Rise of the Unfavored Princess

Ch. 28: The Spring Ball

In spite of my past weeks stuck in the Rose Palace, I have not entirely forgotten the other members of my family.

Aside from the dreadful Julia, my oldest brother, Augustus, is the current crown prince and son of the former empress. He should be around 12 to 13 years old right now. When I think about the age gap between him and Clara, with Clara being close to my age right now, I grimace a little bit.

After him, is the first child of Empress Katya is Julian, whom Julia was named after so that her brother could similarly be tied to her ‘promised child’ status, according to the web. It’s him I’m worried about as I dwell on how arrogant and underhanded he was. Undoubtedly, he is someone I should watch out for.

Even though my mind is wandering as I attempt to recall every random fact about my siblings, I can’t help but admire the royal palace at night. The torches intermittently placed in the open-air corridor we are walking through shimmer against the gold-flecked marble columns. I see distant buildings with dusky blue roofs and there isn’t a soul around, making this place seem far less threatening than I’ve seen it be.

“The royal palace is so pretty!” I whisper to Marie, excited by the lovely architecture. My ex-best friend Halle, who was an architecture major, surely would’ve loved this place.

“Royal palace?” Marie says. “This is the imperial palace. Royal is for kingdoms, your highness. This is an empire.”

I feel a blush on my face and awkwardly chirp a reply. Despite all the books I’ve read, I don’t know this simple fact. Marie doesn’t take notice of my embarrassment as she kneels before me and tugged on a pair of short white gloves, an oversight on my part that she had thankfully been ready for.

“Be brave, your highness,” she whispers.

.....

I didn’t have a chance to respond before my presence was announced at the ball.

“Her Imperial Highness, Winter Hapsburg de la Erudian, has arrived!” An announcer proclaims powerfully to all the gathered guests, unknowingly mocking me for not knowing the proper title for my new living situation. It wasn’t my home, not yet.

The annual Spring Ball, a massive event meant for all prominent nobility residing within the Empire, is taking place in a massive ballroom adjacent to the main building my father resides and works in. I’ve never seen it without its many decorations, but it looks magnificent with pure white embroidery and opulent gold finishings on the walls and chairs. I feel like Cinderella arriving at the prince’s ball after spending her entire life working as a maid.

But I’m sure Cinderella, as lovely as she was in her blue gown, wasn’t stared at nearly as much as I am right now. The entrance to the ballroom is upstairs, allowing guests to descend the stairs and get seen by everyone in the room. There are ballgowns upon ballgowns and men wearing suits I’ve only seen in portraits from my textbooks. The moment is utterly surreal. I squeeze Marie’s hands tighter as every eye in the room turns my way and the conversation dims. This is what they were waiting for. Their eyes look hungry as they take in my small self and I almost cower from them.

So I stare right back. The woman closest to the base of the stares has a sneer on her face, the plumes of her feathers making me assume she thinks highly of herself. Another group of young women in overly ruffled dresses stand in a group and speak behind their gloved hands, probably gossiping about me.

This is the nobility of the Erudian Empire I’ve been dreading to meet, the ones who shamelessly bullied and ostracized Winter in the web. And they’re all so ordinary. It’s almost like high school all over again and I held my ground just fine against the mean girls from my past life. I almost puff out my chest, letting go of Marie’s hand as I grab my skirts and walk down the stairs myself. Being feeble and easily frightened didn’t win Winter any friends and ultimately led to her death.

The desire to live burns in my chest and my shaking hands holding my skirts slowly but surely stop moving. Once we reach the bottom of the descending staircase, I give a wide, dazzling smile, provoking a shocked reaction from the guests closest to me.

I’ve got my priorities straight so I head straight to the dessert table despite Mrs. Laroche clearly telling me not to eat at all and Marie begins to fill a plate for me. There were fruit-filled tarts and fluffy pastries that crunched once Marie picked them up with tongs. The sound is heaven to my ears. Since arriving at the palace, food is the only thing that hasn’t let me down.

“Your highness,” Marie hissed, disapproving of how I went for the food immediately instead of greeting the emperor as other guests had. The surprised faces at my sudden appearance gave way to scorn. I was just another peasant girl with terrible manners.

“It’s fine, Marie,” I hastily say before she can finish her sentence. If my father truly wanted to acknowledge my presence, he would have arranged for me to arrive with him, the way my two brothers standing on either side of him did. I grimace a bit, chewing at my lip as I notice the empress and my half-sister seated near them. A picture of the perfect imperial family. Without me, of course. No wonder Winter died so pitifully in the web.

I detach my emotions from the insulting scene and analyze the faces I haven’t seen yet. Although Julian is just 10 years old, he has a cocky air about him that draws many young girl’s gazes in the room but scares them from approaching him honestly. His blonde hair is reminiscent of the empress and he sweeps the room with a lazy gaze, lingering on me for a heartbeat or two before he moves on, disinterested. I’m not particularly curious about him as well, as long as he refrains from ruining my path to survival.

Augustus doesn’t possess the same aura of asshole-ness as Julian, his dark hair making him a carbon copy of my father. Now that I think of it, we both look quite alike, compared to Julian and Julia who strongly resemble their mother. Compared to the calm, cold mask on Julian’s face, Augustus is an open book. He takes a sip from an alcoholic beverage in his hand and his face wrinkles at the taste. Julian mutters something to him and his eyes glitter with mirth.

