the princess

She laughed, just a fraction too loud, and flashed the earl a playful frown. “Those poor mamas! How shall they spend their evenings, now that you have denied them their entertainment?” she teased, shaking her head. “But I suppose I understand. It must be… overwhelming. Having to make such a momentous choice. I must admit, I find the matter a little daunting myself. Still. I do love a challenge. And you seem to have made your own choice well! Now you may reap the rewards in comfort… what could be better than that?”

Marina’s eyes went wide, and she could not stop a soft, “Oh!” from slipping from between her lips as the realization blossomed.

She could only just have been called a young woman at the time, but the memory still burned in her mind’s eye, clear as starlight. She could almost feel the book in her lap, the heat of the candle on the desk as she sat in the Royal Library late into the night, as the servants door flew open and the young man — drunk, clearly — came tumbling in through the hidden passage, begged her not to scream.

Marina studied Richard’s face, feeling the heat rise unexpectedly in her cheeks, a slow, secretive smile pulling at the corner of her lips. He was older now — as she must seem too — though not much. He’d lost some of that boyish effervescence that had charmed her enough, even in her terror and his drunken state, to hold her silence. In its place was a sort of… surety. Still charming, but now almost aloof — beyond the reach of the Ton. The princess quickly composed her expression, though her gaze still held just a touch of amusement.

“Yes, I remember now,” she replied smoothly, “You’d come at the behest of a friend, and you were gracious enough to stop and speak with me. I didn’t think to see you again… I’m certainly glad to see you doing so well.”

-

A princess speaking almost candidly, teasing those marriage minded mamas would surely have made excellent gossip for Whisledown. It was almost as if Whistledown was a nagging little thought that was constantly at the back of Richard’s mind. “Oh I’m sure they’ll find comfort in either the gossip of the night or who will be this year’s diamond.” Though it had only just occurred to Richard if the princess was out in society l, she would surely be named as such?

The princesses reaction was odd, to say the least, but one could hardly bring such a thing to attention when speaking to royalty. At the princess’s recollection, help could not help but smile at the memory. It was in his younger days and Richard was well in his cups when he sneaked into the royal library on a dare. “I think I owe you my life princess.” He whispered, almost playfully. “Had I been found, I would have been arrested.” And disinherited from his father but thankfully it was their secret. 

Richard cleared his throat as he took a quick look around before returning his gaze to the princess. “Since I am in your debt, allow me and my wife  to be some sort of refuge for you this season.” If the princess was looking for a husband, everyone would be throwing themselves at her. At least this way, Richard would have some hand and influence in England that could not be disputed.

Marina shook her head lightly, the curls framing her dark face bouncing slightly as she did so. “You owe me nothing,” she assured Richard very quietly. “A scoundrel you might have been, but a scoundrel that proved wonderful company. To see you imprisoned would have been a scandal and a shame. And we couldn’t have that.”

She moved steadily and gracefully through the crowds, making sure to pause briefly and acknowledge the greetings and commentary of those gathered around her. The last thing she wanted to do was to seem too eager, untrained in the niceties their society deemed all important, and so she did her best to take her time.

All the same… it was impossible to mistake her intent. The princess wanted to dance.

Unlike the men in the room, she could not simply ask to be waltzed around the ballroom. Like the other young women, she would have to stand on the outskirts and wait – though Marina hardly thought that would be any sort of a problem. One or another of the eyes she felt following her about the space would, inevitably, work up the courage to be the first to approach her. Her gaze flicked to Peter, and for a moment, she met the doctor’s eyes. She couldn’t quite tell if that tensing in the pit of her stomach was anxiety, or something else. Certainly, a dance would afford them the opportunity to speak more privately, would give her a chance to apologize… if he would take her up on the silent invitation. She had maneuvered the pieces as best she could. Now all she could do was wait to see if he was willing to engage in the game.

—

Blanche Collins had never moved so quickly as this moment when she flung herself away from her grandson. After five long years of dragging him along to parties and balls just to see him flounder on the sidelines, he was being approached — and by the princess nonetheless!

