"All Hail, King Ector the Second of House Monrova, Ruler of Alacean and the White Sea." The crowd applauded as the King appeared on the balcony above. He paused, allowing the gathered peoples to acknowledge his regal stance and attire before he walked down the stairs. The ballroom was full of admirers eagerly waiting to use his attendance as clout among their absent friends. Three other balls had been held in the past fortnight alone, yet everybody was in attendance for Uesli's Day. It was sacrilegious, and even worse, bad luck to offend the god of the future. Much less importantly, it was a chance to swank about, boasting personal wealth: an opportunity never to be passed by.
As the crowd died down, the herald continued, "And his children: Crown Prince Tristain of House Monrova, heir to the Kingdom—" I looked over at my brother, who linked our arms. He was incredibly handsome, with shiny copper hair and a smile I had seen many swoon over. The only marring feature on his face was the jarring scar that ran from his lip to his chin, which looked almost gruesome on its worst days. Some days I found my eyes drawn to it, though. It reminded me that even my beautiful brother was not perfect. It was hard to remember that almost nothing here was real, and I took any reminder I could get that the Court of Nobles was a facade. No one was as perfect as they wanted to seem.
"And the Princess Guinevere of House Monrova." The herald left out was that I was heir to nothing except a loveless marriage to secure court alliances. Because of my status as a woman and a younger sibling, I had been cheated at birth. I was a princess with a million things in my possession, but they never belonged to me. My father owned it all, and one day everything I cared about would pass to my brother. Tristain would be a kind king, especially to me, but that didn't change the facts. The Court always left out harsh truths.
Eyes stared from every corner of the room as my family walked down the stairs. As the beloved Princess, I had to vigilantly work towards perfection in everything I did. I mentally chanted the same thing as always: Don't trip, don't trip, please don't fall down the stairs. I had a lot of practice walking in heels, but when stilettos were combined with layers upon layers of pink frill, a fall was possible for anyone at any time. I could already see the headlines: "Graceful Princess in Disgrace after Major Fall at Uesli's Ball," working title. I knew the topic of every conversation and every news article would be of my humiliation. I loved skirts, heels, and looking beautiful, but it was not the most practical ensemble.
I made it down the last stair and released my skirts with a clandestine sigh of relief. Tables were set up with more types of food than I could count: creamy soups in large ornate pots, salads garnishing the edges of the table, and a grand turkey centerpiece in the middle, dressed with a mix of sauces and herbs I could smell from across the room. I wasn't allowed to eat much, but my favorite part of Uesli's Day was looking at the gravity-defying desserts that got taller by the year. The bakers were always trying to outdo each other with rainbow cakes swirled with buttercream frosting, chocolate tarts, and stacks of truffles held up by mysterious magic.
Everything in the ballroom was embellished to perfection. No one dared disrespect one of our three Gods, arguably the most important and unpredictable of them all. The god of the future, often depicted adorned with colorful robes, a shadowy hood, and a wreath of laurels, was the only one who knew what the future held. Fate could deem our death tomorrow, and no one would know nor be able to stop it. No one had a say in when their time came, and so Uesli's Day served as a reminder that we had to do the best we could with the days we had. All we could do was pray and hope to make a difference in the world before it was too late.
I felt calmer in the presence of Uesli's soft colors that flooded the room with light and life. The ballroom had high ceilings painted with scenes and landscapes of Alacean. My favorite was a small painting in the corner of the White Ocean's waves lapping against the shore. The foam and crest of the waves looked so real I wanted to reach up and dip my fingers in. I did not see the ocean as much as a would like, but oftentimes at balls I would stare at this painting because I liked the ceiling better than the people around me.
The party was pretty to look at, but with so much magic in use, none of it felt real. Makeup framed every face and tattoos moved across planes of bare skin, lazily gliding from guests' hands to their shoulders up to their cheeks. One woman had a tiger tattoo perched on her collarbone that snarled at a bird on her neck. Another had tiny stars that glinted like sparkling freckles across her nose. I saw people dancing beyond natural skill level and hair piled higher than the cakes. My blonde hair was done up in a complex updo complete with braids and ribbons, but it was as short as I was.
"What are you looking at?" my brother asked in my ear after sneaking up behind me. I jumped, almost tripping to the ground.
I turned on him and tried to look upset, but I failed to keep a grin off my face as I crossed my arms. "Don't do that, you git! It's not polite to scare people."
"I just like seeing you squirm, Guin." He laughed, filling my heart with a warmth.
I teased him further. "You may be the Heir to the Kingdom, but you are also a pain in my behind. They all have delusions of your adequacy. You're almost as much of a hooligan as I am." I giggled, shaking my head.
"They grow fonder of me by the day, sweet sister. You're the only one who sees me as a hooligan." He straightened his jacket, which was well tailored with golden cuffs and buttons. He was well put-together and I loved that he stuck his tongue out at me anyways.
"You may have them fooled, but there will always be me. Your dear sister who you love so much," I emphasized with a laugh. "So, did you get me a gift for Uesli's Day?" I asked excitedly.
He laughed. "Uesli's Day gifts are for people who choose to be together in the future. Spouses, lovers, relationships. You're my sister, I'm stuck with you," he teased.
"I'm your sister who truly loves gifts," I pressed on.
"Fine. But pray to Uesli that you learn some humility and patience by next Future's Day." He extracted a small white box from his pocket. "I give you this gift with hopes for a future together," he recited.
"To years of insolence and boredom at parties just like this one." I took the box and opened it. It was a small jewelry box with a crank. I wound it up and a tiny ballerina spun on the top while playing a dainty lullaby. "It's so beautiful. Thank you, Tristain." I wrapped my arms around him, squeezing him tightly.
