fashion designer's boutique, but Isolde had none of it.

So the designer and his clique of seamstresses gathered themselves into the Wellton Estates so that they could personally attend to her inside the place where she was most comfortable. The mansion.

"...tailored to your needs. Anything you'd like to alter, the team would be glad to help," the designer himself said, his black-rimmed glasses perched atop his nose. He tipped his chin up as he studied her while she remained firm on the platform, two seamstress flourishing their hands around one of the ball gowns included in the selection, which she was fitting now.

"Where are the rest?" Isolde asked, in that stern fashion of hers, then casually leaned to the coffee table to reach for her teacup.

The man nodded to one of his assistants, and before long, two of them rolled a hanger in with a set of dresses swaying underneath.

Her mom pulled her eyebrows together. "Are we going to see the ball gown on the day of her dress rehearsal? These are simpler ones."

"Certainly, Isobel," he said, fingers crossed down his abdomen. "I assure you the designs are exactly the same as what we've discussed. Golds, whites, and dust pinks, silks, and tulle among others. We've still been doing the finishing touches for the gown she'll wear for the ball dance, but we're trying our best to make it as light as possible because the embellishments on it would add more weight to the wearer herself. What we have here are the samples for the introduction and the finalé."

Paige studied the gown she was wearing a little bit more. It was a white dress with golden, shimmering patterns all over it that smoothly fell down to her feet−it had a medieval air to it, although positively modern, with a long white cape tailing from her shoulders, the back of it with the same adornments.