Once he had gathered his wits and seen his grandmother safely into another gentleman’s arms, Peter mustered any confidence and bravado he could manage and put them into a steady stride to meet Princess Marina in the middle of the dance floor.

His next thought certainly would later haunt him and make him cringe, but the moment felt akin to the climax of one of the many fairytales his nanny had read to him and his sister as babies. Though the crowd did not exactly part like the Red Sea, all eyes did go to the two of them as the distance finally closed between them. And this time, Peter had control over his body.

The doctor bowed low to the princess and offered an arm, whispering, “I do so hope you were coming to me and not some other, more dashing gent. For that would mean I am a fool.”

“I wonder if she would ever consider moving on to novels,” the princess speculated. “Not about this,” she added, with a slight laugh. “Or at least, one could only hope it would be a touch more veiled… But a talent like that is not one to be set aside once the Season is done. Perhaps she is already signing her name to other published pages, without London’s even realizing it…”

She tilted her head slightly to the side as she studied Margaret curiously. “Have you any hidden talents?” she asked suddenly, “Or… rather… Talents you have yet to showcase?” Again, her eyes swept the room. “I find my imagination likes to runaway with me. Everyone here must have something, no? There are so many sides to a person, one can never hope to really see them all…”

Margaret’s brows rose, taking into account the Princess’s own speculation. “There’s nothing to prove she holds another penname…but there’s nothing to disprove it either. If she was clever she would write like an entirely other being and considering she’s gone several seasons without being found out I do not think Lady Whistledown lacks whit.”

She chuckled when Marina understandably asked about hidden talents, “I do hope, your Highness, you aren’t keen to pin me as Lady Gossip.” Margaret was far too busy for that, nor did it truly hold her attention for so long. “But I will admit I am fond of, and quite divine at needlework. Cards as well, if your Highness was hoping for something more thrilling.” She smiled slightly, “Do you play anything regularly?”

“My mother says the same thing,” Marina noted, looking at the other young woman with markedly more respect. A keen mind indeed. And no qualms about showing it. The princess liked her already, and she found herself relaxing slightly in Xiomara’s presence, a little of the tension going out of her shoulders as her embarrassment faded. “So many people, regardless of gender, will deliberately underestimate us because we are female. Some women have learned to turn it to their advantage, but that is a trick I admit I have yet to master. Mama has always been an advocate of the opposite approach. Let them know who you are, she says. Do not give them room to speculate, or dictate your thoughts or personality to you. Tell them. And let no one on earth tell you different.”

She smiled a little, though the expression did not quite reach her green eyes. She took another sip of her lemonade, letting out a soft laugh. “Queen Charlotte is blessed with the sort of personality that comes only from being a force of nature,” she explained. “Another trick I’ve yet to master. But I do think she’s right. As are you. The better one knows themselves, the less time they need spend on those who will only ever refuse to understand them. Still. I do think it is a shame. After all! The Ton is meant for forging new connections, is it not? How can we build new bonds if we are unwilling to see things as they are, no matter how dull or unflattering we personally may find the picture? Especially when it comes to seeing one another. Who we are, I mean. If we are constantly painting over what is truly there with a picture of our own devising, we must be doing ourselves a disservice…”

“It’s an honor to be able to share the same opinion as Her Royal Majesty,” she says, flattered at the comment and at the knowledge that perhaps her thoughts are not as impolite as she had imagined. Of course, the Queen had a great deal more liberty about what she could say than Xiomara ever would, but it is always comforting to know that those above her shared her opinions, as rarely as the occurrence took place. Xiomara understood that as one of the few woman that had inherited her title amidst the Ton, many of her opinions had been formed beyond what many believed woman should be allowed to opine in. She is careful to never let too much be said, but she listens, and she knows her thoughts regarding female liberation are a great deal more radical than many would consider acceptable. Which is why her secret society remained that, a secret.

“It’s a matter of opinion, station and temperament, I believe,” she reassures the Princess, voice soft but eloquent. “For some, showing themselves to the world is easy, and their station allow them the liberty to do so. Others, like me, have to balance having an opinion and confronting the Ton. It’s a delicate balancing act, but I personally find it rather pleasurable.”

