FIFTEEN.

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[LADY SULTAN]

Another ball of the year, Spectacular in so many ways, is not a type you would like to miss. By Old Hughes, a ball is the best option for a Prince to get his mind off a troubled princess, [SIGHS] Well, for now... Dancing! Chattering with other ladies will save him from the hook, tied up in his hands..."

[WOMEN CHUCKLING]

"We are invited to the ball, by the Hughes!" My mother squeaked.

Too many balls in one year, get me so tired of wearing dresses and dancing with so many men. Rashida giggles, she has always been a lover of attention but, balls have never been my thing.

"The seamstress will be arriving soon to deliver your dresses, my daughters, so do not get all worried about your outfits for the ball." 

My father seats by the bookshelf, meditating on the words in his papers. Seating by the window, staring at the flowers in tedium.

"Kleo! Rashida! go get dressed for we have a ball to attend." 

"KLEO!"

"KLEO! I believe you heard me do not just seat there staring at the glass, run up and get dressed" I scramble out of my thoughts, dragging my feet out of the study room to my room.

👸🏾~

Walking down the stairs, my father stare at me in awe, my mother kept a smile on her face like every lady was thought to do, and Rashida kept a straight face. 

"The carriage is ready!" 

********************************

[INDISTINCT CHATTERING]

[ORCHESTRAL MAKING]

"Your Grace!"

"How lovely to see you, Lady Dalrymple..." Charles takes the lady's hands in his, kissing them.

"My pleasure, your grace." 

After the different dances, with twelve ladies, he is still not satisfied, for none of them is like Kleopatra. His heart sinks at the thought of the princess. 

"This is my night, why am I still thinking of her." He looked around at the ladies by his side.

"Good Evening, Your Grace!" A lady in a coral white flower dress, walked up to me, her smile looked forced.

"Evening, My lady! May I have this dance?" She giggles like a child. What has got her laughing, I made no jokes and I kept a straight face. I take her to the dance floor, twirling her, like every other dancer in the hall.

"My lady, tell me your name?"

"My name?"

"Rashida Sultan, your grace. The daughter of the King of Egypt."
Now she was giving me information, I never asked for. Ladies are too forward, even at the slightest things.

"Pardon me, miss, thank you for the dance!" He said walking out of the dance, to the open air of the balcony. The fresh smell of earth filled his nose, but the sound of a person panting got his attention.

"Who is out there?" He said, walking towards the sound.

[SILENCE]

"Who is... [SIGHS]" It was a lady of petite height breathing in and out by the edge of the railings

"Sorry Miss, Why are you out here in the cold... alone?" He asked and then Kleo turned to see the man that had spoken, a man with a familiar voice. They both freeze in a spot.

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