The Elite ✓

eighteen | the good and the bad swan

It's been a long time since I've last updated so if you've forgotten anything, read chapter ten and twelve.

- s

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"Privileges are only given to a selected few and must not be overlooked. Arrogance is a way to deep hell. "

illéan royal etiquette booklet

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White feathers decorate my silhouette while silver traces the edges of my limbs. Everything on me feels two tonnes heavier than usual. Highlighter is spread all over my features, while plastic diamonds fall rigidly across my clavicle to my fingertips. My flexibility is put to the test as I'm fitted into the French atelier, an A La Robe inspired gown. Tonight, I am a Swan.

For modesty's sake, the dress is referred to as indescribable beauty, though I like to say otherwise.  The near-wedding dress resembled an attire for a Two. Elegant silk slips, delicate capes, intricate detailing covered every angle. If only it weren't Halloween, I'd feel a little prouder modelling the latest shade of off-white, white. But as the tiara secured to my beach waves only with bobby pins threatens to tip over, I wince painfully.  The written terminus sent on every invitation marked the beginning of tonight's celebration, though I was the only punctual.

"Your Majesty," I curtsied before America as a public show of respect, "Good Evening." 

Tonight's crowd were dressed in the most lavish costumes I had ever laid my eyes on. Though I had once anticipated Halloween as the one night for an excuse to be obnoxious, I was quickly proven wrong. One guest wore Mulberry silk, another wore the rarest of them all, Byssus. Wool wasn't out of the question either.

It seemed peculiar to me, that everyone had pulled out all their stops for such a rampant celebration, though I was quickly proven wrong. It had slowly started to become evident that tonight's crowd had seemed a lot more elegant than before. The guests tonight were different. It seemed like the Queen and King had pulled all powerful connections into their one-night hurrah.

Until I realized exactly what was happening. I grabbed Mia on her way to grab a glass of champagne. "Mia," I whispered hastily as Genevieve joined our friendly circle.

"Queen Nicoletta, Queen Daphne," I emphasized with my hands. "They're here. They really are pushing through, aren't they? Our impressions determine the ranks. The fan favourite-swap for the fourth spot. God, no."

"I figured." Mia sighs, "But I haven't found the said girl who could possibly be replacing one of us. It might've been an audience hoax."

I downed a glass, "Oh, she's here, that's for sure."

"Yeah," Genevieve notes. "Remember the carriage with tinted frames? It turned into the back entrance. I guess I just assumed it was extra security for one of the royals here, but now that I think about it, It just makes sense."

I'm more curious about this mysterious plot twist, but as soon as I spot Esteban making his own debut, I assume it's only obligatory to saunter over and demand to know exactly what he is planning. Esteban, despite striking his own deal with Lucas and me, was still a rebel. And his presence at a party filled with the most important lions in society was, in a manner, a threat.

Esteban eyes locked with mine as I began my way towards him in possibly the coolest manner I could muster. Esteban stood just before the doorway, unintentionally blocking the next person who entered. His bloodshot eyes seemed to accentuate his vampire-like impression, though I wasn't so terrified as to label it resurrection.