She smiles, then, at the sheer hope and innocence in the princess eyes.

The throne room looms, sparkling crystal and fresh wisteria decorates the fixtures to perfection. Everything must be perfect for presentations, after all. The official start of the London Season, a quiet statement from the Crown to show its people that all is well and good within Buckingham Palace and beyond. There may be a war waging on the continent, but now was a time to forget such things, and focus on more trivial pursuits.

She’s always late, just by a few minutes. It is fashionable, and really Charlotte knows she can do just as she pleases. The court bends and dances to her desire, not much more. There was just that one thorn in her side…Whistledown. If the author was lurking amongst the debutantes this year, she hoped to make an impression.

The room hushed considerably as she walked in, her usual ladies Kedley and Sewlyn a few paces behind her. There were new Patroness faces this year, but Charlotte had yet to commit their names to memory. The Pomeranians yipped and circled, only settling once Charlotte took her place amongst the padded throne. The court looked so solemn peering back at her, the Queen thought, but Charlotte kept her own placid expression absent mindedly petting one of the eager canines that climbed into her lap. She waved to the doorman to get the presentations underway.

“Please step forward, miss.” He cleared his throat quietly to the closest debutant, opening the scroll to announce them and their titles.

The time has begun for you to make your grand introduction before the Ton! For our players, head over to the events channel in our discord for further instructions.

Every opportunity in this event, regardless of whether it is your first meeting with the Queen or not, is a chance to earn her favor. Do your best, but be aware that certain things are up to chance. Later, you will be partnered to explore Buckingham Palace.

You will need to roll a die for this first part. Then, reply to this post as if it were an open starter, and tell us how your character has prepared, who their chaperone is (if they have one), and their mindset. You may make your post curtseying/bowing before the Queen, but you may not control her. Once the die is rolled, reveal the outcome at the end of your post.  Good luck! 🍀

Here is our masterpost about the gathering →

Whistledown’s words echoed in Marina’s head over and over, as she stood alone in the crowded receiving room, surrounded, and yet somehow completely isolated from the debutantes and their escorts who swarmed around her. Unlike the other young women, there was no one standing by to fix the ostrich feathers woven curiously into the back of Marina’s hair, so as not to compete with her tiara... no one to encourage her to smile, or to fuss over the way the delicate sheer fabric of her dress fell about her... Her mother stood on the far side of the tall ornate wooden doors she had known since childhood, across a room that had grown impossibly long and full in the few short hours since she and Charlotte had parted that morning...

An ocean of eyes lay between them, and one pair surely belonged to the lady Whistledown (or if not, she would most certainly hear about the event soon thereafter).

Is the princess ready for this?

Marina glanced at herself in the reflection of a nearby window, doing her best to look subtly, so as not to seem vain. Her gown was delicate lace and silks that twisted elegantly across her chest, but was so sheer over her shoulders, it seemed more a suggestion of fabric than the reality. The pure white was frosted with glittering silver thread, detailing small, complicated flowers that cascaded down the length of the empire silhouette. Marina’s thick, tight curls had been twisted up beneath a small diamond tiara, with a design reminiscent of frost creeping across a window pane, and a matching necklace that dripped like icicles down along her collar bone.

If she hadn’t been so frightfully nervous, she might have smiled. If nothing else, she certainly looked the part. A fairytale blending of winter and the promise of spring...

Is the princess ready for this?

All she could do now was step into the light, and wait for the world to answer...

“Her Royal Highness, Marina Georgiana Charlotte, Princess of Wales.”

Marina forced herself to take a deep inhale, and stepped out into the waiting sea of courtiers. Her heart fluttered like a bird caught inside her chest, but somehow, she managed to hold her smile as she crossed the endless length of the room to where her mother, Queen Charlotte, sat waiting.

Time seemed to slow as she slid with all the grace she could muster into a curtsey, lowering her gaze as she bent before the queen.

Is the princess ready for this?

Am I ready for this?

One heartbeat... and then the next... Time froze. Her breath stopped in her chest, as she lifted her eyes to find her mother’s, searching that strangely aloof and yet all too familiar face.

