Dear Elise

Chapter 7

After my few days of peace, I start to actually like the palace a lot more. Everywhere here is gorgeous, and I love the little things I can do to make me happy, like sitting on my balcony in the warm, quiet evenings.

But not this evening. Because nothing stresses me out more than being the center of attention, and here I am, about to appear on live television.
I loved this dress while I was watching it being made, and I knew it would look nice, but I didn't anticipate quite how tight it is.
Florence, as if she's reading my thoughts, smiles at me apologetically.
"Sorry, Lady Elise. But it truly does look gorgeous on you."
I glance at my reflection in the mirror, and I find that I do look relatively pretty. Still, so do all the other girls. I look pretty and basic, not beautiful and showstopping.
Still, there's no way I'd tell Florence that after she, Beatrice and Sara worked so hard on this dress.
So I smile as she moves onto twisting my hair into an elegant updo.
"Yes. I'm sure none of the other maids' creations could even compare."
That much, at least, is true. My maids really do create truly lovely designs.

But as I walk through the corridors and see all the other girls' dresses, I know that I was right. I don't stand out at all.
Well, it can't be helped.
I spot Lady Marlee as she walks past me, and smile at her.
Obviously she smiles back, though I doubt she even remembers my name... She's always been a lovely person through and through and I can't help thinking that, if I had to choose one person besides myself to win, it'd be her.
Tonight, the buttery yellow colour of her dress seems to perfectly reflect her sunny personality- alongside the warm tones of her skin and carefully braided hair, she looks like a sunny flower field personified.

My initial plan was always to find Sam as soon as possible and stick by her all evening, but that, as it turns out, is going to be slightly difficult.
As soon as I step into the studio I see her gossiping with Emmica and Tuesday- who are fairly nice, but the way they gossip so freely about everyone else makes me uncomfortable.
The idea of going up to Sam is quickly shot down by the idea of having to listen to them talk about how unflattering everyone else's dresses are, while knowing that they'll say the same things about me once I walk away. So I stand awkwardly at the edge of the room, trying my best to look aloof and dignified, while feeling utterly humiliated at being the only one with nobody to talk to.
Instead, I watch the hustle and bustle of the staff doing last minute checks, making sure everything will work smoothly once the cameras are rolling, until a maid I don't recognise comes to usher me to where the Selected girls will be sitting.
I end up sitting glumly at the back, feeling like an idiot as I watch Sam chat with the girls around her. How do she and Marlee do it? She even stood out more than me.
Her dress is a lovely shade of lavender, with accents of white lace. Her hair is pinned up with pins, which are decorated subtly with the same lace that adorns her dress, and her usual mischievous grin only nakes her seem more magnetic.
I sigh, sitting back in my chair. It's too hot in the studio, and I can feel my face start to flush slightly. I'm starting to wish my dress was made out of a lighter material.

A few minutes before the broadcast begins, there is a commotion in front of me. One of the girls- I think her name is Olivia- throws up rather loudly in front of everyone. She is put next to me at the back, and I offer her a sympathetic smile, barely able to even imagine how embarrassing that must have been for her. She smiles weakly back at me, but then Silvia is there, shushing us and reminding us to smile and sit up properly 'like ladies'.
I sigh as quietly as I can as I follow her instructions. Then the king starts to speak to the cameras.

Thankfully, we don't have to speak during today's Report. We sit through it, and then everyone starts to head down to the dining hall in a chattering crowd.
I hang slightly behind and chat quietly with poor Olivia, who everyone seems to be avoiding after the incident earlier.
She seems nice, even when a little shaken.
We end up being the last in the dining hall, and head off to our own seats. Of course, C.C., who I was sat next to on the first day, was eliminated that next morning. Though she was just one girl, C.C.'s empty seat seems like a gaping hole in the dining hall- a reminder of why we're all here. Just the thought causes my chest to tighten with nerves as I take my seat. I had hoped to talk to Sam now that we were here, but now she's talking to Zoe. I swallow nervously, wanting to join the conversation but not quite sure how, looking down at the table.
Suddenly, it feels like every movement I make is the wrong one. Am I glancing over at her too much? Should I stop listening to their conversation? What if she thinks I'm strange and doesn't want to talk to me again?

The chatter around me fades to a soft hum, punctuated occasionally by the soft clinks of cutlery on plates. The food is amazing as usual, even when slghtly restricted by my tight dress, but it doesn't matter. The food could be gruel, and I would see no difference. Left to my own thoughts, all I can feel is the terrible, all too obvious awkwardness. I eat silently, and walk away as quickly as possible once dinner is over. But the muttered words of two girls by the door almost make my heart stop.

"Hey, that's that girl who was by herself earlier, right? Elsie or something."

"Yeah, she seems so uptight. I don't know why the prince kept her here."

Their giggles feel like knives, and I freeze. Then there, standing in the middle of a corridor full of girls, it all becomes too much. Their comments, piled on top of my initial nerves, the awkwardness of dinner and having to be by myself all evening, hit hard, and I feel it.
Hot tears, pricking at my eyes.
No no no, not here, not now- not in front of everyone-
For a second I think I hear my name being called, but I ignore it. It's probably my imagination anyway. I wipe my tears as subtly as possible, choking back a sob that threatens to surface as I hurry to my room.