Underground Royals

4

The curtains add an orange glow to the morning light which streams through them in announcement of the risen sun. It reminds me of the times that Alfred would take me to beaches in Spain and we'd spend the morning in a beach hut, watching the ocean emerge under the golden shimmer. For a fleeting moment my mind conjures the rhythmic waves, soft on the sandy shore. I reach my hand out to the fabric of the curtain, noticing how up close the light pours through the fibres, no different from how it came through the beach-hut walls.

I shift my gaze to my wardrobe where my dress is waiting for me, glimmering in the light, before leaving the safe heaven of my powder pink room for breakfast.

The dining room was picture perfect. The dark walls were speckled with gold foil and in the middle of the ceiling above the perfectly straight spruce table was a candelabra. The runner that stretched down the table, had delicate floral designs woven in silver and blue and at the end of the table were floor to ceiling windows that gave an enviable view of the lake that was completely different depending on where you sat. The polished silver cutlery, studded with blue crystals at the base, glimmered in the winter sun. At each place stood a tall empty wine glass and there were beautifully folded napkins to match the runner.

But there was only one person sitting at the table; Alfred.

As I walk in as he is diligently spreading jam over a piece of toast with a sort of childish joy; as if for a moment he is absorbed by some unknown feeling of content which manifested in his subtle smile and soft gaze. Upon noticing me, he brought it over, and beckoned me to sit. This part of breakfast - him delivering me my toast while the staff brought out the rest of the food which I scarcely touched - had become a part of the rhythm of our lives together from as long as I can remember.

"Did you sleep well?" He pried, watching curiously as I munched down the toast. I rarely ate anything so quickly. I nod, knowing that talking with a mouth full of food would not be a good start to the day.

"Good." He nods back, no longer looking at me but the air above me. "I think tonight's ball will be a long one..." I just manage to stop myself from letting out a groan and instead settle for slouching just a little bit to show my disdain. "That reminds me, Mrs Hall suggested you go over to Hall manor to get ready for the ball with Celestria?" He said, though it sounded more like a question.

"Oh perfect! And I can tell her all about Rubion!" I smiled, trying not to let on to just how excited I truly was.

"I'm sure she already knows by now Bella." He says rolling his eyes. "You know how news spreads among the houses." He mentions nonchalantly, though there is a serious undertone to it. He was right of course. Rumours were like drugs in our community, intoxicating everyone with their addictive nature. But worse were the lies, that travelled through the houses, and then through all of aristocracy until they find their way to the tabloids and there is no way to stop them. My uncle always reminds me that through perfect teeth come lots of lies, all vibrations in the air, inconsequential to the medium through which they travel, but astronomical in the devastation they can wreak when they pass under the radar.

"When will I be going over?" I ask, careful not to convey any impatience in my tone.

"Once you finish your piano I see no reason why not." He said, a small smirk on his face: a challenge. I scoff down my breakfast, hurrying to the music room, determined to finish as quickly as I could. The grand piano was moulded to the left of the room; all shiny and pitch black until I lift the fall to reveal the row of ivory keys. Along the rich wood that lines the top of each key, curling silver letters spell "Sterling". I take my seat on the matching leather bench, that my uncle had studded with gemstones for me when I was young.

There are times when it feels as though music is teaching my brain how to flow, instead of my brain making the music flow; as if the slowly changing tone touches different parts like an auditory massage for my mind. As I begin to move my fingers over the keys, music fills the air, like the waves filling holes in the beach sand in Spain; the sound rushing in and around me almost playfully, despite the heavy classical melody. I can't be sure how long I sit at the piano, repeating bars that weren't perfect and perfecting those that were. It feels like hours and minutes at the same time. At some point, Alfred walks in, leaning his frail frame against the doorframe, as he takes in the music resonating from the instrument.

"I see you're coming along nicely my dear." He murmurs in praise. "You're mother would be proud, she was quite the pianist herself." It was these little tidbits of information, hints if you will, that gave me an image of my mother. I rarely asked about my parents, especially not my mother, because my uncle would rarely answer. Instead I wait for moments like this, when he offers up an insight, and take it gratefully.

I smile up at him. "Should I be leaving now?" I ask, knowing he wasn't here to simply listen to my playing. He nods, smiling almost affectionately before leaving the room.

The Hall mansion is a physical representation of luxury, with cream white pillars surrounding a pristine fountain made of Swarovski crystals, that lead into a foyer detailed with 24 carat gold. Celestria's mother meets me not a moment after I step in. At five foot six with a face cut right out of the pages of a men's magazine, she has an air of elegance coupled with confidence.

Celestria follows her, grinning at the sight of me. She had stopped growing at five foot three inches, but what she lacked in height, she made up for in beauty. She had curly dirty blonde hair and dark taupe skin, with sharp grey eyes and defined cheekbones. If she hadn't been born into the public eye, I'm sure she still would have found her way into it with looks like hers. Despite her ethereal looks, Celest had always been different to the other aristocratic little girls my uncle had introduced me to has a child. There was nothing "princessy" about her, like the other girls, just a fierce independence and a motherliness too.

"My my Bella, you've changed!" Mrs Hall coos, wrapping me in a careful embrace, before pecking my cheek. I move to hug Celest, squeezing her tight to my body in a quick attempt to make up for all the hugs we had missed while she was away.

"Go on then! How was Greece? You must tell me all about it while we're getting ready." I smile at the both of them.

"Oh I think Celestria has something far more exciting to share with you than that!" Mrs Hall smiles knowingly, before giving us a wink and running off, presumably to get ready herself.

"And what might that be?" I giggle as Celest pulls me up flights of red velvet stairs towards her room. She shuts the door forcefully, enclosing us in her picture perfect room. The bed frame is decorated with white lace while the mattress and pillows are covered in the finest red venetian silk. I waste no time getting comfortable, lying flat on my stomach, as she frets in front of me before deciding to thrust her hand in my face. On her finger was a simple yet elegant platinum band. It had three curved strands which appeared to be woven together, almost as if they had grown that way over time, with a large diamond in the centre that glittered in the light. She slips it off and hands it to me. I turn it over in my hand, and notice on the inside, a very delicate engraving in cursive: "To Celestria soon-to-be Dalton".

"You're joking!" I cry, tackling her in a hug as we squeal in the way that only teenage girls do.

The jewellery was to signify a bond, a pre-engagement of sorts, which meant that once you came of age you would wed. Sixteen might sound like a young age to lock in a bond, which in all honesty it is, but in our society it's best to secure your partner as early as possible because there aren't many suitable choices. I slip the ring back on her finger as we both gush about its beauty and missing each other and how it all happened.

I wasn't bonded with anyone yet, though my uncle often complains to me about receiving lots of offers. Neither has Daemon, for which I find myself feeling thankful. The thought of him being bonded to someone just didn't feel right. My attention was brought back to Celestria when she began getting up.

"We should start getting ready! I'll help with your hair if you do my makeup?" She asks and I nod gratefully - makeup I could manage but hair had never been my strong suit.