Have I made you proud?

Marina’s expression softened. “The Queen can be a difficult woman to please,” she admitted. “If the season was as difficult as you say, and you still came out shining enough to take the Gold, you must be a remarkable woman.”

She was quiet again, taking a moment to revel in the warmth of Lydia’s contact, before placing her hand over the other woman’s.

“… How do you get them to… like you?” Marina asked shyly, unable to bring herself to meet Lydia’s eyes. “Not the suitors,” she hastened to add, “I mean all the rest… I haven’t-… I know it’s absurd. I know people will be… courteous to me, at the very least, for the sake of my position and mama at the very least, but… There will just be so many people I do not know. And people my own age for once, with whom I might actually form a connection, who have little or no agendas… To be honest, Lady Gramercy… it’s one of the things I’m most looking forward to about the season! Only… I’m not sure I’m entirely up to the task. I haven’t… had much opportunity to socialize with other people my age, who didn’t have some sort of powerful or political influence. Everyone I know seems to be connected to someone who wants something, though never really from me… I feel so very far behind… How do you-… How do you know if they like you? I mean REALLY like you, and not everything else? How can you be sure when you’ve really made a friend?”

“I’ve no doubt that you know your own Mama the best of the two of us, and I trust your opinions.” replied Lydia. “Thank you for the kind words, but you must know there is so much more to my recent past than what the gossips say.”

Lydia’s eyebrows knitted together as she took in Marina’s question. A surprise to absolutely no one, it elicited quite a layered answer. Lydia struggled to find the words, wanting to come off as genuine and not like someone simply spouting what she believed the princess would want to hear.

“Honestly, I haven’t got a clue.” She breathed, crossing her arms. “I think the best advice I can give you, is to just be honest and kind.” Her eyes studied Marina’s for a reaction. “Some of the other young ladies will be jealous of you and want to shun you, regardless of how you present yourself. The most important thing that you can do…is find one person who sees you for just you. Not your title and not your heritage. Once people see that you are not bothered by them, they shall back off and the respect will follow.”

“The Ton will do as it has always done. I can only hope to navigate it with as much grace as Mama and the remainder of her court... It is not the talk, so much, that worries me... A sovereign must learn to hold their heads high, even in the most violent of storms... It’s only...” Despite her best lessons and breeding, Marina bit her lower lip. For an instant, the trappings seemed to fall away, and for that instant there could be glimpsed the very young woman, hardly out of girlhood, hidden underneath. “If... there isn’t anyone? Who can... see me. As I am.”

Marina shifted in her seat, turning her full attention to the Lovell family, gesturing to the guards to allow the small group into her box. Her smile was soft, warm, though perhaps a little more reserved than it might have been only a few days earlier. She nodded to each of the children as the Baroness Lovell introduced them, being sure to take them all in. Meet their eyes. Make them feel seen. Feel valued. It may mean more to them than you know, so make each moment count.

The last member of the party had been standing half ensconced in the shadows at the back of the box, his face just out of Marina’s view, even as she moved to face him. He stepped forward into the light… and Marina felt her heart stutter, stop, start again, the breath catching in her throat as the whole world seemed to fall away.

Those eyes.

“You-”

She hadn’t forgotten them. Not once in all the nights that had followed that strange and thrilling encounter in that moonlit winter garden, and she was profoundly grateful for the way her dark skin hid the intensity of her blush as she felt the heat rising in her cheeks. The princess caught herself, her smile full of delight and surprise as she quickly extended her hand to the major, giving his hand a warm, subtle squeeze.

“You are a member of His Highness’ Army?” she amended, hoping that her slight stumble was not too noticeable. “Major Lovell, you must allow me to extend the most ardent of thanks, on behalf of myself and the Crown. It is an honor to meet you, and to welcome you back home.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest, and something almost mischievous pulled at the corner of her smile at his taunt. Bold. But she knew that already.

