Snow graciously falls against the sleek, black limousine in the late October evening. The clouds against the dull and wintery sky mask any life left from the autumn months. I watch intently as they darken with the passing time, the setting sun hidden by the layers of gloom being the result of the blackness.
As the vehicle sits stationary in front of one of the most expensive manors in the westmost part of our lands, I sit patiently waiting for my escort—better known as my assigned soldier and friend—to take me to one of the most prestigious events of the year: the Snow Ball.
While I was born into this lifestyle of royalty, I could care less for the luxury of it all; or maybe I'm so adjusted to it by now that it's become a routine that I've fallen into.
Mylithia's know for its wealth. It was created upon prosperity and loyalty—but I beg to differ. It's anything but loyal and my parents know it well enough, even if they refuse to tell me the secrets they hold. I've always heard rumors about Mylithia's unfaithfulness, though they could all be lies.
I've been spoiled my entire life, being the daughter of the second-highest ranked King and Queen in the kingdom. My father has been praised for his bravery and honesty to his people. My mother was also raised through royalty, having met my father at a ball similar to the one I'm going to attend tonight.
From what they've told me, they instantly fell for each other when they first met. Most claim it was 'love at first sight' but I firmly believe that love happens with time and care. Coincidentally though, my parents were bound together by marriage regardless of their initial meeting due to royal blood being forced to marry royal blood.
From inside the car I spot my bodyguard and escort for the night, Max Williams, as he walks up to the vehicle while speaking to my father, Arthur Fawn. Their conversation is inaudible to me, but I already know they're likely discussing all of the new false news that's been circling Mylithia. Our people have always made up stories about their rulers and the kind of lifestyle they assume we live.
Max and my father—although not being remotely close in age—are one of the greatest duos I know. Max is only a couple of years older than me, but we still get along fairly decently.
The crimson suit my father is dressed in is paired with a tie that looks as though it's the shade of blood. It's hard to make out the minor details of him and his outfit, but I can easily read the strain on his face, likely due to another long day of maintaining order and peace with the poorer sectors of Mylithia.
Max, as always, is dressed in a black and white set with his signature black bow tie and an earpiece that every soldier is required to wear for communicational purposes. His black hair looks less of a mess tonight. I look out of the car window once again, pondering what they're discussing.
After a few minutes pass, my mother, Juliana Fawn, arrives in the flaky snowfall from inside the manor who dresses as if she was fit to be queen. It's no wonder my father and her were meant for one another.
Her dress matches my father's deep red attire as she carries her elegance in a beautiful, long gown. It's embroidered with royal gems around the waistline that reflect a silvertone whenever she rotates in the light. Her outfit is paired with a light cape that matches her crimson theme to keep her warm against the cold temperatures.
While I've never remotely looked like my father, my mother and I both share light brown hair and emerald eyes. My seamstress chose a lilac gown for me which she claimed compliments my skin tone and my other various features. My small figure just barely fits into the gown though; I have my mother to blame for her beauty standards. Breathing in this dress is not going to be an option tonight.
My gown hugs my torso, showing off my curves. The sleeves, though, are a silk material that flows from the tips of my shoulders to the bones of my wrists. Similar to my mother's, my dress is also bejeweled around the seams and the waist. It wouldn't be an appropriate outfit for someone apart of my class if it weren't as eye-catching.
Except for my overdone dress, I refused to let my stylist cake my face in makeup. While I'm merely a centerpiece for my family's reputation, being the center of attention has never been my goal. If anything, I'd rather live among the middle class instead of attending overpriced dances such as tonight.
Even with my refusal to wear heavy makeup, I was still forced to display our family's jewelry as a way to 'honor their legacy'. Of course, with this being the grandest ball of the year my mother required me to go all out. She practically dictates everything I wear.
Along with the fine jewels, I carry a warm cloak that's wrapped comfortably around my shoulders. It helps to suffice for the minimum heat in the limousine.
My hair falls in waves against my back, reaching down to the middle of my spine. Jeweled clips pull the front strands of my plain hair off of my face as they irritatingly pinch my scalp. I've thought over yanking them out altogether, but I know my mother would be displeased to see them discarded.
I fumble with the material of my cloak as I patiently wait for Max to finish up his conversation with my father. I'm taken from my trance when I hear the car door on the other side of the vehicle open and look up to see Max standing outside as he gazes down at me.
"Ready to go?" he asks. I nod slowly, eager to get this event over with.
Most of my friends will be at the ball tonight, and while I'm excited to see them for the first time in a while, I'm not exactly thrilled about the idea of it being at a large social gathering. But like I said, I'm accustomed to these kinds of things by now.
Max joins me in the limo as my father and mother enter a separate one behind us. We pull out of the long driveway of my family's manor as the lights illuminating the massive home fade from view. The uneasiness begins to settle into my system as I stare out into the night.