Summary:
Elizabeth arrives at a ball an hour late. She is wearing a beautiful dress and jewels, but she is not happy to be there. She is betrothed to a prince, but she does not love him. She would rather be with her friend Giles, who is a servant.Elizabeth's mother is very proud of her daughter's engagement, and she wants Elizabeth to make a good impression on the prince and his family. Elizabeth tries to smile and act like she is happy, but she can't help but feel miserable.
The prince is not very handsome or charming, and he smells bad. Elizabeth tries to avoid talking to him, but her mother keeps forcing them together.
Elizabeth is a young woman who has been raised to be a humble courtier. She is silent and demure, and she does not meet the eyes of others. This pleases lord Steel, who is courting her. He believes that her humility is a sign of her virtue.
Elizabeth's mother, Lady Sheeks, is also pleased with her daughter's behavior. She knows that Elizabeth is the only way for her to become Queen Mother. She is willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen, even if it means selling her daughter to the highest bidder.
Elizabeth is aware of her mother's plans, but she is powerless to stop them. She is forced to dance with Steel, even though she does not want to. She knows that this is just the beginning of her arranged marriage, and she is filled with dread.
The passage is set in a time when women were expected to be silent and obedient. Elizabeth is a strong-willed woman who does not want to conform to these expectations. However, she is trapped by her circumstances and is unable to fight back.
She tells him that she is only bound to him against her will and that she does not like it. Steel is unhappy with this, but he cannot do anything about it because she is so strong-willed.
Elizabeth tells Steel that he can be her friend if he forsakes her hand. This means that he would have to release her from their engagement. Steel is unappeased.
Elizabeth is disappointed, but she knows that she has no other choice than to accept her fate. She is a woman of high birth, and she has little other security to express her mind.
Steel, however, insists that he loves her and wants to spend more time with her. Elizabeth is disgusted by this and struggles to hold in her anger.
She strolled into the ballroom threshold, bringing it to an abrupt standstill. She wast an hour delayed, and unashamed. To the contrary, grateful. Brawm hadth stalled her to petition a private matter, and seizing a good opportunity, she allowed him to keep her.
The night was dry and cool, with grey clouds masking the moon and the stars like a wool blanket. 'Twas refreshing, yet a pretty pity, to wot that this place robbed the e'en the heavens of light; leaving the discarded poor...that is, the remainder of the kingdom...to blackness and absence from memory.
In betwixt the tapestries of battles and meetings with kings, there were drapes; one black and another white, which hung opposite from one another. Proud banners looped o'er the floor-to-ceiling windows, as they guarded the red cloth tables filled with golden candelabras, fruits, goblets, and steaming meats.
The polished oak floors made it so one couldst hardly tell the reflection from the floor. The beaded glass chandeliers, twenty feet high, glistened from vaulted ceilings in rows of three. They were doubled o'er from tip to tip.
At her shrunken waist, she clasped sweating hands. Her arms were adorned up to her elbows in a fine pair of matching silk gloves; finished off with se'eral bracelets of diamonds on each wrist. They perfectly masked the nerves lying ‘neath them, as much as the gala's vanity concealed the private lives of the guests.
They filled the room to the brim like new wine overflowing in golden goblets; the toast of and to Callea society. They were equal in glamour. The plumes of dark men's caps concealed their faces, while masked women boasted powdered wigs and widened skirts of ruffles and silks.
Each one whispered, glaring at her like a hunter at the buck, while they wist not of their greater importance. Still. A single hair mayest not be out of place, nor shouldst she be devoid of any pretended grace, as she careened in crystal heels. Her every move wast weighed, measured, and discussed, that it either may be either mimicked or criticized in future circulated pamphlets.
Elizabeth widened her insincere white smile, as trained to doest so from a tender age of thirteen. She shalt woo for a prize already won, but shan't wish for all the world to have. And to what end? To satisfy this pair, her mother and the prince, though it be far more pleasing to see them displeased.
Elizabeth pretended to go unnoticed, as she glided among their watchful eyes, being for herself an actress playing the role of someone of no note.
All of the guests were strangers, save for those twain whispering figures; the ones dressed to match in scarlet red damasks, amongst a sea of blue coats and frilly pastel floral dresses.