“I believe someone has deceived you, Major. Miss Clarke is in fact the princess. Though there is a witch, and as I recall she does spend some portion of the story in disguise. The opera is a take on one of the old Germanic fables… though we know the story better as Rapunzel. The princess meets a very handsome young man who scales the walls of the castle tower to be with her… It ends in tragedy. He is driven away and left to wander the earth, while the princess is left in the tower alone… Personally, I’ve always wished for a happier ending for the two of them… though I have always been a romantic at heart. Who knows. Mayhaps this time, they’ll change the story…”

Almost as soon as the words had left her lips, she wished they hadn’t. The image of the scandal sheet flashed once again across the young woman’s mind, and she felt her heart clench sharply in her chest. A selfish thing to want. She turned her gaze back to the Baroness, her expression warming as she gestured to the seat beside her. “You must be so proud, my lady, to have such exemplary children. They each have such a bright and individual spark about them. I’ve no doubt they shall each do you credit this season. I know you must certainly have other boxes to visit this evening, but I would be delighted if you would be so good as to join me, if only for a few moments. I do so love good company.”

His eyes lit up in delight when the princess recognized him. Their chance encounter helped with his healing of his mind. Admitting something aloud to someone else that he kept to himself, was therapeutic. He wondered what happened to the girl he left in the snow a year ago. However, in his mind, she was serving the crown, not wearing one. 

“Thank you, your highness.” He said gratefully. “My time serving has benefited me greatly. I have learned many things, including important skills. I won’t bore you with details, but it did allow for interesting adventures, and seeing forbidden places I thought I would never see.” A pleasant burst of energy went through Jasper at their little game. He should have been an actor, not a soldier. 

“I have been deceived, but I am pleasantly surprised.” Jasper smiled. “Tragic endings do nothing for me. Both people should have their happy endings, don’t you think?” Sterling, his brother, gave him a suspicious look but said nothing.

Jasper nodded at his siblings, looking back towards their seats. “We should be going-” “I had a thought.” His mother interrupted, a small smirk on her face. “Jasper, you should stay with the princess, lest another troublesome gentleman bother her.” Jasper eyed his mother, who only smiled. The remaining Lovells bow to the princess, leaving the box. Jasper overhears James whispering to his twin, “Are we seeing a different opera? I thought it was about one of the Greek myths.”

Jasper takes a seat near the princess. He cocks his head at her, a self-satisfied smile on his face. "I have so many questions for you, little witch. It must be hard to hide your secret from an unsuspecting gentleman. Do you normally trick your subjects?“ He teased. Jasper should be scared, terrified of what the princess could have done to him. However, that pleasant burst of energy from before kept coming back in quick blasts. He could never stay away from a thrill. 

Marina offered the major a knowing smile as he took the seat beside her. Her eyes were bright and full of mischief. She hadn’t been indulged with any sort of a nickname since she was a child, and there was nothing she could do to suppress the soft, musical burst of laughter that slipped from her.

Welcome to Meme Friday at The Ton! 🧣  Each Friday, we’ll post one or two memes for characters to reblog on their accounts. Reblogging the meme specifies that you are accepting asks from it, and that you’re also sending asks out to others. Feel free to reblog and answer memes until end of day Sunday. After that, save what’s left over in your inbox for the next Meme Friday. Enjoy!  

Send me an emoji and I will write a drabble for our characters!  add * for role reversal or send two for both in the same scene!

🤚   - to offer your muse a hand in dance . 

🤕 - to dress your muse’s wound . 

 🎀   - to braid / brush your muse’s hair . 

🗡️ - to point a weapon at your muse .   

👑     - to bow down before your muse . 

☀️   - to kiss your muse’s hand . 

💎 - to try to steal something from your muse . 

🚬 - to light your muse’s cigarette . 

🙄 - for my muse to roll their eyes at yours . 

💐- to gift a bouquet of flowers . 

😴 - to fall asleep on your muse . 

🧥   - to warm your muse by wrapping them in a coat / blanket . 

🌻   - for my muse to suddenly hold your muse’s hand .

❗️   - for my muse to hold your muse’s chin as a way of getting attention .  

🔔   - for my muse to wake yours from a nightmare . 

