James could hear music playing softly in the ball room, where all the guests were gathered. He ran his hands along the length of the gig line of his suit absentmindedly, as he stared out the plate glass window out at the bay. The waves lapped against the ancient stone of Sirenchester Castle, his family’s home for generations. His lineage could be traced back to the very beginning of the Monarchy.

James had never expected to be in this position, he was the spare as it were. His older brother, Chris, was supposed to ascend the throne when their father retires, just 18 months away. While James had a higher approval rating than Chris with the people of Odristan he did not feel ready to be King. 18 months until he would be king though…since Chris was dead. Only 12 months until he would be married…12 months to the day.

He took a calming breath before placing his masquerade mask on his face, a reflective silver mask that covered half his face, like the phantom of the opera. He walked down the marbled hall, his dress shoes squeaking a little, they were brand new. Chris, would have known to break them in first. Too late for that now – he opened the door to the ball room, straightening himself to his full height before walking in.

A hush fell over the ballroom as he walked to the center of the room. He cleared his throat almost nervously but it would be hard to tell. “Thank you for coming. I look forward to meeting each and every one of you. Please, enjoy the party.” James waved his hand at the musicians and they began to play again, taking the attention off the young royal.

Alura didn't really want to go, but there was no choice. She needed to provide for you younger siblings. Even with the help of Esmee, there were still four others to look after. Hunter and Tanner weren't making it any easier either. They were just teenage boys, still wanting to muck around, and that didn't help with looking after the twin nine year olds.

Sighing, she receives help with her make up and hair, before slipping into the turquoise dress. Only a few more hours until the ball starts. When she arrives, her mask firmly plastered on her face, she feels incredibly nervous; terrified even. What if she messes up? That thought terrifies her the most. Trying to shake it off, she heads into the ballroom, aiming for a corner, so that she wouldn't have to interact with anyone. She didn't know anyone.

Eventually, the Prince emerges. "Thank you for coming. I look forward to meeting each and every one of you. Please, enjoy the party."

Who would enjoy the party? Oh, yeah. Other girls. Alura sighs, wishing she were back home, with the troublesome teenage boys, and adorable twins that were waiting for her. Hell, she wished Esmee was able to come with her, but someone had to look out for the other four, since the older boys weren't mature enough yet. "I hope you're alright, Esmee," she mumbles to herself. She watches and observes everything from the corner she stands in.

Azaria smirked as she saw her mother's face, touting obvious disdain towards her choice of dress. "But honey, wouldn't you rather wear something....more colorful? After all, you're meeting the prince." Azaria let out a soft sigh and rolled her hazel grey eyes as she sat back down and let Charlotte, the hired help, finish the last few touches to her hair. "Mother, every single girl there tonight will have on an extremely expensive...extremely elegant....extremely frilly ball gown. You know that's not my style; I'd rather stand out." Another smirk played across her lips as her mother scoffed, "Oh trust me, I'm sure you'll stand out quite a bit." The aging woman was referring to her daughter's hair, which was a pale silver grey color. It was a genetic thing, the hair color, all the women in the Bran family's hair would start to color in their early twenties. Unlike the rest, Azaria chose not to dye her hair to cover the silver grey, but rather embraced it and made it work for herself.

"Done!" Charlotte squealed with excitement as she grabbed Azaria by the hands and pulled her to her feet. Azaria grinned and spun around to see what hairstyle of choice Charlotte had decided on. She had given Charlotte free reign over her long tresses, unsure of what style would compliment her dress choice. A smile played across her full lips as she stared at herself in the mirror, smoothing down the tight, black gown over her curves as she tilted her head from side to side. "A braided halo...excellent choice. You're amazing Charlotte." It was a simple style, but it was definitely a classic too. She toyed with the strands of hair that were purposely left out to frame her face as the brunette grinned. "Now all that's left is your make up and jewelry." Azaria took that as her cue to take a seat once again, a grin gracing her face as she playfully proclaimed, "I'm all yours!" Half a hour later, she was finally ready for the ball. She made her way down the corridor and towards the foyer where her parents were waiting. She saw her mother smile softly and returned the gesture, her eyes moving to her father who was staring at her in silence, mouth agape. "You look amazing darling. When did my little princess become a woman..." His voice trailed off as he made his way towards her, kissing her forehead gently and handing her the black masquerade mask that she had chosen.

