Daye (complete)

The Ball

    SHAKEN awake by a frantic Ann, Decide rolled out of bed, her hair a mess and her dress rumpled. The old woman began to scold her, wondering why, for the love of the Moone she was sleeping when there was a ball in a couple of hours, and ruining her dress!

"Curses," Decide mumbled sleepily, and Ann put to work fixing her hair and un-rumpling her shimmering gown.

"Out, out! You have ta go! His highness ordered you to be presented at a certain time!" Ann hissed, and pulled the sleepy huntress along, up a grand staircase and down many halls. Finally they reached a humongous door, guarded by two armed soldiers in the attire of the royal guard. They bowed at the waist as Decide approached them and she frowned. Huh. These people were really going all the way- the full royal treatment.

"Princess. You are late," one said. Decide glared at him.

Ann rushed off, every the busybody. The guards opened the doors, slowly, and ushered the girl in. She stood at the top of a curved staircase, which branched down to the left and right of her, and before her lay the entirety of the massive ballroom. It looked even more spectacular than it had earlier in the day, decorated as it was with golden sheer fabrics and tapestries depicting the royal coat of arms.

The ballroom was filled with people. Nobles and royals alike, they were all adorned with a variety of sparkling accessories and expensive, tailored suits or flashy dresses, all with an air of richness and disdain.

They had all stopped to stare as she entered the room, candlelight reflecting off her decadent dress. A man in a butler's uniform stood at attention and announced, "Please welcome Mira Maelreeve, princess of Cyule," the guards then shut the door and bade her down the stairs.

Wouldn't it be funny if I tripped, she laughed to herself.

But without any incident, she descended the gilded stairs, her footsteps echoing in the silent room. All she could hear was the clink of each heel on the polished steps, the susurration of her gown dragging along behind her, and the gentle plinking of the chain of her necklace. Her heart began to beat faster, her breathing audible. She could feel the boring stares of the people, whittling her down to nothing, picking apart her skin, judging every movement. She wasn't prepared for this. She really wasn't.

She reached the floor of the ballroom, and the music started up again, swelling to heights, and dipping, reverberating in her very bones.

The king approached her, wrapping an arm about her shoulders and proclaiming, "My daughter has finally returned home, after seventeen years! She is alive and well! Let us rejoice at her safe return, and pray nothing befall her. Let us dance, and drink to our heart's content!"

The nobles cheered, but none of them looked truly excited. The missing princess' return, just another reason to gorge themselves on exquisite food and socialize with people they cared nothing for. Another reason to drink themselves silly and brag about their exceeding wealth and show off their new trinkets...

Orlan approached, wearing a suit of gold and ivory, his crown shining, his hair swept back and styled. His green eyes shone, and he smiled as he bowed deeply to the unimpressed huntress.

"Sister," he greeted. "Looking lovely as ever. I'm so glad you decided to join us for your own ball," he chuckled.

"Can I go now?" she growled.

"Not until you dance with a few noble men," the king chided.

"I'd rather stab myself in the stomach." she hissed.

"Then why don't you?" the crown prince hissed back.

"Give me a knife and I will," she retorted.