“I introduce Lady Genesis of Clearwood!” Violins squealed over the man’s awkward announcement. The spineless man faltered. The parchment between his gloved hands crisp and the color of pure cream. Genesis adjusted her lips to an effortless pout and folded her hands neatly in front of her. Her green dress shimmered in the candlelit ballroom. Flames danced across the halls, shadows slithering across the dance floors. 

The weasel of a man cleared his throat. That was her signal, Genesis realized. She smiled softly and started her way down the stairs. The carpeted steps muffled every click of her heels. The marble staircase leading to a crowd of royals. 

“Lady Penelope of Sandlake!”

His voice was just as quiet over the music, Genesis observed. The musicians had barely given him any thought as they pressed their bows to the string. Louder and louder beats of violas and cellos rang out into the room. The chatter of ladies and lords ran like whispers through the walls of the palace.

While keeping her hands grasped together in front of her, her index finger flicked her ring. The gold band wrapped around her finger with the front displaying her family’s crest. 

She always detested the ring. The crest that laid on the gold was horrid. The rule of Clearwood has not been sound in any way. Multiple wars, several burnings, and more revolts from the people. Genesis was unsure of whether she would want to rule it alone, or pass the burden onto some unknowing prince.

Still, as much as she hated the ring and it’s symbolism in her people’s history, she continued to fiddle with it. Her foot hit the last step as she was engrossed in her thoughts. The

carpet ended to show the elegance of chandeliers and polished statues. Genesis couldn’t help but smile as she spotted a statue of a young woman, as naked as the day of her birth, without arms and legs. It nearly made her feel happy; to know someone felt as trapped as she was. 

“Lady Genesis,” a deep voice intruded her musings. Genesis turned to be met with a hand. A dazzling smile greeted her as she looked up. The flames made the shadows bounce as the man stared at her expectantly. Genesis did not take his outreached hand. 

“Lord Samuel, I was under the impression you were not to attend.” Genesis slipped out before she could think. She froze after she had processed what she had said. Her cheeks light up in embarrassment, the rouge color matching the shade of red her hair was. 

“That I am– here that is.” Lord Samuel stammered as he pressed his hand to his side. Genesis tried not to roll her eyes. The lord was a mess, not only socially but politically. His kingdom was always in poverty, always engaging in useless battles, and always out for land. 

You’d think he’d have something better to do other than try and dance with me, Genesis remarked silently. She giggled aloud to herself. Lord Samuel looked curious, but did not press the matter.

“Would you wish to accompany me to a dance?” 

Genesis chose to ignore how the man squeaked. She also chose to ignore his question, turning away from him and striding over to a group of young men. The young men seemed to be hunters, if their uniforms of cloaks and rope were anything to go by. Genesis caught a leak under one of the men’s robes and saw the edge of a dagger. The dagger was rusted, but still sharp to the touch. 

“Hello, gentlemen.” Genesis greeted with clenched teeth and a strained smile. Now that she had gotten up close, the group of men had not looked handsome, nor were from any of the

carpet ended to show the elegance of chandeliers and polished statues. Genesis couldn’t help but smile as she spotted a statue of a young woman, as naked as the day of her birth, without arms and legs. It nearly made her feel happy; to know someone felt as trapped as she was. 

“Lady Genesis,” a deep voice intruded her musings. Genesis turned to be met with a hand. A dazzling smile greeted her as she looked up. The flames made the shadows bounce as the man stared at her expectantly. Genesis did not take his outreached hand. 

“Lord Samuel, I was under the impression you were not to attend.” Genesis slipped out before she could think. She froze after she had processed what she had said. Her cheeks light up in embarrassment, the rouge color matching the shade of red her hair was. 

“That I am– here that is.” Lord Samuel stammered as he pressed his hand to his side. Genesis tried not to roll her eyes. The lord was a mess, not only socially but politically. His kingdom was always in poverty, always engaging in useless battles, and always out for land. 

You’d think he’d have something better to do other than try and dance with me, Genesis remarked silently. She giggled aloud to herself. Lord Samuel looked curious, but did not press the matter.

“Would you wish to accompany me to a dance?” 

Genesis chose to ignore how the man squeaked. She also chose to ignore his question, turning away from him and striding over to a group of young men. The young men seemed to be hunters, if their uniforms of cloaks and rope were anything to go by. Genesis caught a leak under one of the men’s robes and saw the edge of a dagger. The dagger was rusted, but still sharp to the touch. 

“Hello, gentlemen.” Genesis greeted with clenched teeth and a strained smile. Now that she had gotten up close, the group of men had not looked handsome, nor were from any of the 

neighboring kingdoms. The cloak laid off center on their shoulders, the dark green was a significant change from the kingdom’s navy colored uniform. 

But if they were to be from beyond the Maystone fields.. Genesis decided to waste no more time dwelling in her thoughts. With a quick combing her hair using her fingers, she took the place of a man who had left. 

“Gentlemen,” Genesis greeted. She straightened her posture and unclasped her hands. Pressing her hand into the view of the men, she curtsied.

One man stared at her outstretched hand with a frown. He cocked an eyebrow.

“Are you wishing to dance or something?” He questioned. Genesis forced her hand down and cringed at her behavior. She recollected herself and tried to hide the small sense of shame deep inside her. 

“I was merely wondering if you were a proper member of the council. Judging by the questions, you are but a mere child who wandered in.” She replied to him. Her hand grazed the silk of her dress, a quiet voice in her head chastised her for her manners. 

“Genesis Elizabeth, one should not speak out of line! ” 

Her mind rang as the man in front of her gaped openly. A friend, she assumed, laughed at his demise. Their faces were all covered by hoods, shadows caking their faces in mystery. The voice in the back of her mind was still screaming at her. The shrill voice of her deceased maid rang through her thoughts, blocking out the sounds of the full ballroom.