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In 1812 London, young girls of all families were trying their very best to be the utmost superior version of themselves. Some were managing better than others. Some weren't managing at all. Mamas were trying to give their daughters that extra special touch — the one that were to make the queen gasp.
"Shoulders back," Zahara Lachapelle told her eldest daughter. She had three, as well as one son. Sloane Lachapelle sighed deeply, her hands shaking with nervousness. "Do not fret, my dear. You look absolutely beautiful." She smiled greatly.
She turned to her other daughter, who was fidgeting with the feathers on her head. In an attempt to straighten them, she pulled them off of her head entirely. Defeated, she turned to her Mama. "I cannot do this, Mama." She panicked.
"Nonsense," Zahara picked up the feathers and placed them gently on top of her brown hair. "As long as you don't faint — or trip — nothing can happen." Making the last few adjustments to the feathers, Mama smiled. "There. I'm so proud of you. Both of you."
The two sisters conjoined their hands tightly. Right outside the walls a man started to speak. He announced the first lady to step into the grand hall. Once the doors opened for the first debutante, and the other debutantes could see the mass that awaited them, the panic in the room rose.
A girl in the corner almost fainted because of her nerves. Thankfully, her Mama caught her. Sloane kept her head up, Fleur saw in the corner of her eye. She wasn't confident in her entrance. Fleur hid it by looking down at her dress, playing with the golden beads. This was most likely her most expensive dress ever worn, and it showed.
A guard in the corner whispered to Zahara that they were next in line. The middle–aged woman stepped in between her daughters. The two sisters were forced to release their grip on each other's hands, but soon reconnected with their mother's. There they stood, waiting.
"Miss Sloane Lachapelle, and Miss Fleur Lachapelle, presented by their mother, the Right Honourable Lady Lachapelle." The man announced. The doors were pulled open from the opposite side. Zahara let go of both Sloane's and Fleur's hands, to let them walk in front of her. The path was too small for three.
Eyes from all sides were on the two girls. Hesitating, they stepped forward. First step first, then another, then another, and another. Fleur knew to keep her eyes straight forward. She knew she'd be off worse if she'd look anyone in the eyes.
Around her, Fleur heard gasps. Surely that couldn't be for her. She never felt ugly, but Fleur wasn't worth any gasps.
They weren't, indeed. While Fleur thought some eyes might've been on her, they were not. All eyes were on her sister. Her gracious, delicate, fair sister. Worst part about this was that she couldn't even hold it against her. Sloane was her closest friend, despite being her sister. She didn't deserve to be treated differently because of her charming looks.
A few feet before the elevation that held the queen's throne, the Lachapelles stopped and bowed. Fleur finally was able to stare at the ground and breathe. They were almost finished now. She heard shuffling before her, but did not look up.
The queen had risen from her seat. She walked down the aisle, servants holding the long ends of her dress. She reached out her hand to cup Sloane's chin. Sloane rose from her bowed state. When Fleur saw she rose, she did the same. The queen uttered a single word to her.
"Perfect."
Sloane's bright smile filled the room. Fleur heard a small giggle out of her Mama's mouth. She straightened her back, expecting the queen to come to her next. The queen did not. She gave the younger Lachapelle a glance of displeasure before returning to her throne.
Fleur's eyes sunk. Her breathing became heavier, glancing towards Sloane. Sloane hadn't noticed the glances, and was too busy unraveling the art of grace. So while one sister was deemed the diamond of the season, the other collapsed under her grand feet.
They turned back to the door. The moment was over.
The doors closed, and Zahara finally released her breath. Her back faced the two daughters.
"Did you see that, Mama?" Fleur asked her desperately. She could only wish she'd seen the glimpse of disapproval.
"I did," She replied in a neutral tone. Fleur felt seen. That was until her Mama turned around and reached for Sloane's hands. "Perfect. We'll have lines of suitors."
"I'm losing my mind," Sloane smiled brightly. She turned to Fleur. "Sister, are you not losing your mind?"
Fleur's head shot up from the word. "Yes— Yes, Sister, how wonderful." She attempted to sound as sincere as possible, which was hard for her since she felt like crying. But for Sloane, she'd be happy. She'd wait until she's in her room at night to sob.
And she was sure it wasn't going to be the last time that season.
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Really really short introduction. Every personality trait has a beginning and this is the beginning of Fleur's insecurities and jealousy towards her sister. And it breaks my heart that she only found out when everyone else acted on it. Hope you stay for chapter 2 and Fleur and Eloise's introduction!!