Look at them yonder in the corner, with watchful narrowed eyes: an old bat and her over-glorified prince. The cold-hearted blue blood pair were generals and allies, plotting a war to seize her heart and this spoil: a new princess and a generational boost to their pride.
Giles swooped in from behind, and her jump distracted her from woeful thinking.
He raised a glass of champagne and grinned, ignoring her fright.
She took it not, and frowned at a woeful future. O' how her mother and the dreadful prince left so little appetite in her belly.
Looking back to Giles wast little better. He reeketh of Irish cigars and century-old brandy, which wast as much his distinction as a skunk his mark.
He said, fluttering his lids as he retracted the glass, "Our lady. Thy mother seeketh for thee. Must thou make her shout? Couldst we not rather drag thee, kicking and screaming, to her presence?"
Elizabeth giggled at his jest. Inclined to match his wits, she reached out her down-turned hand.
He bent and kissed her knuckles with his forehead. They both smiled, and though nigh impossible on such a night, her heart warmed.
She said, "Let her forsake dignity, and shout. Let her expose her true nature. How oft’ she hast privily shouted, and to no shame? Might we thence respect her for the nature of being natural? O' nay. Not e'en for this. Such ist not to be done, not for as long as our hopes equal futility.”
"'Tis not our place to form an opinion, miss," Giles said. He bowed low, with a warm smile, "Even a like one. Only to obey."
They looked up to the sound of a champagne bottle popping. Voices of elation rose in the air behind them, followed by their hearty laughter. All follies and vanity, the mass of these peoples and their purposes.
Elizabeth smiled at Giles, who gave her a single nod. If protocol couldst be denied, Elizabeth wouldst hug him, and shock the eyes. She'd sooner dance in his hand, and openly proclaim their friendship to the world that forbade it.
Not so in this realm, nor life, shalt they suffer the notion. They were unequals. One above, and the other below, as the heavens from the earth. Any other way existed in fairy tales.
Giles led her by the hand, that he may delay not her suffering any longer. She steadied her eyes upon him, and a smile lingered behind her frozen pressed lips.
Elizabeth bowed to the most unworthy man in the kingdom; her esteemed betrothed. She allowed her sand-blonde hair to cascade away from her narrow shoulders, loose and virginal, like fibers unwound from the twisted ropes.
Her eyes lowered, hiding the shame for making any mark of respect.
"Lady Elizabeth," Steel said, stroking his clean-shaven chin, "Thou hast grown well. Five years agone, thou wast presented to us as a lady only in her thirteenth year."
Elizabeth longed to run, heated in the face by his hideous flirtations. She looked up at her beaming and brazen mother, and thence she looked back at the swooning prince. Their proud faces reminded her of a sealed fate; as wax on an iron scroll, from which none might save her once broken.
She said, "Yea, thy Highness. We doeth age, as much as any other. Great or poor." Poor. The world wast nigh forbidden in these circles.
"Indeed," Steel said, blinking as he cleared his throat.
She hoped that his embarrassment might lead to silence, for he was as good speechless as being not present. The latter was immeasurably preferable to the former.
An uncomfortable stance lingered amongst the trio.
A world of gaiety and laughter surrounded their interlude, seemingly oblivious to the disaster of this conversation.
Elizabeth twitched her mouth and nose. He smelled none better than Giles, nay worse, and was nothing less than reputed. Even her lack of breath couldst save her not.
Elizabeth grimaced at her mother, outside the eyes of the downcast prince, who looked to his whispering and nodding men.
She looked back at him. Elizabeth humphed in her mind. Perhaps they offered him lessons in the art of courtship.
He turned back to her, and flashed the cleanest of smiles. Such was mockery to the low-borns who only hadth his rotten foods; reduced to suffering teeth browner than their old apples, if they possessed either at all.
She raised her head, but she lowered her eyes at the floor. Ne'er existed a night whence she wast more of a slave to her burdens and ceremonies.
"Thou hast raised a humble courtier, Lady Sheeks. For, she meets not our eyes, nor so much doth she spaketh out of turn," he said.
He wooed with his sparkling eyes, which were blue like the feathers of a peacock, and equal in its vanity.
