Did her father just shoo her away?
Elswyth's eyes itched as a blurry hand waved up and down like a flapping bird. She wanted to squint her eyes and shake her head to clear the fog in her mind and eyes to see the gesture more clearly, but because of decorum, remained still.
In despite the great distance and lack of clarity of his actions, her heart warmed at the very fact her father of her previous life was within reach.
"May I guide the most beautiful princess' graceful hand down the stairs with me?" Her brother Bradyn' flamboyant, elegant tone sounded next to her.
Elswyth glanced helplessly at his gray, gloved hand conspicuously presented forward before her and his slightly bowed torso. Distant gasps of adoration were heard amongst the crowd of young women below.
She laid her hand on his and smiled back sweetly. "Yes, my most astoundingly, wonderful, charismatic brother. You have attracted such an π’π΄π΅π°πΆπ―π₯πͺπ―π¨ amount of attention."
Bradyn gripped her hand firmly to support her weight as he slowly descended the stairs with his sister. "Ah yes, that was part of my plan."
His plan? Elswyth wanted to rewind time before she and her brother entered the ball room so she could remind him twice more about they already made plan π΅π°π¨π¦π΅π©π¦π³.
She could already see a familiar army of mothers of noble families skillfully weaving their way through the crowd with their sons in tow toward her direction.
"Brother." Elswyth said through her permanent, gentle smile toward the guests. She squeezed Bradyn's hand, the dizziness in her head growing.
He squeezed it back in reassurance. She didn't feel any better after his response.
In a blink of an eye, it was as if a dozen young ladies manifested before her brother, their cheeks flushed pink with excitement and amusement written all over their faces. As soon as Bradyn nodded to them, grinning, they slithered through the crowd and intercepted the onslaught of Elswyth's potential suitors.
Elswyth stared dumbfoundedly at her brother. "You never cease to astound me."
He winked back. "Nothing less you should expect from your most wonderful, charismatic brother."
"How did you get those ladies to-"
"Ah," Bradyn interrupted, leading her to a cushioned seat placed at the corner of the ballroom. "I am quite in a hurry to accommodate some personally invited guests, so now if you'll excuse me dear sister-"
And off he went, gone with the wind.
Elswyth wanted to sigh once again to her brother's unpredictability. This trait of his unfortunately added an extra portion of chaos onto to her already spinning head.
Taking deep, steady breaths, she watched the faint shadows of dancing figures morph and disappear under the glowing, bright golden chandeliers. There was an aura of contentment in the air, unfolded through the multiple relaxed faces chatting with one another. Registering this, Elswyth once again recalled the noble-like undertone of the leader of her kidnapping.
Her hand smoothed her sky-blue, tulle gown, and she began to muster strength in her legs to stand up. Perhaps all are not what it seems.
"Your Highness." a Flora's voice suddenly sounded behind her, causing her to nearly flinch.
Her heart chilled at the voice. What brings her here?
Turning her head slightly, Elswyth noticed a familiar cup of tea presented to her from the bowing maid.
"Your Highness, pardon my intrusion; I am here to give you your daily tonic."
Elswyth observed the golden-brown liquid slightly rippling within the gold-lace teacup, then gazed into Flora's soft brown eyes humbly facing the ground.
She recalled receiving this tonic in the past. Because of a severe sickness that overcame her two years ago, she had been drinking medicine daily during the evenings. Ever since then, her body would collapse under any form of long, physical activity. She always blamed the sickness for her weak constitution. But was there another reason?
She had paid no mind to the drink, until she sensed unusual tension between Flora and the rest of the maids as they prepared her for the ball.
"Alright, give it to me."
Flora gently placed the cup on a small side table proximal to Elswyth. "Please be careful Your Highness, it is slightly hot."
Elswyth gave a nod of acknowledgement. "You may go now."
Head bowed, the maid backed slowly into the shadows and left the ball room.
Not wasting another thought, she left the tea untouched, and her gaze returned to scan the crowd. Her eyes stopped at a red-haired young lady with flushed pink cheeks, chatting excitedly with her older brother Bradyn.
Ah.
What a coincidence, she was one of the people she needed to meet tonight.
She groaned inwardly. And so far away from here she was seated...
Just as she rose from her seat, a young man dressed flamboyantly in white ruffles about his neck and a green, gold-laced suit approached her, bowing.
"Princess Elswyth, may I have this dance?"
Elswyth nodded, her gentle smile back on. "Sir Dreymond Beckwith." Good thing she spent reviewing and memorizing the names of every noble that had debuted in society over the past weeks.
She faintly remembered that he was one of most persistent suitors among the dozens of nobles vying for her hand.
The Beckwith family, easily recognized by their characteristic bright red hair, were considered low-tier nobles, a position long held due to their silk business that maintained their production for nearly a century. If the production of silk was much less costly and labor intensive, the family certainly would have great potential to enter the higher ranks of society. As of now, however, Dreymond had a low chance of succeeding in taking her hand among other suitors. Especially now that that his family's silk business was experiencing major setbacks in the recent years, if the rumors were true.
She could see desperation brimming in his dark blue eyes as his thick, dark brows remained unnaturally forced apart.
Elswyth noted down his expression. It looked like the rumors were legitimate.
After she offered her gloved hand into his and began to dance with him, she tried her best to ignore the increasing pain in her legs as she graciously complimented him, "Sir Beckwith, your attire is quite on trend this evening."
He dipped his head quickly. "Thank you, Your Highness."
The cello and piano maintained a cheerful lilt, causing the coupled dancers to brightly sway and alternate their feet in an energetic fashion. Then, the music elongated into one smooth, deep voice. In sync with the music, men drew their dance partners closer to themselves in one, smooth motion.
At that moment, Elswyth inched her mouth closer to his ear. But since she was too short, her lips only reached as high as his neck. If the white ruffles were not covering Dreymond's neck, a large patch of red, flushed skin could be observed.
She whispered, "Sir Beckwith, would you be so kind to lead me to my brother, I would like to converse with him."
Elswyth pulled back smoothly as the cellist drew his tune into another direction with his bow. Her innocent, bright smile left her partner in a daze.
"O-of course, Princess Elswyth."
Sir Beckwith was left staring at the back of the princess as she glided toward Prince Bradyn. He never meant to take advantage and pursue Princess Elswythβbut there was something mysterious about her bearing and speech that left him unable to make any more moves.
Before, she always wore an open, oblivious gaze at public gatherings. She used to silently gaze at everyone with her watery blue eyes, with every single emotion evident for all to see; it was like how one would gaze through a clear spring and perceive all that was in it with no difficulty.
Now, it was as if the glass spring was obscured by a strong reflection of an endless, blue sky.