Chapter 8: The Ties We Beg Not to Cut

17 4 0
                                    

It was around 16:00 when Ben finally decided that he was ready to party. He would be in his modern outfit, clean and spruced up. It was pretty easy to get into the party, but the guards wouldn't let you in if you came with your clothes tattered and your hair messy. He would call out to the girls, checking his pocket watch for the time. "Liz! Lili! You ready?" he'd say.

Liz would be helping out Lili, pulling her hair back into a fancy style; a hairstyle that she was definitely not used to. The little bobby pins felt like needles into her head, but girls her age were taught not to complain about a silly thing such as a pin. Lili wore a simple blue dress, the only thing she could find at a reasonable price for a last-minute event such as so. Even so, her dress still felt heavily tight.

"Can you please join us????" Lili would plead, looking towards Liz, who was still dressed in her painted apron, her hair tied together with a horse hair paintbrush. Reluctantly, she would shake her head in response. "One second!" she'd yell back at Ben.

Liz would finish doing Lili's hair, setting her hand down on the chair in front of her to hold her balance, as well as look into the mirror at her friend. "I told you Lil, I got work to do in the morning. Plus, I've gotta finish my work early tonight so I can make your performance." She'd smile. Lili would silently pout.

Liz would turn the mirror around so Lili could see herself. "What do you think?" she'd ask.

"I love it!" Lili exclaimed, jumping out of her chair and hugging Liz. "Thanks Liz! You're the best."

"I am not waiting for you all day." The girls would turn their attention to the doorway. Ben stood there, almost as if he were on a mission. "Right, right," Lili said in reply to Ben, drifting to the doorway herself.

Eventually, the duo made their way out the door. After a few "stay safe"'s and "have fun"'s from Liz, they were on their way.

----------------------------------

"Prince Evan, you are needed in the ballroom." The sentence flew around the room, unsure of its purpose.

As the blue boy approached the room, he could hear the faint echo of music, almost covered up by the enormous amount of noise.

"God, I hope this is something worth my time..." he muttered under his breath, unsure of what was to come next.

The doors swung open. Evan held his hands together in front of his chest, watching a sea of people, all with drinks in their hands and conversing in groups.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly walked towards the crowd, being engulfed into the mass of people. He would try to look for someone he knows, or someone that would've called him here.

Who did he know that would need him? Was it his parents? William?

Tied up in his thoughts, he came across a small woman wearing a turquoise dress. She had spike hoop earrings and her hands on her hips. Next to her was a girl with a similarly colored jumper, but she seemed more calm.

The two girls made eye contact with the prince.

"Hello?" Evan would announce, puzzled. All of the noise in the ballroom was too much. He could barely hear himself.

"Hey Prince Evan." The first girl would say. "I've been looking for you everywhere. Let me introduce myself." She would bow to him for a moment. "My name is Mya Marie of the Kingdom of Ophenneian. This is my sister, Mable." Mable would nod awkwardly. "Could you come with us? I would like to start the ballroom festivities."

-------------------------------------------------

Mya was in charge of the ballroom. She knew everyone, everything, and was the greatest party girl out there. She and Mable were hired by the royal family to help "set the scene" for this special night.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" Mya would stand on top of a table, hitting her fork on the side of her wine glass. "I am so honored to be able to share with you all this toast." She would begin.

"Tonight we celebrate our lovely Prince Evan, and his maiden!...whoever she may be..." She pauses, as the room dies down. "Let's also not forget our handsome Prince Garrett of Erohaken, for making this all possible." She would smile.

"And so it begins. Whomever wins the heart of our prince shall be named by sunrise. Let the night roar!" she yells, cueing the music.

The crowd cheers, suddenly grabbing partners to dance with.

Before he knew it, Evan was being dragged away by a small hand, one with bright lilac, long nails, and a bracelet made of sparkly gems.

Suddenly, Evan found himself dancing with a woman who looked to be a couple years older than him. She had hazel eyes and lilac lipstick to match her fishtail dress. Her hair was cut at her shoulders, and she was a beautiful brunette.

It was a common courtesy to dance with strangers. As a prince, you were expected to behave certain ways and be an honorable member of the royal family. This meant stepping out of your comfort zone—or as Evan likes to call it: 'letting nobles walk right over you.'

"My, My," Her voice was like a sharp melody on a violin. Every note articulated perfectly.

Step one, step two, step three, and spin.

"I didn't believe them when they told me how charming you were, Evan." She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his bright ocean themed ones.

The woman would smile, her pearl-white teeth escaping her lips. She would get up on her toes.

Evan would lead the girl out with his left hand, twirling her back into his arms.

"Pardon me miss," He would say ever so politely. "I don't think we have met."

At this point, she was directly across from him. She'd put her hands on his chest. She would giggle. "Princess Brooklyn, darling." She'd reply. "Of Bulibet."

She would redirect Evan's hands to her waist. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Evan could feel his face start to heat up. "Uh..." He'd rack his brain for a response, taking a good look at the girl.

A new girl would take her place, pushing Brooklyn to dance with the next man over.

"Good evening." Replacing the girl in purple was a taller woman with beautiful strands of dark hair. She wore a dark crimson dress with golden jewelry.

He would spin the girl around. "And your name might be?" He'd kiss her hand.

"Call me Abi, Princess Abigail of Nennisan." She would smile at the boy. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.

Soldier, Poet- King.Where stories live. Discover now