As I stare at my ‘family’, a thousand eyes watch my every move. I sigh to myself. This is a gamble I’m taking, making myself look sweet, yet somewhat stupid. It was one of the first things Mrs. Laroche grilled into me, for me not to in her words, “stuff myself like a peasant seeing food for the first time”.

Move in silence.

It is one of the best advice my mother from my past life gave me, my heart feeling a pang as I reflect on her. When you want good things to happen to you, seek them out in silence without telling others, lest others try to harm you out of jealousy or malevolence. Even though my intelligence is quite brilliant for a five-year-old girl, this is not the time for me to begin standing out in a positive light. For now, a kindhearted, naive little girl will have to be the only thing these people can see. At the very least, it will be a good cover for me to build up my own forces without anyone suspecting.

********

In the guests’ hearts, they had been prepared to throw the newly discovered bastard princess into the flames. That is the nature of those who have been raised from infancy to believe they are better than everyone else. The sight of this little princess, who had undoubtedly been raised on the streets like a beggar and whose mother was of unknown origin, grated painfully their hearts for her to become part of the illustrious imperial family they all longed to join. This child was a vibrant ray of light in the already bright hall. Her hair was as white as the rumors suggested and the flowers falling throughout the braid gave the youth an ethereal air.

The princess’s skin was quite pale too, which somehow did not appear washed out with her snowy locks. And she just looked like a doll, her small lips looking absolutely darling when stretched into an angelic smile. There was not a person in the room who did not appreciate beauty and with just one look, they had all for a minute thought in their hearts that this young girl could easily surpass her sister one day.

The nobles had desperately hoped for a timid, unspectacular girl who would bumble and fumble enough for them to viciously gossip about in their elite social circles. Watching her venture for the food table, a minor faux pas for noblewomen who preferred to seem as if they had no appetite, their malevolent smiles followed the princess diligently.

Tittering quietly behind gem-encrusted fans, the not so small number of the nobility who firmly stood behind the empress’ maternal family eagerly anticipated the slander that would run through the capital about the disgraceful new princess by the time the sun rose anew. None spared a thought that she was only 5 years old as they had long acquired the callousness that was necessary for them to retain their foothold of power. Besides as the evening drew on, there was no movement from the terrifying emperor, who sat still without sparing a glance at his bastard daughter.

“Mother, is that the bastard princess?” murmured the young Emelia Mullgard, the sole, precious daughter of Marquis Mullgard and his wife.

A family originally from the south of the Empire, they had made their fortune in the slave trade and then earned their noble rank when they aided Emperor Helio’s grandfather to the throne. As such, the family were a haughty bunch, thoroughly enjoying their influential position within the government and rarely governing their words or actions.

“Yes dear, but it isn’t good to stare for too long. What if that stray wishes to become friends with you?” Marquess Mullgard simpered gently, eyeing the bastard princess in disgust. Such a simple dress, no matter how pretty the little girl was, even a blind man would be able to tell that Princess Winter was not favored within the palace. The marquess looked down at her little daughter, pleased at her shimmery, yellow crepe gown, only topped by Princess Julia’s golden dress that highlighted the gold strands in her dirty blonde tresses.

“Be sure to speak with Princess Julia and Prince Julian before the night ends,” Marquess Mullgard mulled to her daughter, enviously looking at the bubble that surrounded the royal family. If she approached too close, she could die from the emperor’s killing aura, the thought sending a chill over her skin. Her only hope to firmly entrench herself with the royal family would be for her precious daughter to become engaged with Prince Julian and remain good friends with Princess Julia.

“Yes, mama,” Emelia diligently said, looking down her nose at the white-haired girl who had the gall to appear at such a noble function.

It hadn’t been confirmed or denied whether Princess Julia was the promised child, especially with Princess Winter potentially reprising the powerful role, but Marquis’ family had long laid her chips down with the Empress’ camp and didn’t even consider whether Princess Winter could be the one the Holy Church sought out.

The night was beginning to grow dull as the nobility within the gilded hall peered at Princess Winter curiously, waiting for her to make a gaff in manners or speech. However aside from eating once she arrived, the girl had sat obediently in a corner and greeted guests properly when a few, lower-ranking nobles in a weak attempt to curry favor introduced themselves.

Other than possessing the typical naivete of a child, a few ground their teeth at being unable to find a substantial matter to tease the bastard princess about. The chair was too high for her to sit in and the princess kicked her legs in the air occasionally, her eyes trailing around the room in wonder. A mean-spirited noble or two considered spreading a rumor that the newly discovered princess was a simpleton and possessed weak, mental function.

“Look, mama, look!” Emelia Mullgard exclaimed, tugging at her mother’s arm.

Princess Julia had left the bubble the royal family had loftily been lounging in, the fine metals on her gold dress clinking as she stomped her way across the floor, guests quickly scattering from her path. At the end of the snobbish princess’s path, a doe-eyed Princess Winter was speaking excitedly with her nursemaid lay unsuspecting of the onslaught approaching.

Bloodthirstiness glittered in the eyes of the nobles, the event they had been anticipating all night finally upon them. And behind them all, seated just outside of the emperor’s killing aura, Empress Katya watched her only daughter approach the thorn that had unceremoniously embedded itself in her life, a hint of unease pricking her chest.