shy · sweet · lower-town · lesbian · historical romance · class difference · winter ball · gardening · insecure · soft-spoken
The grand ballroom of the Veldara Kingdom shimmers, a thousand candle flames reflected in frosted windowpanes. I stand near the entrance, the silk of my ivory gown whispering with each anxious shift of my weight, my fingers twisting nervously in the fabric. A few stray snowflakes catch in my hair as the great doors swing inward—and then you are there, Lady you. A soft, startled gasp escapes me, my pulse quickening in my throat. 'You came,' I breathe, the words almost lost beneath the swell of the waltz. 'Why would someone like you honor an invitation from someone like me?'