Week 9: Gathering

 

            Years and years of etiquette training never made the Winter Gala easier. Lacey always found herself hiding in the corner, judging everyone from a distance. This year would be no different, the Queen, Lacey’s mother, would mingle in the center. Then she would go on to make a speech. And every year that speech was remained consistent, the Queen just absolutely adorned her subjects, so long as they were willing to line her coffers with their blood and sweat.

            The entrance that the Royal children made to the Gala had commenced, and Lacey had endured the boring procession into the swanked out receiving hall. She was quite pleased with her dress this year, a floor length deep blue gown, the corset adorned with jewels, her normally straight hair was tangled into an elaborate updo. A commoner would seethe in jealousy if they saw what Lacey and her siblings were wearing to this elaborate event.

            “No funny business,” the Queen snapped at Lacey as they walked into the hall, glitter was thrown everywhere. The lights were dimmed and candles had taken their place. Intricately crafted paper snowflakes hung from the ceiling. The receiving hall, usually dull and void of humanity, had transformed over night.

            “And there won’t be any if you let me stay out of sight,” Lacey snapped back. Her patience grew thinner and thinner by each day. The Royals had enough money every year to spend on these elaborate gathers, but never had enough money to provide stability for their subjects.

            The Queen could only huff angrily in response. Lacey didn’t care. She knew in the Queen’s eyes that she would never be the shining light, not when her two older brothers were standing in the way.

            And so, the formalities commenced. The nobles began to clap as they watched the Queen and her three children daintily march their way into the venue. Everyone appeared to be in awe as the Queen made her way to the front of the hall, where a lone podium stood.

            As soon as the children had been dismissed from their march, Lacey made her way to her usual spot. Not wanting to cause any trouble this early in the night.

            She observed her two brothers, Henry and Edvard mingling with certain noble ladies whose professions were deemed only appropriate “at night”. Lacey observed as Edvard made an unwanted advance towards one particular noble woman, her face contorted briefly to discomfort, only for her to flirt back.

            It took everything in Lacey’s power to not roll her eyes at that ludicrous sight.

            The Queen droned on and on about how well the Commonwealth was doing, how well the nobles were at whipping the “common folk” into shape. It took everything in Lacey’s power not to roll her eyes at the tone deaf claims of the Queen’s speech. She played with the bracelet that was wrapped securely around her wrist. Surely Lacey would be able to make her escape soon.

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