Perfectly Mischievous

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Inspired by Pride and Prejudice
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....Again
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This one is a tad long so please strap yourselves in
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This is your first dress:

Balls are often the most convenient gathering for men and women alike

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Balls are often the most convenient gathering for men and women alike. This is where you'd meet acquaintances, perhaps catch up with a distant relative, dance with old friends and maybe even meet the love of your life.

Thor Odinson, the heir, now owner of Ashwood hall, took this opportunity to host one himself. He was fairly new in the area, his father, Odin rarely let them visit this property of theirs. He and his younger brother, Loki grew up in Norway, studying in international schools and often having English governesses. They are both handsome young men, talented in combat and well-versed in etiquette. Although, Loki was the smarter of the two, when Thor would go and hunt in the wild, Loki would lay in the library and drown himself in books.

All were invited to come to Ashwood hall, Thor did not mind if some guests were working classes or fellow trust fund babies like him. He merely wanted to be acquainted with as much people as possible. 

Somewhere across the lake, where you resided, excited screams of your aunt can be heard. You can only guess that this is about Sir Thor's open invitation. She looked incredibly happy while ridding the cupboards of week-old dust, she hummed to herself as she baked pie, sang the poems and sonnets of Shakespeare in her spare time. You get the gist. 

Of course, you already predicted that she would coax you into going. 

Perhaps it's a habit of middle-aged married women to play matchmaker and drag every young lady and gentleman to a ball to be married off by the end of the event. It almost seemed like a competition as to how many couples you've managed to pair. It's entertaining to an extent, that is if you're not roped into their gimmick.

That's what happened to you.

You stand there in the Sir Thor's mansion, all done up, alone, now that your aunt has left you to drink champagne with her old friends. Your being alone didn't last long since you spotted one of your friends, Georgiana. She stood there, listening to a conversation between two men and you could only guess they were talking about war or new machines, and so you took it upon yourself to save her from any more listening.

“Oh, thank you,” Georgiana dramatically sighed when you've walked far enough not to be heard. “You just saved my life.”

“You looked like you wanted to grimace so bad.” you replied, chuckling.

“For all you know I wanted to strangle them,” she said. “Why do men always talk about war and fighting? Why can't they discuss topics like poetry or art or architecture? Do they not appreciate such forms of expression and creativity?”

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