THE REST of the week flew by and soon it was Saturday. I went into town with Zarola to pick out our attire for the dance later that evening. I didn’t make much money, all of it went to my family, but Zarola had lots to share. “How about this one?” Zarola said, pointing at a dress in one of the windows. It was pale yellow with little yellow roses decorating the neckline. A floral pattern decorated the skirts, cutting low to end in white satin. I grimaced. It was a little extravagant for me, but it would last me a while. Judging by the price tag on the figure it was on, we had enough Rona, and we had already gotten Zarola’s dress. “Fine,” “Good, I was getting bored.” Zarola answered. I nodded and we went inside the store. It was flooded with people, rushing in and out of the back room. We were almost pushed back by a mob of people headed out the door. I sighed, exasperated. At the same time, I wondered why there were so many people there. “They’re busy,” I whispered to Zarola after we were out of the line of fire that was the door. “Yeah,” she whispered back. “Probably because the prince is getting married next week.” I laughed at the thought. The most haughty prince in all of Kemarian history getting married? It made sense, but I still couldn’t believe it. “Who is he getting married to?” “Word on the street is the princess of Simrieg, Maeryn Pritchard.” Leave it to Zarola to be in on these things. “For the alliance?” Zarola nodded. “Now let’s get your dress.” The time of the ball had arrived. Zarola played my hand-maiden, pinning my hair up in a bun, leaving a few small strands out which she turned into loose curls. When she was done, I took a look in the mirror she had covered with her shawl before. I was stunned at the results. Zarola’s brooch was placed just below my collarbone, shaped like a pansy, colored in pale oranges and reds. My corset was tied so I could still breath easily, but my waist was still small. She kept it light on the cosmetics and had brushed a light amount of rouge on my cheeks, blending it in well. Zarola looked just as incredible. Her dark curls were tamed and styled in a crown over her head. The deep green dress she was in had been embroidered with lighter and lighter shades of green, fading into yellow the higher it got up her body. She had no cosmetics, but the natural red of her cheeks worked better. Peter came to escort us to the great hall. Dressed in a deep blue waistcoat, he looked extremely handsome. My blush deepened as he held his arm for me to take as Zarola led our party, gracefully stepping down the many flights of stairs to the great hall. We entered the great hall right as the clock struck seven. I held my breath as we entered. The cobwebs had been cleared away, and the tapestries had been taken down, replaced with blue, white and gold banners. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bert enter timidly, shaking in the shadow of a girl dressed boldly in pink and gold. I laughed at how timid he looked. When his penetrating gaze met mine, my laughter faded, but I continued to smile. He smiled back, still shaking. Bert’s gaze continued past me, landing hesitantly on Peter. He rushed to keep up with the girl he was supposed to be escorting. “May I have the first dance?” Peter asked, eyes full of laughter. I nodded, grinning, and held out my dance card. He put his name on every-other dance, courteously letting me dance with a different person the other times. We had a few more minutes of chatter before the orchestra started up. Peter and I glid to the dance floor, and started dancing. The first dance was a Five-step Waltz. Peter led me around the floor. I practically floated through the dance. I barely spoke a word, looking down to make sure I was doing the right steps every once and a while, but mainly I looked up into Peter’s eyes. They were bright, but something told me he was hiding something. Something big. Bert and I danced the second one, a Scottish Reel. For some reason, I felt more secure in his arms than I did in Peter’s, though I did have a feeling that Bert was hiding something from me too. “Where’s Braden?” I asked him near the end of the dance. “He’s… doing me a favor.” he answered bluntly, a look of fear striking his eyes. “What favor would that be?” He coughed. “Nothing of great importance,” I nodded, and promptly changed the subject. The ball went on, involuntarily ending at ten. Zarola’s beau, Braden ended up not showing up at all, leaving Zarola unable to stay.
I seriously think Hana's chapters are the shortest- Otay. HELLO EVERYONE! THANK YOU FOR READING! Oof, caps lock. I'm probably going to be fading in and out of Scratch as I'm trying to write this thing and school is taking up a lot of my time. Okay, now I'm done. How did you like this chapter? What did you not like? Otay, Imma go post the next chapter. le author, OREO
