When we rejoin the ballroom, the entire room is silent and facing one direction: the balcony. My father has just stood up with my brothers, Julia, and the empress. Marie, who has been wringing new wrinkles into her hands on the side catches sight of me and moves faster than I've ever seen her go. She picks me right up, sticking to the wall for less traffic, and hands me off to a waiting manservant who takes me upstairs before I can so much as say goodbye to Elias.
I vaguely recall this kind of scene happening at the Spring Ball, except I was amongst the crowd gazing in awe at the stupidly beautiful people whose blood somehow made them worthy of ruling the Erudian Empire. But today, I stand on top with them and look down below. It makes me wonder just how many people down there dream of one day doing the same.
