"1,2,3,4.....1,2,3,4....STRAIGHTEN YOUR ARMS....1,2..CHEST OUT" Madame Alarie smacks me with a ruler causing my chest to straighten.
If you're wondering who Madame Alarie is she's my ballroom teacher, Mentor, and a pain in the ass. Sorry but someone had to say it, I don't see why it's such a big deal for me to dance with some snobby guy at a ball. I'm getting ahead of myself perhaps I should catch you up. My name's Y/n Esmée Archambeau IV (the fourth for those of you that don't know) princess of l'Île du Valenveil. A small island near France, about 200 years old, you may or may not have heard of it, either way, I don't really care so...
The kingdoms pretty open-minded, we like not being as big as the USA or even Canada, that way we can just sit back and watch; not be as pooched as the other countries. I'd say we're pretty educated over here; of course, there are still small-minded people but overall we're really accepting. Anyway, my parents want me to find a husband so I can be 'as happy as they are, and always have someone' but I think I'm perfectly fine on my own. I used to be involved with Viscount Chase of l'Île de Sable but he found some pretty little blonde girl so I guess that's that. And if things couldn't get any better my date to this ball is Prince John IV of l'Archipel Implacable (Yipee a fourth, just like me how fantastic..)
Sure, he's easy on the eyes, but he's also super cocky. Always trying to flirt with me and act like I'm some piece of meat, and of course, it's just me! He never flirts with anyone else. And now I'm rambling... sorry.
"Mon Dieu, ta posture est horrible. Comment le prince va-t-il survive ὰ danser avec vous pendant plus de cinq minutes si vous marchez sur ses pieds toutes les dix secondes!" translation: My God your posture is horrendous. How is the prince going to survive dancing with you for longer than five minutes if you're stepping on his feet every ten seconds!
"Comment allez-vous garder votre travail si vous continuez ὰ agir comme si je ne puex pas vous comprendre?!" How are you going to keep your job if you continue acting like I can't understand you?! She went silent for a few minutes after that comment. The only sound filling the room was the music and the sound of my shoes and my dance partners clicking on the floor. "Ok, on a fini ici, tu peux y aller maintenant...shoo shoo" Ok, we're done here, you can go now.. shoo shoo
I quickly gathered my phone and walked down the long hall to the fitting room. Today was my final fitting before the ball tonight. My dress is a gorgeous blush pink with a floral design climbing up from the bottom.
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(Ignore the girl but look at this dress..wow)
After having some pins stabbed into my sides and gushing about the ball with the seamstress, she said my dress seems to fit perfectly she just wants to pick out the final accessories to bring it all together. I was now on my "break" and decided now would be a good time to explore the town. I put on my playlist and played positions by Ariana Grande cause that song goes hard when suddenly I bumped into someone. "Un fils de pute!(son of a b***h) Watch where you're going- oh.. y/n" I'd notice that thick French accent anywhere. "Viscount Chase.. un fils de pute is correct.." I mumbled that last part. "I didn't suspect I'd see you here." He laughed awkwardly.
