The Hawthorne estate buzzed with frenetic energy as servants scurried about, ensuring every detail met Duchess Aveline's exacting standards. The air inside the grand house was tense, reflecting the anticipation of the upcoming ball hosted by the Linford family. Duchess Aveline's determination to make Eleanor shine was palpable, her instructions ringing out like commands on a battlefield.
"This gown must be immaculate. Not a single crease," Aveline barked at a maid holding a flowing lavender dress. "And the jewelry—make sure it complements her eyes. We need perfection."
Eleanor sat near the window, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the sill. "Mother," she said with a sigh, "you're stressing over nothing. Everything is fine."
"'Fine' is not good enough," Aveline snapped, turning to face her daughter. Her sharp eyes softened briefly before she added, "This isn't just about you, Eleanor. This is about showing them we belong. That you belong."
