Post by Isabelle Blackwood on May 28, 2016 16:07:48 GMT
Isabelle had just been dressed in her new gown and had done a final twirl in the mirror before smiling at her reflection. Though her hairdresser had requested pinning her hair back, Izzy had insisted she keep it down flowing around her shoulders. She preferred it to fall free.
Izzy moved down the hallways towards the ballroom with an air of grace, superiority and delight. She loved balls. The dresses, the glamour... the drink. It was all magnificent and grand and just for her. She had only recently turned sixteen and was particularly excited to meet her future husband on this occasion, or at least who her father desired to be her future husband. She had met him on occasions few and far between before, but tonight would be the most memorable for this time she was sixteen. She was practically a grown woman and she hoped he would see her as such.
Isabelle passed servants buzzing around the hallways as she walked down them, they all stopped and smiled and inclined their heads respectfully. She had to stop herself from running to the ballroom, reminding herself she needed to maintain a certain degree of decorum.
As she approached, the announcer got himself ready to call her name and state her arrival to the guests. She stood nervously waiting.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the Duchess Isabelle Ava Blackwood."
With that, she entered to responding calls of excitement and cheer, she smiled down from the top of the grand staircase to all her admiring guests. How wonderful.
Isabelle's eyes scanned the crowd eagerly for her potential fiance, but instead they fell upon a brunette quite familiar to her. Isabelle proceeded down the staircase in her direction.
"Jane dear," Isabelle exclaimed with tenderness. Though paused as she realised, Jane was not alone. A man stood beside her, she eyed him up and down with a raised eyebrow. "And you are?"
Izzy moved down the hallways towards the ballroom with an air of grace, superiority and delight. She loved balls. The dresses, the glamour... the drink. It was all magnificent and grand and just for her. She had only recently turned sixteen and was particularly excited to meet her future husband on this occasion, or at least who her father desired to be her future husband. She had met him on occasions few and far between before, but tonight would be the most memorable for this time she was sixteen. She was practically a grown woman and she hoped he would see her as such.
Isabelle passed servants buzzing around the hallways as she walked down them, they all stopped and smiled and inclined their heads respectfully. She had to stop herself from running to the ballroom, reminding herself she needed to maintain a certain degree of decorum.
As she approached, the announcer got himself ready to call her name and state her arrival to the guests. She stood nervously waiting.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the Duchess Isabelle Ava Blackwood."
With that, she entered to responding calls of excitement and cheer, she smiled down from the top of the grand staircase to all her admiring guests. How wonderful.
Isabelle's eyes scanned the crowd eagerly for her potential fiance, but instead they fell upon a brunette quite familiar to her. Isabelle proceeded down the staircase in her direction.
"Jane dear," Isabelle exclaimed with tenderness. Though paused as she realised, Jane was not alone. A man stood beside her, she eyed him up and down with a raised eyebrow. "And you are?"