"I am glad you appreciate it." He smiled at me while hugging me back. "Where's my gift?" he teased.
"It's not with me at the moment. I don't have pockets in this dress and I don't believe it would fit anyways. I'll give it to you later."
"Okay. You had better not forget," he warned. "You can be very forgetful."
"Me? Never." I kissed his cheek. "Did you get anyone else anything for Uesli's Day? Everyone available is staring at you. Beautiful and a future king, what a prize," I teased.
He raised an eyebrow. "You know I have eyes for only one. But what of you? You are the beautiful princess, innocent but flowering into a marriageable age. I hear that people whisper rumors on the streets of your beauty. You are seventeen now, and you'll probably marry soon. Father is not a patient man."
I knew this and had accepted it long ago. I would be married to a wealthy noble to secure finances and the upper class. There was nothing I could do, but at least I would still live in my home with Tristain. I tried not to think about it too much. "But am I as beautiful as the Crown Prince? With those cheekbones, perhaps you should be the one wearing the skirts and I the crown."
He laughs again. "Perhaps. It's said that your future betrothed is here today, though. Rumor has it that it's... do you see that man over there? In the deep blue?"
I glanced over my shoulder. I saw a man around the same age as Tristain talking to two girls with faintly glowing skin. I gave him a once over, taking note of his dark brown hair and imagining his smile on blonde haired children. His brown eyes caught mine and I flushed, turning back to Tristain. "Him?" I asked. "Are you certain?"
"I would put my money on it, if I cared about money. I would bet my looks on it."
"Wow, it must be true then. There's no way you would ever part with those locks you care so much for." I stuck out my tongue at him.
"That's not very ladylike. Go talk to Lord Ralphus Falkland. You might very soon be of his house yourself. They say on Future's Day, you can make one wish and it will come true. Perhaps you should wish for kindness in him. I'll be with Peter, if you need me."
I shot him a look. "Peter must tire of you, with all the time you spend attached at the hip. You can be quite irritating."
"You're just jealous you don't get all of my time. I mean, who wouldn't love this?" He gestured at his face.
"Self-centered twit," I said, shaking my head.
"Love you too," he said as he sauntered away. I watched him go to Peter, a member of the lower nobility. Not particularly rich nor particularly affluent, Tristain's insistence was the only reason Peter was allowed at balls like this one. With his stick straight brown hair and plain face, he was the typical definition of average-looking at best. He was also a man, which brought disdain from everyone who knew their secret. But they were so madly in love, I could not bring up any of these facts. I had never seen Tristain so happy. He would find reality eventually, but that time didn't have to be now. He was only twenty. He had time.
I walked over to Lord Ralphus. He watched me walk over with a sly smile on his face. He waved away the girls he was talking to. "Why, hello," he said when I reached him. He took my hand and kissed the back of it. "You must be Princess Guinevere. You're as beautiful as the stories say."
I smiled at the obvious attempt to flatter me. "Thank you. You're very kind. Call me Guin."
"Guin. Beautiful name for a beautiful girl. I'm Ralph, if we are to go by shortened names." He was really trying to stay in my good graces.
"Nice to make your acquaintance." At this point, I was scrambling for a conversation. I had never been good at the art of words. I picked up a drink from a nearby platter and took a long sip. "So..."
"So, I hear we may be engaged," he said calmly. I spit out some of my drink when I heard those words said so bluntly. His doublet was now sprinkled with cider.
My eyes widened in embarrassment as my face tried and failed to not turn red. "I am so sorry. I already knew, I just—"
"Don't want it to be?" Ralphus paid no attention to his stained shirt. He leaned in closer to me, his dark eyes boring into me. They were soft like soil after a warm rain, but they were questioning and a little too close for comfort.
"I—um, no! Not at all, I—" Words completely failed me in that moment. My breath left me as I scrambled to find the right words.
In my inability to form complete sentences, I slowed down. I took a moment. I took a deep breath. I finally spoke up, as poised and composed as a princess should be. "That is not what I am saying. You seem kind enough, but do you ever wish you had more control over your own life? Do you ever hear a voice inside, begging you to do something, anything, just for yourself? Do you ever feel like your life isn't your own when it hinges on the decisions and the lives of others?" I stopped my rant, embarrassed at myself for going on for so long. "I apologize. That was unbecoming."
He shook his head. "No. It was very becoming. You're different, Guin. I can already tell. Don't let them brainwash you into mediocracy." He smiled and leaned closer than he already was. I stayed frozen as he kissed my cheek, right at the corner of my lip. "I'll count the moments until we meet again, Princess."
With that he walked away, disappearing into the crowd. I stood, frozen, wondering what had just happened. I had imagined meeting my betrothed a hundred times in the corners of my mind. I told myself he would be tall and handsome, witty and fun, and most importantly, unshakably kind. I didn't expect anyone to be perfect, but Ralphus was far from the worst I had met. Hopefully, we could at least be friends.
I knew the party would go on for hours, but after several more dull conversations, I was ready to leave. I looked for Tristain and Peter to say good-bye, but after walking around and being pulled into three mind-numbing conversations, I figured they would be fine without me. I took a plate, loaded it with cheesecake, tarts, and brownies, and then snuck out of the ballroom. I tried to be quiet, but my heels clacked on the floors of the silent hallway with every step, turning the head of every guard I passed. Because of my royal status, not one of them batted an eyelash at my early departure from the ball.
I stopped and leaned on a nearby wall. My stilettos were killing my poor feet, so I took them off. My feet thanked me as I walked barefoot down the cool stone floors. I started meandering down the hallways without haste. With a wave of my finger, my stilettos floated to my left and my plate of food floated to my right as I took the long way back to my room.