At night it's Alexander's Eyes

At night It's Alexander's eyes

Angelica stepped down from the horse drawn carriage, feeling the weight of her new ballgown. Her sisters trailed behind her. Elizabeth (Eliza), the middle child followed a few feet after, then Margarita (Peggy). Angelica's head felt heavy. Her neck barely moved as she felt the stiffness in her shoulders. The girls walked single file as they made their way to the entrance of the grand town hall building. It was a chilly winter's eve in December. Angelica inhaled the crisp cold air. It surrounded her body in a blanket of ice. Angelica embraced the cold, inviting it in. It was the only thing that allowed her to feel something. Life had not been kind to her in her all her twenty-five years of living. She was often sought after by men for her beauty but never her intelligence. Her sisters loved to gaze upon men. They made it a pass time to dream about their future husbands and children. Angelica never let their impractical dreams infect her. She knew the harsh truth about a woman's reality.

"An adult woman's power came from the influence she had over her spouse, and the influence she had over the next generation through the training of her sons," their father quoted to them many times. Philip Schuyler was a hard man to please. He was wealthy and worked as part of the New York state senate. He made sure his daughters knew their place in the world. Ever since their mother died, their father made it his sole mission to make idols of his girls. If their father did not approve of their future prospects then a marriage would not come to fruition.

Angelica brushed her father's words out of her mind as she and her sisters climbed up the marble stairs that led to town hall. Angelica hated balls, she always had. Extravagate events were put on by wealthy men for the purpose of over indulgence. Drinks would flow heavily and women would be in plenty to prey upon. Balls never benefited Angelica but if you were the daughter of a well-known senator like Philip Schuyler then you were expected to present. The same could not be said for the two trailing her heels. Every part of major events thrilled them. The gowns, the wine, the dancing. It made Angelica queasy.

"I don't know why you are always so unpleasant at these things," Peggy stated in the eldest direction. "There are so many good-looking men to dance with."

Angelica scoffed.

"Peggy, life is not about finding a good dance partner," she responded. Angelica couldn't help it. She was indeed bitter that Eliza and Peggy still found time to dream. Angelica had stopped dreaming a long time ago. Nothing brought her joy anymore. Her heart was cold and her mind was numb. The Schuyler's sisters shared the same father but each had a very different expectation. Angelica was the oldest and has always been told she had the looks to turn the face of any man. Eliza had the beauty of a delicate rose with the kindness of the world in her heart. Peggy was the youngest and the most naïve but she looked up to her two older sisters.

Angelica's father made sure to always remind her that she was carrying the family name in public and that she needed to set an example for her sisters. There was not a day that went by that she didn't feel the pressure of society weighing down on her and today she was not in the mood to deal with public political gains. She knew how tonight would go. Many young bachelors would ask for her hand in dance and she would let them because her father would expect her to. After the scoundrels would try to ask for her hand in marriage and she prayed her father would not make her throw away the only thing she had left to herself, her choice to love.

"Come now Angelica, tonight will be exciting. Anyways, at a masquerade ball you can be anyone you choose," Eliza chimed.

Masquerade? Angelica let the word stew on her mind. She didn't know how to feel. On one hand balls themselves were exhausting. On the other hand, tonight might be her one chance to escape her family name.