The Town Of Lies

The Ball

The town was cold. Dark. Quiet. The princess sat on her bed, staring up at the ceiling where painted stars were spread across it. Her father knocked on the door, forcing her to sit up. Her father had a sharp chin, jutting out with stubble atop it.
"Clara. There will be a ball tonight. I will order a nurse to help you get ready. Be sure to wear a ball gown", said the king.
"Father, it's obvious to wear a ball gown for a ball. And could you possibly ask Alice to help dress me. I like her quite a bit", said Clara.
"You will get who I order".
"Of course".
"Do you happen to know why I am hosting this ball, Clara"?
"For amusement"?
"Amusement"? The king laughed. "To find you a suitor, that's why".
"A husband? Father, I'm only seventeen".
"Your mother was seventeen".
The king walks out, leaving Clara again on her own. She laid on her bed, until she was again, not alone. Alice walked into the room, with a rose dress across her thin arm.
"You are sure to have fun at this ball, Clara", said Alice, combing through Clara's hair.
"I wish I could believe that. Now, I know that one of those young men in our house will be my husband". Clara took a piece of her own hair, and started to braid it into a small plait.
"You know, some of aren't lucky enough to even have one man in our house". Alice took back the hair, and started to unravel it.
"You're jealous, Alice, aren't you"?
"Never. I just need you to know that you're beautiful, and all those young men are dying to accompany you in marriage". She turned Clara towards the mirror to show her the hair. It was a long braid with small hairs sticking out. Alice had put flowers and ivy in Clara's hair. She handed Clara silk gloves and that beautiful dress.
"Put it on, and come back out when you're ready", said Alice.
Clara walked behind the folding screen, and Alice waited. When Clara came out, she was ready with the makeup.
"I don't want it", said Clara, pushing the makeup brush away.
"Not even a little bit of rouge? What about some lip gloss"?
"Alice, I said no. If a man falls in love with the face I painted on, and not the real me, that love is fake".
Alice nodded, and put the makeup away.
"What if I do your makeup", asked Clara.
"I couldn't. If your father were to find out-".
"Nonsense! My father has never found out about anything secretive". Clara sat Alice down on the chair, and did her makeup. "You can also wear one of my dresses"!
"I can't, Clara. I'm not even going to the ball"! Alice started wiping away the makeup.
"You just look so sad".
"Whatever could I be sad about"?
"Oh, you know. Whenever I put on a nice dress, or do my hair, you get sad. Like you envy me". Clara sat down on her bed. "But I don't think you should. Because you are brilliant and skilled, and you can live life like a normal person. I have to stay here, in the palace, following my husbands lead my entire life".
Alice said nothing.
"You don't even know how much I wish to love a man. I want a man to love me with every bit of his heart. Like Romeo and Juliet"!
"Clara! Mind your words! You know your father"!
"Like that bothers you! I've seen you reading romance novels"!
"You have ten minutes before the ball. Make sure you eat something before you arrive".
Alice grabbed her towels and walked out of the room. Once she left, Clara pulled up her bed frame, reviling a single book. On the cover read, "Romeo and Juliet". She clutched it to her chest, and looked out her window. In the distance, she saw a boy running through the palace gardens. He saw Clara, but tripped on the fountain, and fell into it. Clara laughed loud and hard, hoping he would hear.
"If I were to laugh at you for falling in a pond, I would surely be hanged for my sins", shouted the boy.
"What's your name", shouted Clara. But he was already gone. Clara put away her book, and travelled downstairs, hoping she wasn't too late for a glass of water. She was. Her father pulled her into the ball room.
"Take your pick, Clara. Anyone you want to dance with, do so", he said.
Clara looked around. Half the men in the room her older than her father himself. She looked around for the boy from the palace gardens.
"You will dance with Mr. Basilton", said the king, pushing her toward a man with a white beard and a bald head.
"I will be a great husband, if you were to choose me", said the man.
"I highly doubt that", whispered Clara. She pushed away from Mr. Basilton, making her way toward the middle of the ballroom. Another man grabbed her hands, forcing her to dance.
"I'm Mr. Calydon", said the man. "And you are beautiful for your age. You hardly look thirty at all".
"Thirty? Sir, I'm seventeen".
He quickly pulled away from Clara, and walked away. Not even seconds later, another man pulled her into a dance.
"Could you excuse me, sir", she said trying to pull away. She turned toward the man. In fact, he wasn't a man at all. But just a boy. He looked familiar.
I've been waiting to dance. I even snuck in here", said the boy.
"I know you", said Clara.
"If I told you I fell in a pond, would you know"?
"You're the boy, aren't you"? He had black hair that fell over his hazel eyes, and he reeked of muck and slime.
"I'm Louis", said the boy.
"Clara".
Louis smiled, showing his perfectly white teeth.
"Clara", he said. "I like that".
Clara heard her father calling her name, and quickly walked away from Louis.
"Where are you going", he asked.
"I have to go, Louis. But I'll be back. I promise".
"You'd better. You owe me a dance"!
Clara picked up her dress and ran to her father.
"Clara. Go and dance with Mr. Basilton. Don't leave his side until the dance is over", said the king.
"Father, I can't. I don't want to marry him".
"He is a fine suitor".
"He'll be dead in a week! God knows he's ages past his due date"!
The king snatched Clara's hand, and pulled her toward Mr. Basilton.
"One dance, Clara. That is all I'm asking. Think of the family". He let go of her hand, and shoved her toward Mr. Basilton. As they were dancing, Clara didn't take her eyes off of Louis. Every sip of that punch he drank, she watched. Every time he slid his long fingers through his hair, she watched. When the dance was over, Clara slid away from Mr. Basilton.
"It was a pleasure, my dear. May you accompany me in another dance?", he asked.
"Thank you, sir. You're very kind, but with all due respect, you must be three times my age", said Clara. She quickly ran away to find Louis. But he was gone. That one second Clara took her eyes off him, he left. Like a small bug. One moment you see it, the next, it disappears within the grass and dirt. The people were the grass, Louis was the bug, and Clara was the child. Looking for that bug. The beautiful bug that was lost. Lost in a mess of wildlife.