Royal Betrayal

Chapter 4 Insecurity

Becka pinned up Josoline's hair atop her head, carefully arranging each strand with a practiced hand. Josoline sat before the vanity, studying her reflection intently, trying to discern her best features in the mirror.

Her eyes, she thought, were pretty enough, but had they ever truly captivated a man before? Her lips, nose, and mouth seemed unremarkable, despite assurances from friends and family about her beauty. A worry line creased her forehead as she pressed her lips together in contemplation.

"Don't worry; it'll give you lines," Becka teased gently as she placed the final pin. Stepping back to admire her handiwork, she smiled warmly. "Lovely," she complimented.

While Becka went to retrieve the gown, Ruth and Mari busied themselves with final touches on their own appearances in the adjoining room.

"You have nothing to worry about," Becka reassured Josoline upon her return. "It's natural to feel butterflies."

Josoline stood as Becka helped her into the gown, her nerves palpable. "But I'm so plain-looking... I've never received a compliment from a man," she confessed.

Becka stifled a laugh at her cousin's nervousness, finding Josoline's eccentric beauty endearing. "If you can't see how lovely you are, then you're a madwoman," she declared with conviction.

Before Josoline could protest, Ruth interjected with a smile, offering her assistance. Josoline accepted, albeit reluctantly, as they adjusted her gown. The colors of the gown seemed to wash out her skin tone, leaving her feeling insecure.

"I need another gown," Josoline murmured, examining her reflection in dismay.

"What?!" Ruth exclaimed in shock.

Turning towards them, Josoline pleaded, "Look at me! I look too pale...this dress emphasizes it too much, can't you see?"

Becka cracked a smile, placing a reassuring hand on Josoline's shoulder. "You're truly being a madwoman now. You look amazing, and the prince would be a fool not to notice you."

Josoline forced a smile, trying to shake off her insecurities. "I suppose," she conceded.

"It's just nerves," Ruth reassured her with a smile. "And you needn't worry; we're behind you," she added encouragingly.

"Literally," Mari chimed in, entering the room with a grin.

As they made their way to the ballroom, they encountered Lady Clair and her entourage hurrying past, their elegant footsteps echoing on the polished floor.

"Could you hurry?" Lady Clair hissed impatiently.

"Yes, Lady Clair," another voice replied obediently.

Josoline watched them disappear around the corner before turning to face the closed doors, feeling her nerves heighten as the minutes ticked away.

"It seems we're the last to arrive," Becka remarked nervously, standing at the front of the closed door.

Ruth informed the footmen of Josoline's name, and with a deep breath, Josoline prepared herself for the grand entrance.

"Now...go and win a heart," Becka encouraged, her voice filled with determination.

"Lady Josoline Prescott," the footman announced, opening the doors to reveal the grand ballroom. Josoline lingered for a moment at the top of the stairs, taking in the opulence of the room before gracefully descending. Her eyes swept across the assembled nobles, council members, suitors, debutantes, and ladies-in-waiting, each one seemingly entranced by her presence.

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Despite her best efforts, Josoline found herself fading into the background of the bustling ballroom, unnoticed amidst the sea of glamorous guests. Disappointment gnawed at her, exacerbated by the weight of her family's scandal and her own absence from previous social seasons. She was neither a complete nobody nor a person of significant interest, a frustrating limbo that left her feeling adrift in the crowd.

As Josoline drifted towards the far end of the room, lost in her thoughts, Becka's sudden appearance startled her out of her reverie. Her cousin's keen eyes caught her in the act of trying to blend into the background, prompting a wry smile from Josoline.

"I just want to be unseen for now," Josoline murmured, a hint of resignation in her voice.

Becka's disappointment was palpable as she pulled Josoline aside, her words a stern rebuke cloaked in concern. She reminded Josoline of her true nature, the brave and ambitious woman who had once thrived in America, unencumbered by the expectations of society. It was a much-needed wake-up call, a reminder that Josoline was capable of far more than she gave herself credit for.

Josoline felt Becka's words resonate deep within her, a powerful jolt of realization that snapped her out of her self-imposed invisibility. She straightened her spine, her resolve renewed as she acknowledged the truth in Becka's words.

"Thank you, cousin," Josoline said, a genuine smile gracing her lips.

Becka returned her smile, a silent affirmation of their unbreakable bond as family. With newfound determination, Josoline led the way to the front of the room, where Ruth and Mari awaited them with encouraging smiles.

Standing tall and regal, Josoline exuded confidence and grace, a far cry from the shrinking violet she had been moments before. Becka watched with pride, her heart swelling with admiration for her cousin's resilience.

Surveying the room, Becka spotted Lady Drusilla and Lady Celia, formidable rivals in the social arena. She braced herself for the challenges ahead, knowing that Josoline was more than capable of holding her own.

As the royal fanfare sounded, signaling the beginning of the evening's festivities, Becka felt a surge of anticipation. This was only the beginning of Josoline's journey, and she had no doubt that her cousin was destined for greatness.

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