PlasticBottru
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Dance
🕑 Added 2024-10-19 02:39:19 +0000 UTC[I wanted to show y’all the next part of my writing. I will have to work a little more on it. And I will have to draw the art for it when I wake up lol. Anywhomst, I hope you like this!]
It did not work.
Edwina had hoped that the vampire would at least hold the attention of the ball goers long enough to establish connection, but she had not counted on just how unapproachable she was. Politely excusing herself from yet another man that had suddenly began throwing several hundred words at her in a single minute, Edwina retreated to the banquet table with a defeated exhale. Picking up a glass of champagne, she discreetly looked over the ball and was disappointed to see that nobody spoke to the vampire at all. Not a single person. She simply stood there, eerily still with a glass of what Edwina hoped was wine, staring off into the distance without a single speck of interest in anyone or anything around her. The disinterest was practically seeping off of her, flowing out and erecting an impenetrable wall that nobody could hope to cross.
Stifling the curse that almost erupted from her lips with a sip of the champagne, Edwina turned back to the table. No, all was not yet lost. It would be alright. Now that the vampire was here, the ceremony could begin.
The renewal of the Vows was simple enough. The current monarch of Aridonia and the representative vampire went up to the altar on which the Goblet of Egil sat, put in a drop of their blood, and recited the vow that Egil himself spoke to the king all those centuries ago. Such a simple thing, but this vow was what kept not only Aridonia, but all human kingdoms safe from a hostile world that would have eradicated them. It was an incredibly important ceremony that reaffirmed not only the vow, but Aridonia’s position as an integral kingdom that kept humanity itself alive.
And yet Maximillian had turned it into a matchmaking market, just for Edwina.
No, she would have to put away her feelings on that for now. The ceremony was finished, and the first dance would happen soon. If she did not manage to speak to someone before then, then her pool of potential allies would steadily reduce until none remained. It was why she moved with such urgency to where she had seen a familiar Earl, a man who she knew used to visit the palace often when she was young.
And yet, no sooner had she begun walking to him than the music quietened.
Edwina’s heart fell. That was the signal that the first dance’s song would begin shortly.
Why was it happening so soon? There was supposed to be a little more time! But when she happened to see Maximillian in the corner of her eye, smiling wickedly behind his wineglass as his pale yellow eyes met hers, she understood.
Instantly, Edwina was walking swiftly to the door.
The politics of a first dance was one that all women would have to play. If you were engaged, then you were safe, your partner would be your intended. But if you were single, then the first man that you chose mattered. Mattered immensely. Even the implications of declining dances were complicated. It always required great finesse to deliver a proper refusal. But her position was even more twisted. A princess whose fiancé had fled the capital, a ballroom full of men who had no doubt been promised her hand if they could prove that they were the best option to Maximilian’s profit margin. The potential that refusing could bring political harm that Maximilian could use as an excuse to further strip her of power.
The first person that asked Edwina for a dance would win. And she refused to give any of these dogs the satisfaction of winning.
And so, she saw it fit to retreat. This ball had been a success for Aridonia, but a spectacular failure for her. And she felt the bitterness rise in her chest at this fact. There would have to be an excuse. Perhaps she would say that she needed to lay down as her first social gathering was strenuous. Or maybe a sudden case of nausea from the stress of planning the event. She would have to reach out to the few allies that would remain tomorrow, salvage the situation at least somewhat so that it was not all a wasted effort, perhaps then—
Something grabbed her with enough force to break her stride.
Surely. Surely…
Whipping around with barely masked fury, Edwina came face to face with a man whose countenance she could not even bother to acknowledge. He was speaking at her, introducing himself, paying the usual lip service about her beauty, whatever. And then she could see it. His chest rising ever so proudly in preparation to speak the words that would be like acid to her face. It was why she turned away, ready to damage her reputation and shake off his arm violently if it meant leaving. But something stood in her path. Something dark. Feeling a strange shiver, she looked up, and was met with unsettling silver grey eyes.
“Would you give me the honor of having the first dance, Princess Edwina?”
A smooth, hypnotizing voice. Soft, yet entirely otherworldly. It was the vampire. Now that she stood before Erina, she could see just how terrifyingly beautiful she was. Straight dark brows, a long, elegant nose, dark black lips that did not smile. And those eyes. Those eyes that looked not at her, but into her. Peeled back her skin and muscle and bones to peer into places even Erina did not wish to acknowledge. She did not want to be Seen. She could not be Seen. Those eyes that had witnessed lifetimes, something that Edwina would never be able to comprehend. They should not lay upon her.
It was a testament, then, to just how spiteful she was of her reality, that she slipped her hand into the vampire’s pallid one despite everything in her being screaming to run the opposite way. Even though Edwina felt like she had no skin, like as if the cold air had snuck deep into her flesh and nestled in her innards, she would prefer to take the hand of this creature.
She was, after all, the very first one that had asked.
“You seem uninformed about human customs, vampire. Or do you dance with women?” The voice that spoke was Erina’s, yes. But somehow, she felt detached from it. No, she was detached from very many things at this moment. Was this how it felt to be in the presence of vampires? So bare, so…exposed? Still, she looked into the vampire’s eyes, she could not look away no matter how hard she tried. Bewitched. Had she been bewitched? The vampire’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but somehow, Edwina felt the action to be a smile. “I am well-versed in the customs of you humans. Whether I choose to abide by them is an entirely different matter.”
Ah…
Edwina lips parted then, a jolt startling her back into reality. How wonderful would it be to possess the power to declare that like as if it were fact. No, it was fact for this vampire. In the place of that deathly cold that had crawled in the crevices of her being, something else stirred. Something ugly. Something full of envy. Edwina felt her lips curl into a smile then.
“Is that so? Daring creature. Very well, the honor is yours.”
Perhaps this ball was not a waste after all.