🎁   - for my muse to cup your muse’s face with their hands . 

⭐️   - for my muse to stargaze with yours . 

💍 - for my muse to tie a piece of jewelry around your muse’s neck or wrist . 

❤️ - for my muse to kiss yours on the forehead . 

👋   - for my muse to tug at your muse’s sleeve for attention . 

🥱 - for my muse to yawn loudly . 

🌸 - to place a flower crown on your muse’s head . 

🦁   - to snarl / growl at your muse .  

🤝   - for my muse to reach out their hand for a handshake . 

💥   - to push your muse aside . 

🖕 - for my muse to flash their middle finger at your muse . 

🌹   - for my muse to blush .  

🌼   - to give your muse a piggyback . 

🌾   - for my muse to catch yours from falling / fainting . 

🟠   - for my muse to pace back and forth . 

🤺   - to challenge your muse to a sparring match . 

 🩹   - to trace your muse’s scars . 

 👁   - to glare at your muse . 

✨ - for your muse to catch mine shirtless . 

🎵   - for my muse to catch yours singing in secret . 

💧 - for my muse to wipe away your muse’s tears . 

🧽   - to wipe / clean blood off your muse . 

😢 - for my muse to be caught crying . 

💪 - for my muse to flex their muscles . 

✊   - for my muse to hit yours . 

😶‍🌫️   - to be caught hiding from something . 

🧍 - to block your muse’s path . 

🌡   - to check your muse’s temperature . 

🚶 - to go on a long walk together . 

⚡   - to take shelter from a storm together . 

👀 - to be caught staring at your muse . 

🧨   - to pin your muse against the wall . 

 ⚔️   - to fight against enemies together . 

🤫 - for my muse to place a finger to their lips, shushing your muse . 

👞   - for my muse to help yours get dressed . 

🤗   - to hug your muse . 

🩸   - to approach your muse soaked in blood . 

🛡️   - for my muse to protect yours from harm . 

Marina’s eyes lit up with genuine delight. “I see! So we shall be stepping into the light together. At least that will be one familiar face,” the princess beamed. “Your sister must be incredibly grateful, to have someone so dedicated to ensuring her happiness, even before her own. No doubt a heart like that will have no trouble shining through in these halls! And paired with a mind clever enough to run such an estate… a rare combination indeed.”

Her expression softened a little as Xiomara spoke to her in lowered tones. Already, Marina could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, and she let out an embarrassed little half laugh, lowering her gaze momentarily. “Oh, I-… You are too kind, I’m sure. But I thank you all the same.” She offered Xiomara a somewhat shy, but warm smile. She lowered her voice as well, covering her next remark by raising her glass of lemonade to her lips, speaking to the viscountess in an undertone.

“It is less the introductions that concern me, but everything that follows after. Do you-…” she hesitated, then seemed to come to some sort of internal decision. “Do you ever find yourself in the midst of a conversation… and you seem to realize that the person you are conversing with is looking straight through you? As if you’ve nothing of note to say, or they’ve simply stopped listening?” She very nearly laughed. “I seem to get through the introductions just fine, but what I absolutely dread are those conversations that fall dead as a duck on a good day’s hunt.”

The folly of her forthrightness struck the princess a moment too late, and she quickly took a sip of her lemonade, her laugh just a little too bright. “Forgive me. That was… callous. I have been looking forward to tonight for so long, I cannot help but to be a bit… nervous. But that is no excuse to be so inexcusably crude… What I mean to say is… I hope to make something of a genuine impact, and as you can see… I sometimes find myself at a loss as to what to say…”

…

“Of course,” she tells her, charmed by the enthusiasm. It’s always a joy to see young debutantes genuinely excited for the season, specially when they are as hopeful and beautiful as Princess Marina. She expects a good season for the Princess, as her demeanor will have the Ton falling at her feet in wonderment. Rarely does royalty walk amongst them, but she hopes the princess will face none of the hardships many a debutante face, she is too darling to be confronted with the realities of the Ton just yet. “I would be delighted to be a familiar face to seek comfort upon during the season. I quite enjoy helping other debutantes.”