"Thank you father..." she replied as she glanced at the large grandfather clock in the corner of the room. "I guess I should get going. I'd hate to be late meeting the prince." She laughed softly as her mother smirked and grabbed her hand, squeezing it softly. "Please be on your best behavior dear. You know what's at stake here..." The smile that had been lingering on Azaria's face quickly vanished, merely nodding in silence before making her way out the door. She knew that the House of Bran wasn't the most popular one, since they were the 'new house on the block', even frowned upon by some of the other nobles. Her parents hoped that she could marry into the monarchy so that a pedigree could be obtained. That would shut down a lot of the negative buzz going around about the House of Bran. Her father wasn't too worked up over the situation to be honest, but her mother was the complete opposite. She made sure that Azaria received the best of the best to prepare her for this exact moment. Another sigh escaped her lips as she finally arrived, placing the mask on before casually making her way inside. Her stomach was in knots, not because of tonight, but because she didn't want to disappoint her parents. She'd never hear the last of it from her mother.

Her eyes scanned the room as she searched for an area that wasn't too crowded, noticing a brunette in a beautiful turquoise gown standing in the corner. She, unlike the others that were here, didn't seem too interested in being here. Azaria made her way towards the brunette as the ballroom fell quiet, stopping briefly to turn and see the prince. “Thank you for coming. I look forward to meeting each and every one of you. Please, enjoy the party.” "Hmmm..." she murmured softly, staring at him for a moment, he was quite the handsome man. As the musicians began to play, she looked back over to the brunette, continuing her path from earlier, smiling as she approached her, "You look ecstatic to be here." she joked as she reached the young woman, extending her hand. "I'm Azaria." While she normally wasn't the first to speak, she didn't know anyone here, and it appeared as if the brunette didn't either. So why not? At least then they both wouldn't look like flies on the wall.

“Are you positive there aren’t any other options? That… that I can’t just take off these heels and take off this dress? We could just pretend this never was a thing. But, that’s besides the point because I know you're not gonna budge. You know there are gonna be girls in there practically humping his leg in order to get his attention. What chance do I have in this, mom?”

Her mom appeared to be entirely ignoring her ramblings, instead choosing to continue her masterful work on Lilith’s hair. “Mi estimado, se ven bonitos.” (My dear, you look beautiful.) Her mother mumbled in their native Spanish, fingers dancing over her shoulders as she straightened the fabric. “ No importa lo que pase, serás la mujer más hermosa allí. Cualquier hombre, incluso el príncipe, sería afortunado de tenerte.” (No matter what happens, you will be the most beautiful woman there. Any man, even the prince, would be lucky to have you.)

Lilith’s lips upturned into a smile and a light sheen covered her eyes. Lilith’s first language was Spanish as well but, she had to learn English at a young age to keep up with appearances and to keep up with those surrounding her. Regardless, she still carried a noticeable Spanish lilt in her voice even though she spoke perfectly clear English.

“Gracias, mamá.” She said sincerely before clearing her throat. Wiping delicately at her eyes as to not ruin her makeup.

“Regardless… mom, I need to do this. And win. The house… you know that Figgins has been struggling. To not win this could… could mean the end. And I do not want that on my conscious for the rest of my life.”

“Calm down, baby sis. You’ll do fine. All else fails, maybe you’ll find a husband or something. I hear the kennel has a few eligible bachelors.” The low drawl of her older brother caused Lilith to immediately stand much to her mother’s disapproval. Her brother, Luke, was pretty much an exact copy of her. After all, he was only older then her by 5 minutes. But, he just loooovvveeed to rub it in.

“5 minutes, Luke. You’re older than me by 5 minutes. I should’ve just tripped you on the way out, giving myself the head start. And besides, I’m not the one with the nickname ‘Hound Dog’. It’s a miracle you haven’t caught anything yet, let’s be honest here.” Lilith drawled in the same way as her brother, taking a few steps forward.

