All of the debutantes sat at tables dispersed around the tea room, all of them looking up to find a dark haired girl enter the room and close the door behind her. Some of the ladies whispered to each other about her unkempt dark hair and her flushed cheeks as she stood before them, looking about the room for her place.
"Oh, Ariella du Montamorte? You're seated here," murmured someone from across the room.
Ariella glanced up, meeting the eyes of a young girl who looked much too young to be a debutante with her young rosie cheeks and petit body. The girl motioned her to come forth, and Ariella slowly began to work her way through the maze of tables, her hands clasped nervously behind her back. As she walked, she noticed an auburn haired lady glaring intently at her, finally noticing her to be Mademoiselle Gabrielle de Gall, Louis's unfortunate fiancée, who then continued to whisper something to a lady seated next to her.
When she finally reached the young girl, she stood awkwardly in front of the table, glancing around at all the ladies seated there, "Well, go on, sit down then," said the girl, motioning her to take a seat to the right of her.
As the butler pulled out her seat she noticed a few of the other ladies at the table whispering about something. Her cheeks flushed rouge once more as she took her seat, for the first time realizing the elegant room around her. The ceiling in itself was a masterpiece, every square inch painted into a scene of the heavens, with angels seated down to a feast. All of the tables were elegantly dressed in a white tablecloth and decorated with gold-rimmed white china, every utensil precisely placed half an inch apart from each other.
The butler who pulled out her chair had returned to pour her tea, trying not to disturb her daydreaming, "Milk, sugar?" he asked politely.
"Ah, yes," she smiled up to him, finally glancing down from the ceiling, "Thank you."
The young girl's eyes had not left Ariella the entire time she'd been seated; she seemed to be analyzing her every movement. The lady in front of her just seemed out right strange, she didn't understand Cal's obsession with her. Katerina quietly took a sip of tea, not taking her eyes off Ariella, "I am Katerina, and you of course must be Ariella," she whispered casually.
Ariella looked down at the young girl, finally noticing her beauty. The girl had a head of silky golden hair, which was set with little white flowers that led into the tiara which rested upon her head. The girl's dress was made of silk so fine it must've been imported, gold trimming and lace ruffles decorating her sleeves and bodice. She even wore a diamond necklace.
Ariella looked into the girl's chocolate eyes, "Princess," she acknowledged, gaining a few giggles from the ladies around her.
"There is no need to feel embarrassed. I did not properly introduce myself when we first greeted each other," said Katerina, watching as Ariella fiddled with her hands at her lap, "Please, feel no need to be nervous around me, I think we could become the very best of friends."
Ariella looked at her curiously, reaching up to twiddle her hair with her finger, "And why is that, your highness?"
"Call me Katerina, please," she suggested, "You seem to have caught someone I knows eye, and said person has given me such 'resources' to claim you as a friend."
Ariella stared at her confused, reaching to take a big gulp of her tea, nearly drowning herself in it as she finished off the cup, "And who might this secret benefactor be?"
"Well, I'm afraid that's classified," she whispered, reaching to her lap and bringing up a book to hide herself from the rest of the table.
Ariella looked around at the other three ladies startled, someone was inquiring about her, and she had to know who.
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~Watty's 2018 Longlist~Previously featured on Wattpad Picks~ Mademoiselle Ariella du Montamorte is the most unladylike lady that ever graced the court. She is trapped in the debutante season in the hopes of finding an unwanted match, but her reckles...