Elizabeth raised a brow. It satisfied her to think that though now he gazed with delight, he might pretend not his pleasure long.
She folded her hands in front of her, and caressed her tightening knuckles. Elizabeth wast resolved to stay silent, for peradventure it mayest cause him to forsake her. O' a sweet hope, that she might argue that his abandonment wast her fault not. She wast as she ought: a goodly and silent woman.
For the cold silence, his face turned pink, like a ripe summer peach. He folded his own hands at his loins and cleared his throat. He couldst belie'e no longer that her behavior wast for humility, couldst he? Why doth he expect aught good from her? Desist, o' man, and leave us be!
Elizabeth resisted rolling her downcast eyes. She shewed, howe'er, no fear at turning her nose at his bad smell.
Her mother saw that unmistakable twitch. Here came nigh a woman with an opinion; a threat to embarrass her and ruin years of careful intrigue.
She took a quick swig of her sweet wine from the chilled silver goblet, and stepped betwixt them. The silence wast so brutal that 'twas almost welcome that she spake.
"Mmm! We think well of her humble heart," she said, nodding, "And wherefore shouldst we not? For the lessons from her youth becometh natural virtue."
Elizabeth raised her brows once quick, and blinked. There wast no reason for her mother to think this truthful. Shame and a sham. 'Twas a light thing to sell lies, and her daughter, to the highest bidder. Wast there naught she shan't doest for this title? What remained of her withering dignity?
The kingdom wist that the Lady Sheeks failed to birth a son and heir. 'Twas a blackened spot, and nigh impossible to remove. She wast very old and a widow, and without remedy by natural means. She must become Queen Mother, and solidify her proud reputation and family line.
Steel extended an unwelcome hand. This wast not the escape from this conversation she hadth in mind.
He said, breaking the queer silence betwixt them, howe’er vain, "Our lady. Doest us the honor of this dance?"
"Nay," she thought, as she placed her gloved hand into Steel's tan leather-like palm.
She met his gaze, clashing her icy spirit to his fiery willfulness. She sighed within herself. Only one dance and mere minutes of excruciation, and thence she may depart.
He glowered at her like a new prize. Piffle and a folly. Hadth he no better pursuits? He wast nigh a king, and for a surety another lady couldst be both found and bound.
As they spun and danced in the middle of the grand ballroom, under the jealous eyes of those gasping snobbish ladies, Steel placed his hands betwixt her shoulder blades.
"Thy Highness," Elizabeth spake, as she turned her nose hither to her pits, "Might we be plain?"
"Be plain."
"Thou wot we art bound to thee against our will," she spake, "and how it pleaseth thee not that we like it not well."
Steel looked round' them with a sudden air of discomfort, as if someone might hath heard and given him cause for humiliation.
"And yet.." she spake, regaining his attention, "Thou mayest hope to find us thy friend."
A glimmer of hope blew up in his eyes...until she spake again.
"If thou wouldst forsake our hand."
There was no reaction, so that no one mayest read his mind.
How he longed for her to be at his feet, and how oft' didst she hope to deny him. She wast capable of pleasure; to submit and flatter as other ladies didst...but he couldst make no move against her. What cause hadth she to fear the man?
As a woman and of high birth, she hadth little other security to express her mind.
Steel stared down at her, appearing unmoved by her silent insult. He leaned his temple ‘aside hers.
Elizabeth's heavy lids closed and she turned further from him, like a door slammed in his face. She coughed in her throat as she tried not to breathe in the stench of his mouth. She couldst nigh taste the brandy, as though one drank after it sat for weeks soaking up cigar ashes.
Steel said, with an insistence in his tone, "What lies betwixt us-"
"Nay. Nay. Thou wot there ist naught betwixt a prince and a lady. Privacy ist forbade."
They continued waltzing as they spake, and moved in no particular direction.
The crowd formed a perfect circle ‘round them; giving them a wide berth.
"We wot thou liketh us not. But wherefore? How hath we offended thee, that thou shouldst treat me, thine own prince and future king, with such disdain?"
Elizabeth smiled with faux sympathy, as if he shouldst wot the answer.
