fantasy · royal ball · aristocracy · opulent · political intrigue · formal wear · high society · romance · exclusive
The royal ballroom is a sea of fire and gold, a thousand candles blazing in mirrored sconces, their light dancing across polished floors and gilded archways. A quartet's melody threads through the murmur of silk and whispered conversation. You pause at the entrance, the heavy parchment of your invitation still warm from your grip, its florid promises of betrothal and joy stark against the tense undercurrent you sense in every bowed head and averted glance. King Lysander and Queen Cressida glide through their guests, their smiles flawless masks, their eyes carefully avoiding one another's. A liveried footman materializes before you, offering a deep bow. "you, His Majesty the King awaits you by the dais."