Scorched

39

Finally her ceremony is here. Penelope had quite outdone herself for the decor of the ballroom that looked absolutely glamorous. She didn't listen to Cleo's wants, but did it her own way. The traditional way.

For the Elemental of Fire she used shades of orange and reds and blended them with hints of black—  evident in the thick cotton curtains that blew around from the open floor-to-ceiling windows;  looking like a tornado of red, orange and a little black swathing the busy ballroom into a sea of colour.

Then the tables that lined either side of the room were also filled to the brim with desserts, snacks and drinks. Just spotting a moon cake from where she stood made her stomach grumble reminding her that she hasn't eaten all day. And it was already nearing sunset.

She curls her bare feet beneath her long dress and rubs her stomach in circles before passing her people from the Village that has been dying to speak with her, to which she responded their questions with fake smiles; and  continued to the snacking table.

There are many many many, villagers. She didn't realize this was how many people that liked and adored her. It almost made her smile. And them coming all the way here just showed how dedicated they were and, believed in her and in this legacy that has been going on for many years. If Cleo herself were a villager, she would not give a shit about any of this and live her life freely in the Village. So this... It had to be important for them.

She swallows hard.

The women in particular looked riveting in their absurd yet magnanimous gowns, some intricately woven with so many colours and materials they could surpass as a rainbow and some just looked down strange with far too revealing dresses— with cleavage and breasts that were practically spilling out from the corset right into the open. Cleo struggled to stray her gaze away from it, no matter how disturbing they looked. She didn't know that one breast could be bigger than the other. She better check hers again.

Then there were some others that looked ten times more attractive than she did. She was a little concerned about the woman dressed as a peacock. The hat seemed overly large for her small head.

The men on the other hand... Ugh.

She did appreciate the looks she received from some of them. Who knew Village men could be handsome? She even managed a few flirtatious looks right back, causing the younger ones in particular to blush.

Then the children. Don't get her started. They are like babies that cling to you for dear life and never let go. How could you manage that on your own? The only child she liked, appreciated and would most likely take care of, would be Thane. He didn't compare to these overly dressed kids as well.

She also noticed a few sour and dissatisfied looks towards her. Cleo gave those one's her neutral face. Why come in the first place if they didn't like her? It could have made this unceasingly rambunctious room less deafening. The noise made her ears ring and buzz, just the way it did at the Demon tower.

The noise of chatter, gossiping and laughing and glass clinking drifted out through the large windows as the hot dry air wafted in blowing apart her low bun she asked the maid for, at the nape of her neck. The atmosphere was something mixed. Containing joy and excitement and also holding dread and anguish. She couldn't decide which one was the most prominent in the room, but from simply walking around the room in her barefeet certainly did its work at allowing her to feel what the environment felt like...

Drenched of emotion.

Some could be waiting for her crowning to be successful. Whilst others could be awaiting her death.

She was awaiting both.

She inhales another moon cake, relishing in it's phenomenal taste before grabbing a glass of wine from a servant that passed her by with a tray. His blue eyes glimmers so much she thinks she mistook it for a wink.