The Last Dance (30)

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Thank you all for being so patient for this chapter, there were so many times I was going to cut it off and then just kept on going. Not all the nights of the ball will be this long, but since this was the first I had to start it off awesome. I was so excited, I even made my own picture montage for the chapter which is on the side =)  

The dress is a little more modern than I would have liked, I was hoping for something more vintage to match the olden days with a modern twist time period but didn't have much luck, so modern it is.

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Go back and vote?  

Cheers,  

xo.  

And now, enjoy the long awaited ball!!

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Recap:

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"Until tomorrow then Celia" Mason said with a quick smile.  

"Unfortunately" I muttered with a frown.  

"'Night Cece, try not to rip up your gowns in the night"  

"Would that get me out of attending?" I asked hopefully.  

"Not likely. I'm sure you're friends have extras hidden away, and my mother would be happy to lend you her old ones" He said with a smirk.  

I walked away grumbling under my breath about that ball. Whatever else might happen over the next five days of the ball, one thing was certain.  

John would NEVER let me live down wearing all those dresses.  

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Chapter 30 - The Mask

{The High Ball, Day 1}

Celia's POV

I stubbornly covered my ears, trying to drown out the constant knocking that had plagued my door all morning.

I know it was silly and childish but I found myself unable to face whatever might wait outside those doors.

The day was finally here, the first night of the ball. It was really happening.

It had been years since I'd gone to the High Ball, and I dreaded going now. Images of me tripping over a gown, falling down the stairs, or embarrassing myself in front of everyone kept playing over and over in my hear in a constant loop.

I winced every time, it seemed too real.

Lily and Mira had been outside my door several times already, trying to coax me out, but I couldn't answer the door even if I wanted to. I felt paralyzed in place, under the false belief that if I just remained here long enough it would all go away.

Already I could imagine the cold stares and sneering mouths of the court ladies, judging me for all I was. I couldn't imagine myself to be anything compared to their daughters of nobility, trained to be proper ladies from birth.

What would they regard me as? Some barbaric knight-to-be who didn't belong in their world, most like. A caged animal they all mocked and jeered at.

I could hear the sounds in my mind, as if they were already happening; the sound of fabric ripping as I lost my balance somewhere, the quiet snickering behind upraised hands, the pitying tsks and sniffles of contempt.

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