This is for a writing contest, I'll put the picture this story is based on to the right :)
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I took a deep breath, exhaling through my nose. Today was the day.
"Colette," Mother cooed from behind me. I turned to her with a nervous smile, and she gave me a tender hug, but not as tender as usual, since she didn't want to muss my... everything tonight. I leaned into her touch anyways, drawing comfort from her familiar rose petal perfume and plump arms.
"Go," she said simply as she pushed me towards the steward, who looked bored even in his colorful livery. He gave me one glance, and asked, "Name?"
"Nicolette de Sarrasin, daughter of Lord Albert," I said calmly, giving my skirts one last tug and trying to calm the butterflies flittering frantically in my stomach. The steward gave me a strange look, and I wondered if he saw through my mask and my ruse. I suppose it was a bit strange that I was wearing a mask to a ball, but it was necessary.
"Nicolette de Sarrasin, daughter of Lord Albert!" The steward thumped his heavy staff on the ground, yelling my alias to the bright ballroom in front of me. I entered the room, thankful that this ballroom didn't make its poor debutants descend a staircase.
I ignored the whispers of the tittering partygoers as I swept by, trying to look as natural as possible while I felt like an elephant among swans. The Duke of Normandy, the Spymaster, gave me a suspicious look. I tried not to let my eyes go wide before he turned away.
I moved towards my goal, the crown. Resting on a quintessential red, plush cushion, the almost tiara like crown waited for its new owner and the reason of the celebration. The country was about to gain a new queen, come the next day.
I turned down an offer to dance from a rather handsome man. I would've accepted, but I knew he was asking me on a dare, there was a suspicious, snickering group of men the same age standing behind me and a bit to the right.
I pretended to mingle with the lords and ladies, feeling out of place, but relying on my mask to provide a barrier. I saw Mother a couple of times, gracefully laughing and conversing with the wives of the most powerful lords. She definitely worked fast, I'll give her that. As I made my way through the herds of opulent belles, I regretted the decision I made five years ago for the hundreth time. I had been nothing, and the promises Mother offered me had seemed like everything back then. Little did I know that once you promised Mother, you could never break away again.
Focusing back on my task, I realized that I was standing before the pedestal that rose the crown loftily from the marble floor, as if the crown was a heavenly object to be separated from the mortal world. This was where the plan ended, and the improvisation began.
Using my mask as a cover once more, I discreetly observed the layout of the ballroom around the pedestal. The pedestal was in front of the slightly raised dais where the King and the new Queen sat, cold, perfect, marble faces staring into the ocean of diamond encrusted gowns and finely tailored suits. What Mother would do to have all the riches these people had.
"May I have this dance, lady?" a rich voice rang behind me and I cursed as I turned. It was the prince, the young Dauphin. He had warm chocolate eyes and obviously hard to tame blond hair, judging by the hairs that were sticking up in the back of his head.
I couldn't refuse this dance, even though I was so close to finishing my mission. I caught a fleeting glance of Mother's panicked face. I knew it wasn't worry for me. Oh, if only this prince knew how much danger he was putting me in.
"Certainly, your Majesty," I said pleasantly, giggling like any other young noblewoman would. The trivolous sound alone was enough to make me cringe. He offered his hands to me, and I delicately put my hands into his, glad for the training that had made me into a proper lady. Or, rather, the training that had taught me to fake being a proper lady.