"Doth thee not also pretend he hast entitled not himself to e'erything and anyone thou desireth? Including our person? Thy birthed position awarded thee great privilege. Honor..." Though he wast of no true honor at all. How she entreated him in vain! She continued under her breath, "But thou must forgive me, Highness. Our mouth doth not befit a woman of our standing, so we shalt silence it."
There wast no real change of mind to submit, but 'twas her desire that her silence might force his own.
Steel dipped her low, and thence raised her up to meet his challenge. Their gaze sharpened like predators, and locked like rams’ horns.
The cello, the sole instrument used, began ‘Nearer My God to Thee.’
"Doth thee, like e'eryone else, pretend to wot our heart and mind? That because we were born a prince, we couldst nary verily love thee?"
Elizabeth scoffed, for she couldst contain not her indignation at the concept. Steel Mercutio? Understand love? He couldst sooner fathom all the mysteries of women, including the depths of her own hardened heart.
She yet desired to halt their conversation, but now she couldst keep not silent. Pouring out her mind came far too natural from years of challenges with her mother; whom she despised only a little more than him.
"How doth thee love us, sire, when thou wist us not? We hath met twain times. Previous, when we were a mere child. Nay further, there wast no conversation exchanged, beyond a mere greeting and an empty compliment. Shouldst we not be nothing, inasmuch as we prefer it? "
She waited on his wit, but wist him to be wanting. Her fists, hanging behind his slender neck 'neath chestnut hair, tightened. Her nails, sharpened like spinning wheel pricks, dug deep into her palms.
Though he glowered at her like a precious jewel, e'en he couldst hide not his disdain of a woman’s boldness. His thick brows, cut fine like twain wood handles, hardened over those soft eyes and the fullness of his bottom lip twitched.
"Let us remedy that," Steel said. He raised these softening brows and formed a cunning smile, "We can share much time together thenceforth, and we shalt thence love thee e'en more."
‘Love,’ he uttereth once more. Elizabeth scoffed again, and she struggled further to hold in her disgust.
She said, with a grin to save face ere prying eyes, "Sire, we wot us not. We hath spent our life rejecting rank. No doubt thou hath heard so. Wast there any other lady in the country more envious of the peasants? How we wish we were like them, so thou wouldst neither care to wot, or love us."
If he wast as moved and offended by the boldness of this fact as her mother, Steel concealed his mind well.
Steel leaned in her ear thereupon a final twirl and he whispered, "And if we were a peasant? Make us your humble equal. We. Yeh, e'en we. For though the fact ist unseen, we verily long to be rid of ceremonies and politics, also.
The music stopped, and they didst as well.
They stood apart, silent, as the crowd roared with applause, like a crashing waterfall. Their cheers drowned out to a heaving Elizabeth, as a wide echo in the deepest black cave.
No hands clapped harder than those belonging to her upstart mother, who now reaped the highest match possible. Against all her doubts and hesitations, the night wast deemed a raving success.
Elizabeth raised her chin in a silent defiance, and with tightened lips. She warred between her inner pride and what wast expected of her outward.
She bowed low to the floor. The tulle of her skirt rustled. Her breath whispered from her flared nostrils, like a winter wind through the window cracks. Her heart pounded like a shaman’s drum. One couldst hardly help but wonder if she hadth truly heard his confession, or if ‘twas a mere imagination.
Her eyes watched his own feet; raised an inch and clad in shined brown leather that sailed up to his buttoned bow-legged knees.
Steel lowered himself to her level and cupped her hands. He leaned in close. His hot breath released from heavy nostrils and steamed between them.
He spake, "Consider our offer and give us a favorable answer in due course."
Steel looked through her blank glare, which he drew up to him like a serpent’s song. The well-guarded doors to her soul cracked at the width of a fingertip.
He smirked as he let her hands fall limp to her sides, knowing he hadth won the battle.
He rose, and thence glided away with a hand dipped at his back until he disappeared with ease into the applauding crowd.
Elizabeth’s entranced eyes wavered, though in no particular direction, at the wild scene surrounding her. His departure brought her back to the existence of the society round about. She hated their victory. His. They ought not to hath lived to see the pleasure of him gaining her interest.
If he hadth won, she dared not confirm the fact, until she confirmed him.
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