[center][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjcyLmZmZmZmZi5VSEpwYm1ObGMzTWdSWFpoYm1kc2FXNWwuMA,,/ming.regular.png[/img] [hr][hr] [img]https://media.giphy.com/media/1d5O0wamzmhun9Iddq/giphy.gif[/img] [sub]Interactions: [@Aamaya][/sub] [hr][hr] [color=silver]The glaring lights of the glorious palace of Exodus dazzled the princess, but she didn’t ward off her eyes. Like an infinite amount of flashing stars they burst through the darkness of the night and lit up the facade. The astonishing ornaments of the building, the many details of the elaborately attached decorations, the enormous grandeur of the gates rising in front of her. Never before had she seen such luxury, such extravagance, such haughtiness. As she stood there looking up to these impossibly high spires, fighting a slight giddiness which spooked through her head, her thoughts traveled (for what might have been the thousands time) back to this morning. The morning, gleefully warm and inviting, began dreadfully horribly. Woken from one of her maids, still sleepy and already discontented, the princess got directed to an early morning bath, which she should, on behest of the Queen, give more of an effort than usually – the result smelled of some combination of flowers that Eve would not recognize. Perhaps a little mint, too? Yes, surely. Eve smelled of mint and other greenery. Luckily enough with a lot of persuasion - and much nagging – she was able to convince the maids to only add the oil in the very last few minutes of her bath; and so it happened that she only distinctly smelled of that nonsense. Evangeline used the time at the fireplace (wich she got instructed to sit in front to dry her hair) with reading. She was reading quiet a lot these days. Whenever she did not get the chance to go out and get dirty, gain scrapes or bloody knees, she sat somewhere and read a book, sinking deeply into another, far away world. But as soon as her red hair had dried, the Queen pulled her out of her fantasy world. Time was limited, she said, Eve should go get ready, the dress should be looking good. [color=82ca9d][b]“Dress?!”[/b][/color], Eve exclaimed with soft panic. A beautifully dark green gown with golden leaves and flowers draped over the chest to flow down to the waist sat in her room waiting for her, the maids ready to assist with dressing – something Eve absolutely couldn’t stand. The Queen firmly admonished her daughter to wear the gorgeous dress; it was important to appear presentable. Reluctantly, with much indecent muttering, the dress got pulled over Evangeline's head. But the torture didn’t come to an end there. Already in the tight, waisted dress, that pushed up her bosom uncomfortably, she got forced into shoes with heels. It had been a real act to get her to keep them on; five times she successfully slipped them off and put on her boots beneath the long gown – but five times the Queen caught her and put an end to it. As departure was getting closer, the worst and last evil fell upon the nagging princess. With many pins and mild force her hair got pulled into a position, that Evangeline considered absolutely unnatural. Her hair, magnificently yet decently flaunted, ached at every root. After the red mane was handled, the princess came to notice that she was not left alone for one second anymore. Apparently her mother had, out of worry her daughter would pull the pins out shortly before their departure, instructed the maids to look out for her and hinder her from any attempts of sabotage. When the time came to get seated in the carriage, the Queen admonished her daughter one last time to behave morally und like a lady of her status. She recited once more about the importance of an alliance with the Exodus Kingdom and that the princess should be fully aware of the impact her manners would have. She knew Evangeline all too well. So a little later the princess sat in the carriage, taking her further and further away from home, towards Exodus, with her personal guard and friend sitting across from her. Laurel first had declined to join her, but after Eve’s agonizing begging she had given in and was now seated in the same carriage on the same uneven road. Hours of driving passed by, yet no end in sight. The dress hugged her waist and bosom in too tightly for Evangeline’s liking, it was too ostentatious, she could not move freely, her feet cramped in these unfamiliar shoes, her hair pulled at the roots in a way that felt like it was trying to lengthen her skin. About two hours before arrival, the princess freed herself from that prison. She kicked the shoes away, hectically stripped her dress off, which got entangled with the hairpins and pulled them out halfway. She flung the gown to the floor and loosened her hair, dropped the pins onto the garment, shook her head and sighed with relief when she felt the familiar, soothing feeling of her hair against her cheeks. Half naked she sat in front of Laurel before fishing out shorts, t-shirt and boots hidden underneath the seat and dressing herself in clothing of her choice. The carriage of the princess arrived a few minutes before the royal pair’s. Laurel decided to use some time to scout the city; she believed that in an emergency it was important to know their surroundings, she felt safer that way. As did the princess. Eve was glad that she had Laurel to count on. She gave her a feeling of security. As soon as her friend was gone, Eve set off towards the entrance of the castle. The pompous lights dazzled her as she got closer. Upon her entering the building, with dubious looks two guards helped Evangeline find her way towards the feast. The palace on the inside, even though she had considered it barely possible, was even more extravagant and intimidating. As she now found herself guided to the festive garden it became undeniable: She did not like Exodus. Everything was so big, exaggerated, brightly lit, like a poster child, like a boastful announcement, it was loud, crowded, seeming arrogant and overweening. Eyes followed the barely dressed lady in her muddy calf-high boots, the very short khaki pants and that red, simple t-shirt while she slinked off to find a less crowded spot, hoping to not be seen or, worse, talked to. And foremost hoping she could flee from her parents for a little while longer. The odor in the garden produced a certain unrest in her stomach. It smelled of so many different fragrance oils, she could not make out one scent explicitly, of alcoholic beverages, hot food, warm bodies, blooming plants and something else… When a cool, fresh breeze blew in her face her stomach was more than welcoming it. Her head tilted into the direction of the soothing feeling. Relieved she breathed in the air, repressed the smell of superimposed oil on warm skin and enjoyed the chill of the evening. After just a short moment the smell came back to her, alcoholic drinks and intensive oils dominating Eve’s senses, convincing her to move towards the bar, with the bold hope a drink underneath her nose would overpower the aroma of the night. Her feet moved over the ground with ease and precision until she reached the destination. She raised a hand to gain the attention of the barkeeper. “Whiskey, please.” The princess rested her forearms on the counter, her back against the bar, and only then did she notice the person next to her. In a conspicuous, luxurious, very glittery dress, the long black hair braided, with noble headdress and multiple bracelets the lady stood next to her. Eve knew exactly who she was… very obviously a citizen of Exodus. How had she missed this dress before, everything sparkled so intrusively?! She thought herself to be more inattentive than was doing her good. Eve looked at the woman, she let her eyes gaze over her bronze skin for a short moment and became uncomfortably aware of her own pale skin. Quickly she shook the upcoming unpleasant feelings away. She looked directly into the face of the stranger – was that a broken iris? – before averting her eyes as to not stare. [color=82ca9d][b]"Also escaping the masses?"[/b][/color], she asked rhetorically. She let her gaze drift over the guests, searching for a familiar face, people from her kingdom – guards or her parents. Laurel wouldn’t be here. Her drink came quickly and she gratefully accepted it, long swallows burned in her throat and she repressed a cough. The alcohol spread warmth within her chest, a pleasant feeling she welcomed. The drink was different from back home. Maybe it was purer? Or maybe it was the environment and it was all in her head?[/color][/center]