DEMON CRY

4.

Amara did not understand why Felicia claimed that she would enjoy the party. There were too many people, and all of them were aristocrats. It was safe to say, she wasn't very fond to them. She wondered how many present were like her, orphaned and employed. Of course, she some relief knowing that servants were marching everywhere, providing the guests with drinks and food. 

The hall was a huge dome. At one end where the stairs where the hall connected with the castle while the other was from the South Wing, where the guests usually stayed. It appeared to look golden with all the lights and the shiny clothes and the polished plates. 

She stood by a pillar. In front of her, at the other end of the hall was the orchestra. Slow soothing melody was played. Chorus of voices chattering seemed like they were flowing with melody. She found it intimidating. Wanting to hide away, she pressed her back against the pillar she was standing against and took a sip of her fruit punch. It was one of the best drinks she had ever tasted. 

The First Warrior and the Supreme Sorceress had sent her the dress she was currently wearing hours before the party started. It was the grandest she had ever worn. It was a sleeveless violet silk gown. It had a deep V-neck that made her uncomfortable. She was barely breathing in that dress. She feared if she moved too much, the fabric would give away. The gems studded in the upper half scraped her arms all the time. She did not doubt that her inner arm would be red when she'd wake up tomorrow. The two powerful women had also sent some maids to help her set her hair and makeup. Her jet black hair was curled and let loose, flowing down her back. She had insisted the maids put minimal makeup, they complied without protesting which she appreciated. The silver bracelet on her left hand weighed heavy. 

The lower half of her gown gave her no trouble at all except the fact that it was very heavy. The gown was too gorgeous for her to wear, she thought. The violet fabric hung from her waist, flowing like waves. Intricate designs in a darker shade were all over. 

The silver heels she wore, weren't exactly seen, but she had to wear them. She didn't want to offend her employers though they were killing her back. She wanted to go back to her room and dip herself in the hot and scented water and let her aching body dissolve in it. 

Suddenly, the trumpet sounded. The mindless chatting vanished into thin air. All eyes were focussed on the grandly carved wooden door that connected the hall to the castle. The loudest butler announced the arrival of the Royal family. She watched the as the butler announced the names and the titles of everyone in the Royal family, at first she didn't recognize any of them. When the butler started announcing the arrival of the Third-in-Command, Lord Jeremiah and his wife, the First Warrior Felicia, she became curious to see them; then came the Second-In-Command, Lord Tyhane and his wife, the Supreme Sorceress Phoebe; The Royal Advisor, Lord Rowan. The King and Queen. They had a big smile on their faces as the hall erupted with claps. They looked extremely wealthy was the first thought that crossed her mind. The Queen wore a cream coloured gown which couldn't be compared to anyone else's gown. It was way beyond the meagre definition of 'grandeur'. The King, on the other hand, wore a dark suit whose worth was more than the Queen's dress and a dark fur coat over it. He held a golden sceptre which was so enchanting and wore a huge golden crown on his head. It looked like it was made by angels. 

Lastly, the butler announced the arrival of the Crown Prince. 

Amara had this sudden urge to straighten her back and peek over the crowd that had accumulated around the stairway. She had heard about the Prince but had never seen him. 

And there he was, invited by the thunderous claps. 

Good Lord, the rumours didn't do justice to his flawless skin, his frosty blue eyes and his wondrous physique. There were very strong muscles underneath his expensive suit. 

She wanted to see him up close. She began to wade her way through the crowd when she heard women squealing. That snapped her out of her daze. She cursed herself for thinking that way. That is the Prince, Amara! She told herself. She slid back to her pillar and helped herself with another glass of punch. This is going to be a long night, She sighed as she stayed in the shadows and sipped her punch.