Eyes flashing, her brother took a few more steps forward. “Hmm, that’s a funny statement coming from you. After all, you know the other world for female dog, right? Between the two of us, I think it’s pretty obvious who’s the bit-.”

“Don’t even think of finishing that sentence!” The twin siblings were practically chest-to-chest, both of them staring each other down. “Because if you do, I swear I will take this beautiful heel and shove it so far up your a-!”

Slap!

“Ow!”“Ow!”

“Silencioso.” (Quiet.)

“Sí, mamá.”“Sí, mamá.”

Sated, the mother turned Lilith to face her as the twins rubbed their arms in pain. “Ahora, usted me escucha. No importa lo que pasa, ¿me oyes? Vas a caminar allí con la cabeza bien alta y vas a ser tú mismo. No intentes ser como las otras chicas. Estás perfecta. No dejes que un príncipe convertirte en alguien diferente.” (Now, you listen to me. It doesn't matter what happens, you hear me? You're going to walk in there with your head held high and you're gonna be yourself. Don't try to be like the other girls. You are perfect. Don't let a prince turn you into someone different.)

Lilith nodded in agreement, a smile growing on her face as her mom adjusted her hair once more before giving a nod of approval and giving her her mask.

I can do this!



I can’t do this.

Perfection. All she sees is perfection. Women were… everywhere. In their fancy designer dresses (Could they, like, smell cheap/non-designer fabric/clothing? Honestly, the amount of stares she’s gotten is making her antsy.) Women with perfect hair, perfect clothes, perfect posture, perfect mannerisms (How is that girl’s face not breaking from how hard she’s smiling?), and even perfect laughs. How. Is. This. Possible?

Lilith had walked further into the party, sticking closer to the walls as she grabbed a flute of champagne from a passerby. She was hoping a little bit of liquid courage would make her feel better and hopefully calm her nerves. But then your highness himself showed up.

Why. Is. He. So. Handsome? Was there a hot-people only label that she somehow missed? She hasn’t seen one non-attractive person. It was becoming worrying at this point.

But, she did notice a few signs that the royal man himself wasn’t as confident as he put on. From the slightly anxious look in his eye to the tenseness of his body. How did she know this? Well, when you work in a bar you… notice things. Or you would need to learn things. Like, for example, when the overexcited college student was about to puke from downing too much alcohol for his first time. That’d usually be the point where she directs him to the bathroom. BUT, that’s another story. To shorten it; seeing a PRINCE be nervous during this made him seem more… human, as weird as that sounds. Maybe she could find common ground after all.

Nodding to herself, she fingered her glass as she people-watched. Now what?

Alura looks up at the girl dressed in dark colours. She looked beautiful, and it made Alura feel inadequate. "Alura," she says softly. "It's nice to meet you, Azaria." She gently brushed her hands down her dress, and briefly up to make sure her mask was still secured, before taking Azaria's extended hand.

She had felt a little panicked, when she had realised Azaria had wanted to talk to her, and a little insecure as well. What would this girl be like? Would she be snobby, or would she be nice? Would she be a good friend to make? "Were you sponsored, Azaria?" She asks, smiling warmly at the girl, as she hid her panic... or she hoped she did. This was the very first time she'd been to such a formal event, with such an expensive dress. She just hoped she didn't ruin everything. After all, she was quite clumsy.

She silently watched as the brunette smoothed down her gown and checked to see if her mask was still intact. Hmmm, I wonder if she thinks I’m being weird….am I being weird? she thought to herself, snapping out of it as the brunette took her hand. “That’s such a pretty name. What does it mean?” she asked curiously. A dark eyebrow raised in mild amusement as she heard Alura’s question, pausing for a moment as she thought about how to respond.

Should she tell the truth? Would she think that Azaria was as snobby as some of the other women here? After a soft sigh, she shook her head. “I wish I were, maybe then I wouldn’t care about the disappointment that I’m going to bring to my parents tonight.” She smiled weakly and asked the same question in return. “Are you sponsored?”

James caught his father’s eyes and groaned inwardly, his father wanted him to start making the rounds. Who to speak to first? It felt to him that all eyes were on him; but then again, that is how he always felt. The perks of being royalty. He took a flute of champagne off the polished tray of a passing server. He took large gulps but spaced them out to make it look less obvious that he was downing liquid courage as fast as he possibly could.

