aurora | 1952

21

November 24th, 1952

"Oh, of course that'll be fine. Not a bother at all." I try not to sound too relieved as Florence tells me about a mix up in the dates and how some guy got pushed out of the Selection, yadda yadda. I'm just glad I only have two more dates, just enough for me to relax on Thanksgiving. Me and Florence walk by workers hanging up seasonal decorations. Just like when I was a little girl, just the thought of this time of year makes me smile. Florence gestures with her hands as she talks, but just like the various other rushed conversations I've had with her, I know that most of the things she's saying won't ever come up again, and both her and I are happiest if I just absentmindedly nod along.

I wave to Maggie as she passes us in the hall, and she gives me her brightest smile. I can't help but smile back.

"Well then, I'll leave you to prepare for your next date, Aurora! I hope he's a charmer." She turns to me and gives me a kiss on my forehead, hurrying away. She's always hurrying, and I almost never know where she's going. I step into my room, and freshen up in front of my mirror, including wiping Florences lip stain off of my forehead. 'Freshening up' was always something the preppy girls would do in my school. I would've never thought I'd be doing it myself.

~

I've got about an hour to spare before my next date, so I decide my time would be best spent digging up dirt on my faux family, as you do when you have a couple minutes. I flip through pages and put my finger down on a chapter with photos of my face in the pages. I read as quickly as I can, trying not to get squeamish at the photos of me that were never taken.

The pages list off facts about my family and my dresses, all that crap. I skip ahead, my eyes scanning over a few paragraphs.

'Aurora is known for her knack for painting and art, her works are displayed in Le Grand Musée in Newmoor, her birthplace and where she and her family currently live.'

'She is next in line to find a Suitor to lead her through life.' They make marriage sound so enticing.

I stop on a passage that catches my eye.

'Rumors tell that there is something Queen Florence and King Percy are hiding from the public about the clarity of Aurora's birth. The mix up between Percy and former King Jasper is definitely something worth researching further.'

The page then goes on to read about a trophy I supposedly won when I was 8, ignoring the bomb they just dropped. I look up at my clock, and quickly fold a corner of the page down before preparing for my date.

꧁꧂

I  sit at the grand table once again, surrounded by strangers I'm expected to know. Tonight I merely prod at my food, feeling my eyes blank as I stare at my plate, listening to the others talk. I look up from my food to see Florence looking at me, her head bowed but her eyes glued to mine. I stick
my fork into the chicken on my plate and hesitantly bring it to my mouth, forcing myself to eat when I'm far from hungry. I just can't stop thinking about my date. Not in a good way, either. The guy couldn't stop looking at my breasts, and when I told him to quit it, as politely as I could without slapping him, he stood from the table with a loud, "I've seen better anyways."

Perfect way to start wrapping up my dates.

The Queen smiles and resumes talking with her pompous acquaintances about some event on Thursday.

"What event?" I speak up, and Florence quickly shoots daggers at me with her glare before answering sweetly,

"The dance, darling. On Thanksgiving? The one we have every year. We talked about it this morning."

I feel my mouth open for a second before catching myself and eating a bite of my salad to fill the silence. "Of course, and when are we practicing for it?" What was I expecting? A quiet Thanksgiving at home? I should be used to the changes by now.

The table quiets.

Florence looks at me for the longest second before laughing, breaking the entire table into laughter. I awkwardly giggle along.

I hear Percy's voice from across the table. He isn't laughing. "You've been practicing your dances all summer, haven't you?" He asks. "The suitors sure have been working hard under the amount of time they have."

I nod along, gulping another piece of lettuce.

"And if you're nervous, don't worry, dear! You have the grace and the control down so wonderfully, it shouldn't be a fret whatsoever." Florence cuts in once again before dessert is brought out. My plate is taken by the man I met in the library, and he smells familiar as he leans over my shoulder. I look up at him with a smile and a quiet thanks.

The table surrenders back into their first-world conversations and Florence looks over to me. "I'd also like to review your list tomorrow, Aurora." She smiles and sits back in her seat, joining in with the woman next to her complaining about the grass getting drier with each day. I know what she's talking about, the list, I mean. She expects me to know who's saying goodbye to the awkward dates. And I don't.

꧁꧂
11:54 pm

Still trying to remember the last time I danced at a formal event and not at some bar, I hold a maroon-hued pen to a page I ripped from the diary in my desk. I run through my dates in my head, barely remembering names, just awfulness. I scribble down "Trevor" on the first line. Dammit. I draw thick lines over the name and rewrite "Austin." The guy who asked for money. I then write what I remember the other guys names to be. I at least remember earlier today's pervert, named Robert. I hold myself back from just writing "Aurora," and owning up to the crap I did a few weeks ago. I shake my head and decide to live. I'm at five names, halfway through. I search through the desk for a match, and light a candle that sits in front of me. I could turn on my lights, but I really don't need a drop-in from Maggie or Florence right now.

~

I check the clock as I set my pen down, looking at the names I wrote. Not a single one I regret, I just wish I had more room to eliminate. But for now, it will do. I number the names one through ten, and sack out on my bed.