The compliments that follow leave Xiomara rather bashful, unused as she is about being complimented about her actions. Or at all, for that matter. Xiomara is ever present, ever helpful in the background of the Season’s many events. A helping hand, an empathetic ear. A comfort that has been taken for granted, and she does not mind, for she enjoys helping. It is just odd, to have the effort she has put into helping her family acknowledged by anyone but her family.

“It seems it’s my turn to be struck speechless by your kindness,” Xiomara says softly, only jesting slightly, cheeks warm by the compliment. The Princess’ words only seem to reaffirm her belief that she would be beloved. Charming, breathtaking and kind, Princess Marina deserved the Ton’s love. She hopes she gets it, for Xiomara knows the wounds their disdain could strike and she would not wish them on anyone.

Princess Marina’s next few words lets her know that it is far to late, she has already been hurt by their disdain.

“Unfortunately, I have had those sort of conversations quite often,” she admits voice quiet as her eyes wander the room and ensure there is no one nearby. No one is, not close enough to listen, so she continues, word measured but sincere. “It’s a rather unfortunate side effect of being female, I am afraid. Many will believe that they know you merely because they have formed an impression of you based on your appearance and rank. They are tedious, but at least they allow you to determine who is worth your time and who is not.”

She waits patiently as the Princess backtracks, and light smile twitching on her lips as Princess Marina excuses herself, but does not push further, acknowledging the words with a nod.

Marina let out a surprised, delighted laugh as Peter kissed her hand, giving him a curious look as she withdrew. His warmth was unexpected. Not at all the cold, accusatory, inquisitive stares and stiff responses she might have expected from someone she had so blatantly lied to. He didn’t seem to be much of an actor, if the expressions on his sister and grandmother’s faces told her anything. Awkward, certainly. And odd. Very odd. But that warmth was reassuring, and she nodded to him and the others again, before turning and making her way further down the line.

Marina followed her mother up to the dais, seating herself beside the Queen as the festivities began. It was strange, knowing that this party, so out of season, was all to celebrate their arrival… and yet that they should be so separate from it all.

“That young man,” Queen Charlotte’s voice broke suddenly in on Marina’s thoughts, and she started, turning to look up at her mother, who was not watching her, but the ladies and gentlemen slowly making their way onto the dance floor. “The one with Lady Collins. Who is he?”

“A Doctor Singh-Collins,” Marina replied, hoping her voice sounded as cool to the queen’s ears as it did to her own. “Her grandson.”

“Hmm.”

Marina’s eyes swept the ballroom. She could not help but to pick Peter out of the crowd. Was he watching? Was he speaking to someone? No… No, don’t be stupid… He wouldn’t tell…

“Mama? May I-” The princess glanced to the queen, then to the dancers sweeping across the floor.

The corner of Charlotte’s mouth pulled up into the faintest, teasing smile. “I’m surprised you’ve sat here so long already. Go on. If you’re to show the Ton what you are made of, we certainly must start somewhere. You shouldn’t have any trouble filling your dance card.” Marina’s eyes lit up with excitement, and she gave her mother a quick but elegant curtsey, before descending from the dais, and making her way towards the dancing couples.

-

When the first notes of a Minuet flowed through the ballroom, Peter let out a tired sigh. As was their tradition, his Grandmama rose from her chair on the outskirts of the dance floor to dance the opening song with him. He lead her to an empty spot that a couple had just vacated. With his arm securely around her waist, Peter began the careful steps, doing his best to avoid his sister’s eye, for she would surely be teasing him. But dash it - this was their little tradition!

Blanche’s eyes twinkled as she gazed up at her grandson. “You made quite the impression on the princess, my dear.”

“Grandmama please -”

“I do not mean to tease you, Peter.” she interjected. “Princess Marina seemed quite taken with you, even before your…meeting.”

Peter scoffed and smiled down at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The pair twirled around so that he was now facing the dais. Peter was suddenly confused to see the seat next to Her Royal Highness was now empty.

Blanche stopped suddenly. “Oh my!”

All the same... it was impossible to mistake her intent. The princess wanted to dance.