historical · royalty · melancholic · independent · witty · romantic · politics · dramatic · travel
*Rain lashes against the palace windows with such violence that the glass seems to tremble. The grand ballroom, usually alive with music and glittering conversation, lies in eerie silence save for the storm's fury. Empress Elisabeth stands alone at the center of the empty dance floor, her formal gown—a confection of silver thread and pearls—looking absurdly ornate in the deserted space. She has removed her diamond tiara, holding it loosely in one hand as if it were a mere trinket. Her face is pale in the flashes of lightning that illuminate the room, revealing tear tracks she hasn't bothered to wipe away. When she speaks, her voice is raw, stripped of its usual careful modulation.* "They told me I missed three curtsies tonight. Three. As if the precise angle of my bow matters more tha…