Lair of Luxury

I | Twilight Ball

I. Twilight Ball

April 15, 1893

It was the evening I'd never expected would change the kingdom forever.

I grasped the mattress, unwilling to march past the doors of the castle. It wrinkled under the slow clench of my fists. "But, Rosalie, what if I stain our reputation because I-I made a mistake?"

"Ara, it's okay to make mistakes. You'll learn from it." Rosalie said, while lifting her gardenia scented perfume from the rosewood dresser. "When we subject ourselves to perfection, we wouldn't know our weaknesses and strengths. Mistakes can help you know yourself."

"B-but I'm nervous." I told her. There was a tight knot in my stomach, and a strong suction in my gut. I hated how I felt my innards plunge inwards into a deepening pit.

Growing up, I had never been as social as Rosalie. Every morning I'd see her skip off the Ausleya Manor, and mount the carriage destined for whatever place she wanted to go to. Here I was in the manor, confined to my own satisfactory comfort.

"That's normal. I lapse into nervousness as well, right before the grand social events that a Head of House must attend." Rosalie came over to me, and her finger met my chin, tilting it upwards.

She was older than me. And of course, the eldest had to take the mantle. Rosalie took the position after Aunt Genevieve retired. Aunt Genevieve was her mother. Luckily she grew up with a parent to coddle her. Meanwhile, I grew up without a mother or a father.

The vague memory that I had captured from when I was five was that Aunt Genevieve would occasionally sob out Ignestre. That was the name of my father, whom I never met since I was born.

In the moment, I was a 21 year-old woman who belonged to a noble status.

An unwed celibate.

Personally, I found sex rather repulsive. It was an innate gust of repugnance I couldn't explain myself.

Rosalie gazed at me, as if trying to figure out a complicated puzzle. "What?" I lifted an eyebrow.

"This overall result lacks something." She grazed her palm along the soft silky feel of viridescent fabric that felt like velvety feather tickling my flesh.

"Ah, I know just the thing," said Rosalie. Her form retreated across the room to open her jewelry box. "Emerald bijouterie." I winced, not wanting to add an accessory of attraction.

And another description that would decorate me was that I don't prefer putting on jewelry. I always felt that it wouldn't look good on me.

"Goodness. Is that your... pendant and bracelet?" I gaped at the glimmering olive green emerald.

"Of course. For renewal, and luck." Rosalie instructed me to stand up, and face my back to her so that she could properly lace the pendant around my neck. When I felt miniscule chains lodged around the skin of my neck, I turned to her as she shoved the bracelet through my outstretched hand.

"I don't think I look good in this-"

"Ara, you wear beauty like no other." She cupped my cheek. "You're unique. And don't you think that seeing the same kind of beautiful faces gets stagnant as time goes on?" Then she led me to her mirror. "We all need diverse appearances around here."

I examined myself from head to toe. I doubted whoever was in front of me. She was a different woman without sleeves, and I wanted to cover my skin. I hated flashy gowns. Behind my back, my cousin grasped my shoulders while admiring the reflection. To her, I appeared like her greatest creation. One molded in her confident hands. I saw myself as somebody else.