The music was playing but James could still hear his heart pounding in his ears. All of these women were here for him. Well, for the chance to be Queen really. They didn’t know him and had no desire to marry him other than for their own personal benefit. Was it too much to hope that he might actually fall in love with one of these women?

Finally deciding who he wanted to talk to first he headed over to the corner. “Now, why would you think that Lady Bran?” He extended his hand out to her with his most charming smile. “Pardon the intrusion, may I have this dance?”

"It means God-like adviser," she says with a slight blush. She wasn't used to compliments, and didn't really know how to take them most of the time. She was used to her siblings saying she was pretty, or that her name was really nice, but apart from them, no one has ever really complimented her, or her name...but then, she doesn't really talk to others. She tries to stay out of sight as much as possible.

"I'm sure your parents are very proud of you," she assures. "...And yes, I am sponsored..." When she notices James, her eyes widen. Her eyes move between James and Azaria, as she tries to hide further in the corner, frankly wanting to be as far away from the Crown Prince as she possibly could. She didn't understand how some girls liked the limelight. She, herself hated any form of attention, and was terrified of any attention.

Why did he have to come over here? She thinks forlornly. She was desperate to escape, not at all listening to what the Prince was saying, or even looking at him anymore. Her shoulders were slightly hunched, and her head was down, so she was looking at the ground. Her eyeshadow was more visible. She wished she could hide behind her hair.

Eva's snow-white hair was parted to one side and fell in waves down to her shoulders, just barely grazing them. She wore a navy blue dress and a matching mask. Standing off to the less crowded side of the ball room, the young woman kept to herself as she slowly sipped on a glass of white wine. Even though she was wearing a dark shade of lipstick, Eva avoided anything that could stain her teeth, especially when she would be in the presence of the prince. To be less than perfectly presentable for him was just unacceptable...or so she was told.

The moment the prince made his announcement, Eva couldn't help but grow a little bit anxious. Her pulse increased just the slightest, and she finished the wine that was left in the glass as an attempt to calm her nerves. Realizing that they both could meet at any moment, Eva hurriedly made her way over to one of the tables to drop off her empty glass before rushing to the ladies' room. Once there, she popped in a mint and made sure her lipstick wasn't smudged. It wasn't like her to act this way, but she wasn't just about to meet any man, she was about to meet The Crown Prince himself.

A few moments later, Eva emerged from the ladies' room, slowly letting out a quiet breath before walking over to the same general area she was at before. The young woman was feeling better now, maybe even a little bit confident, but she would simply watch people dance for the moment being.

"Hmm, very interesting. Mine means helped by God." she paused briefly before adding, her tone holding a hint of sarcasm to it, "I guess my parents knew that I was going to be a handful." She grinned briefly at her own joke before hearing the reassurance that Alura had given her regarding her parents. "You're far too kind...." she murmured, looking around briefly to try and find a server nearby to grab some champagne. This was going to be a long night. She quickly turned her attention back to Alura, not wanting to be rude, but also curious about the fact that she was sponsored. Before she could inquire more about her sponsorship, she heard a voice. Not just any voice, but his voice. She only knew it was the prince by Alura's sudden reaction, turning slightly to face him and confirm her suspicions.

A soft smile played across her full lips as he smiled at her; he was even more handsome up close. "But of course..." she replied politely, placing her hand into the palm of his and giving it a small squeeze. She couldn't help but glance over at Alura and smile apologetically, only to discover that the brunette wasn't even looking at either of them. She allowed the prince to lead the way so that they could begin to dance, placing her free hand on his shoulder as she felt him place his free hand on the small of her back. She felt her pale cheeks flush slightly as she recalled his question from moments ago. "I'm terribly embarrassed about you hearing me just now. You weren't supposed to hear that, you know." Hazel gray eyes met his brown pair as she gave him a playful smile, pausing for a moment before continuing her explanation. "I'm sure you're familiar with that feeling of not wanting to disappoint your parents, despite their rather ridiculous expectations that they may have of you."