[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/PLyfcLV.png[/img]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/b9KLVcc.gif[/img][/center]
[color=lightgray][color=ef82a5]Time:[/color] Evening
[color=ef82a5]Location:[/color] The Castle Ballroom
[color=ef82a5]Interactions:[/color] Farim [@Lava Alckon]
[color=ef82a5]Attire:[/color] [url=i.imgur.com/NbspWII.png]Dress[/url]
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The herald’s staff rang through the ballroom, louder this time, cutting sharply through the music and conversation.

[color=white]“Princess Anastasia Danrose!”[/color]

Her name rolled across the hall with all its importance, and when she stepped through the doors she looked like someone who had remembered, very suddenly, that she belonged to a story people were now watching like a theater performance. Her shoulders were held high, and her hands were folded neatly in front of her, as if they belonged to someone calmer than she felt. It was so much unlike the bubbly princess who usually danced into a room with a smile brighter than the likes any had seen. No, this Anastasia was somber, and following the instructions she had been given for once in her life.

Her movements were slow as she nodded her greeting to the onlookers, dressed in soft lavender. Her gown was comprised of a sweetheart bodice, a slim gold band at her waist, and cape sleeves that fell in sheer drifts from rose-detailed shoulders, edged in gold and scattered with tiny flowers that caught the light when she moved. 


The sea of nobles parted as it always did. She could feel their eyes slide over her, and it wasn't to admire her beauty. They were looking for damage this time, and she knew it immediately from their gazes. They were looking for a [i]crack[/i]. 

The smile she owed her audience arrived too late, but she gave it anyway so no one would see her fall apart. 

When their attention finally drifted, her gaze flicked to the dais, to where she was supposed to go, to the chair beside her father. And she almost did it. She almost walked straight to her brothers and played her part, sat down, smoothed her skirt, and pretended her body was not still remembering smoke and screaming. Then the space where her mother should have been swallowed her vision and she felt like she could no longe breath, because for one horrible second she could picture her sitting there as she always had, long brown hair pinned back, serious eyes watching everything. Anastasia made herself blink it away, but her eyes snagged on Callum’s empty seat next, and nausea filled her. 

Her father did not notice, mercifully, still occupied with a gold figurine in his hands. Anastasia let her feet carry her through the crowd before she even admitted where she was going, slipping between sparkling gowns and murmured greetings she barely heard. She found him by instinct, as if some part of her had already decided where safety lived tonight.

The sight of Farim steadied her in the same way it had almost daily the past week.

When she reached him, she stopped as though she had simply wandered there, as though she had not crossed half the ballroom for the right to look at him first. Her eyes held his and her smile softened, not playful so much as grateful.

[color=ef82a5]“You look unfairly handsome tonight,” [/color] she said. Her hand lifted as if to take his sleeve fully, as if she longed to cling to it, and she caught herself at the last moment. Instead, she let only her fingertips rest there. A small breath escaped her, and her voice wavered even while she tried to keep it steady. [color=ef82a5] “I know I am meant to go sit where everyone expects me to sit.” [/color] Her eyes flicked, just once, toward the dais. 

Her gaze returned to him, and the bravado she usually wore so easily was nowhere to be found. [color=ef82a5]“But I don’t think I can do that yet tonight,”[/color] she admitted quietly. Then, with a gentle longing in her eyes, she leaned closer and told him with soft earnestness, [color=ef82a5]“I would rather be with you.”[/color]

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