A Reylo re-telling of Beauty and the Beast
In the beginning learning the curse could be broken had given him hope. Yet as he grew more reclusive that hope faded to cynicism. He snorted to himself at the memory, pushing away all of those ridiculous t...
Oops! Această imagine nu respectă Ghidul de Conținut. Pentru a continua publicarea, te rugăm să înlături imaginea sau să încarci o altă imagine.
It didn't take long for Ben's absence to gain attention, not when it came to hundreds of fathers shuttling their daughters across the galaxy with elevated expectations that their worthy descendant could share a dance with the newly crowned king. Hope lingered within the minds of the young women, continuing to grapple their optimism by a thread only to realize - as the hours passed - that the King was assuredly not returning.
Word traveled rapidly through the mouths of infuriated patricians; each beginning to notice their daughter's prolonged stance of loneliness, remaining jilted and off in a corner within the ballroom. The irritated voices of courtiers began to waver amongst the smaller groups, huddling in the gathering, leading to uncontrolled outbursts and disorderly tizzies of disappointment.
Some managed to take advantage of the inopportune situation, appearing relieved that they hadn't been married off to some unknown man by the sheer means of upholding the primeval traditions of high courts, and enjoying the momentary lapse of prolonged freedom, remaining single in marital status. Few ladies in between appeared outwardly satisfied to share a dance with the considerably handsome Commander Poe Dameron and other eligible bachelors.
The remaining supplementary numbers were all but enthused by the overall matter. Had they wanted to dance with ordinary folk, surely they would've stayed put within their home worlds, begrudgingly attending mundane galas with regular gents.
Lords and ladies alike, bearing bitter faces departed the palace's interior; unhindered from expressing their disdain, regarding the wasteful evening. Specifically, Ransolm Casterfo after watching his daughter, Mila dance with Commander Dameron. The ghastly sight launched his internal temperature to its boiling point, leading to the expression of his displeasure to Leia before abruptly departing. After all, lowly individuals like Dameron could never jolt Casterfo's name to the top of the social pyramid.
"I didn't come here to watch the privileged custom be disgraced by your son, Leia." Ransolm snarled in disgust. "I can accept my daughter being overlooked by a worthy descendant from that of another surpassing family – but a desert rat? This is blasphemy!"
Leia snorted, showing little indifference to his ordeal. "My son chose her a long time ago, Ransolm. It is not my problem to address; neither is it yours. Ben is more than capable of choosing who he deems worthy of his affection. For that, I can assure you that there will be an engagement announcement soon."
Revulsion spread across Ransolm's face at Leia's proclamation. "If you value the grandeur of your title I highly suggest you should start to control your son better, your highness." With a short huff in disbelief he stormed from the quickly diminutive gathering, resenting the humiliation of being sidelined for the evening.
Leia pursed her lips, considering her own disdain of the unwarranted suggestion. After spending many years in the political field, she acknowledged there were some words that were simply best to be left unspoken. It was nothing that a friendly glass of wine couldn't handle at the end of the day.
