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chapter sixteen, go get your girl.
BY NOW IT SHOULD BE APPARENT THAT THE KING AND QUEEN OF FRANCE LIKED TO THROW BALLS. Yet again, the nine women were given gowns and shoes to wear for the evening, as promised. It was suffocating for the seamstresses, really. They simply couldn't keep up.
However, this ball was different; it was Aaron's birthday. He was officially 26, and for once in his life, he wasn't being portrayed as the cold prince anymore. He was happy, cheerful, even, and everyone seemed to notice the change.
Francesca slipped on her underdress, corset, undergarments, petticoat and finally: her dress. The dress had a cream colored slip that went underneath it, and a black slip to go over it. The two meshed together beautifully, the cream fabric peaking through the black fabric in the front. Along the seams were embroidered flowers and vines, some of which trialed upwards to the waist. There were gold accents all around the dress, making it elegantly beautiful. The dress was an off the shoulder look, so the maids helping Francesca applied some glitter to her collarbone.
Francesca's hair and makeup was done flawlessly in no time, her hair was curled and put up in an elegant bun, and her makeup looked almost airbrushed. She looked like a princess.
"Lady Francesca? We have some jewelry for you," the maid brings over a cart of jewels. The maid took a pair of gold earrings that had black pearls on them. A matching necklace was placed around her neck as a matching tiara was crowned on her hair.
"Where did these come from, Miss?" Francesca wondered, she had never seen such beautiful pieces in her life. Her family was wealthy, yes, but that doesn't mean she's seen all the riches of the world.
"It was a gift from the Queen, my lady," the maid said politely, bowing her head as a sign of respect for Francesca. Just as Francesca slipped on her heels she looked up, her eyes widened and her lips parted in shock. There was absolutely no way the Queen gifted her such beautiful jewels. But the young girl had no time to ponder on that as she was rushed to the ballroom by escorts.
"I present, Lady Francesca Heart!" The announcer spoke loudly, gaining the attention of all the guests. Everyone clapped and looked in awe as Francesca descended the stairs. Her heels clicked as she made her way in front of the three thrones that sat in the room, the three royal family members sat in their chairs with smiles on their faces: the King, the Queen, and the Prince. Francesca quickly curtsied, smiling at Queen Victoria, who smiled back.
With that, the festivities began. Groups of couples adorned the dance floor while awaiting bachelors and bachelorettes stood to the side. Francesca was one of the women who didn't get asked yet, many people steered clear as they knew she was the girl the Prince had personally chosen. Well, of course there was an acception.
"Hello, Lady Francesca, I've heard a lot about you. I'm Lord Watson," a young man appeared next to the young girl, his brown hair was swooped to the side and his green eyes shone with a glint that Francesca couldn't tell. It looked as if he was trying to copy the handsome Prince, who would be stupid enough to do that?
"Ah, and I've heard nothing about you," Francesca said, forgetting to use her 'manners.' She could really care less, she knew it and so did everyone else.
Her hint that she wanted to be left alone didn't go noticed, though. Watson kept pestering at Francesca all night. It gave the appearance that she was busy and didn't have time to dance, but she was in desperate need of a savoir. Of Aaron.
Across the room, King Agnar, Prince Aaron and Lord Ricky Rojas stood, talking and laughing. Although, Aaron seemed to be way too distracted to be engaged in the conversation. So, King Agnar used the only topic he knew would grab Aaron's attention:
"Well, it looks like Lady Francesca is enjoying herself," the King grinned, pointing to the girl who was acting as if she wasn't uncomfortable.
"What do you mean?" Aaron asked, looking over at his friend across the room, and what he saw, he didn't like it one bit. He saw Lord Watson far too close to Francesca, his Francesca.
"I've heard Lord Watson has plans to ask her for her hand, you know, after this whole 'Queen' thing is over with." Ricky says, informing Aaron of plans that he absolutely needed to know. Aaron couldn't help it; his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed, glaring at Watson with a fury no one had ever seen in his eyes before.
"You know, son, no matter how hard you try to hide it, we all see it," Aaron's father mumbled causing Aaron to turn to him, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"What?"
"Nothing....just go get your girl."
Aaron didn't need to be told twice, as soon as his father stopped speaking he downed his glass of wine and bolted to Francesca. His legs carried him quickly and his eyes never once left Watson's pathetic frame.
