Chapter 7: The Royal Soirée

 

 

 

Chapter 7: The Royal Soirée

 

IT was now my third day in Vaxwald, and a party was to be held at the castle that evening. This was to be Princess Patricia’s official debut into Vaxwald society, and all the most influential noble families would be in attendance.

“I’m scared... What if they’ve all bought into those nasty rumors about me...?” Patricia sighed gloomily as I styled her hair that morning. Present in the room with us were Rebecca, Mona, and Sari.

“Yesterday, when you met His and Her Majesty, what were they like? Were they rude to you?” I asked.

Patricia shook her head. “No, they were both very sweet. Her Majesty the Queen was very interested in my hair.”

“I’m glad to hear it! I purposely chose a slightly more intricate hairstyle in the hopes that they might ask how it was done. To break the ice, in other words.”

“Oh, it most certainly did! We had the most lovely conversation about hairstyling—warmed me right up! Though I’m not sure what style we should go for today... Do you think I ought to wear my hair in Vaxwald style, like the Dragonkin? But it’s such an awful mess when it’s let down... It simply won’t look nice unless it’s done up!”

I watched through the mirror as Patricia pouted and twisted a strand of curly hair around her finger.

“If you’d like to give it a try, then I’m more than happy to help. I’m sure I can make Vaxwald style work for you. But if you really don’t want to, then I don’t think you have to force yourself. Personally, I believe we look our best when we wear our hair in styles that suit us and make us feel good about ourselves. And just yesterday Rebecca was saying that Myulan style suits you very well.”

“She did?” Patricia turned to look at Rebecca, who averted her gaze in mild embarrassment. “Well, since a local thinks so, I’ll wear it Myulan-style! Oh, but...what if they think I’m refusing to assimilate into Vaxwald culture...?”

“We’ll have you wear a hair accessory that will disprove that very notion.”

“How will that work...?”

“You’ll see,” I smiled. “I’ll bring the accessory with me later this evening when I come by to restyle your hair for the party.”

❀❀❀

THAT night, the royal soirée was held in the Great Hall on the first floor of the castle. The room was illuminated with dozens of lamps and chandeliers, each a veritable spotlight upon the various members of the upper crust all decked out in their finest—so bright you’d scarcely notice it was pitch-black outside. Onstage, a top-class orchestra was playing a gentle melody.

Meanwhile, amid all this decadence, I stood idly near the corner of the room, wearing a dark blue and white gown. My hair was done up in a Gibson tuck, where the ends were quite literally tucked into the rest of the hair, and I had tied a sky-blue satin ribbon over the bun—a nice, summery shade for the occasion.

Her Highness had requested I attend the party “just in case I have the opportunity to introduce you to the Queen or the other noble ladies,” ergo, here I stood. And while I appreciated the opportunity to observe everyone’s hair firsthand (as well as their reactions to Patricia’s hair), I was feeling rather nervous at the thought of being personally introduced by the Princess of Myulan.

The Great Hall was already full of aristocrats, talking and laughing while eagerly awaiting the arrival of the King, Queen, Prince Dario, and his young bride-to-be. It seemed to me like practically every Dragonkin woman had a model physique, tall and slender, the majority of whom also had narrow, almond-shaped eyes. In other words, their overall vibe was a lot like Rebecca’s. And the hairstyles that flattered them were decidedly not big or poofy. They seemed to understand this, because their chosen styles were all straightforward and unpretentious—befitting of long, straight hair like theirs.

“With that perfectly straight hair, they make a simple ponytail look slick and polished... Oh, and that one over there looks great with her hair down... Just one accessory and she’s set...”

As much as I wanted to give it a try, I had a feeling it wouldn’t look as nice on me. My hair texture was simply too different. Still, I was having a great time people-watching. Nothing quite set my heart aflame like seeing happy people in fancy clothes.

As I was giggling to myself, I suddenly locked eyes with a nearby Dragonkin man—ugh, it’s Ray.

He started making his way toward me, and I found myself wondering why he bothered talking to me at all, if he supposedly hated my guts so much.

“Do you not think it a tad creepy, standing alone and laughing to yourself?”

“Oh, shut up,” I shot back, covering my mouth with my hand. “I was just having fun admiring everyone’s hair, that’s all.”

“Their hair? You must be even more of an oddball than I realized during those five days in Myulan.”

So he thought I was an “oddball” from the very beginning?

Ray scanned around the room, frowned in confusion, and looked back at me. “What’s so fun about it?”

“Don’t you see? These women have polished themselves to perfection, just for tonight. They’re like jewels—no two are exactly alike. Sure, some of them are still just diamonds in the rough, but with a slightly more flattering hairstyle, I’m sure they’d sparkle like the rest. Look at that young woman in the red dress; I think she’d look better with a more eye-catching style... Ugh, now I really want to go over there and braid her hair...!”

Right as I squeezed my eyes shut and turned away, however, I heard a tiny laugh beside me. Confused, I looked back at Ray to find him gazing at me with a soft, affectionate smile on his face—almost like we’d gone back to those days we spent together in Myulan, you know, before he decided I wasn’t his Bondmate.

Naturally, I found this rather alarming. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. The classy setting seemed to further accentuate his good looks.

“What’s with the little smile?”

“What smile?” At this, Ray seemed to snap back to his senses. With a hand over his mouth, he continued, “It’s nothing. I was just entertained by your bizarre antics... Anyway, the royal family should be here any moment now.” And with that, he hurried off toward the stage.

Bizarre antics? Speak for yourself, buddy!

But before I could begin to process his comment, the orchestra’s song came to a close, and the guests burst into applause as the King and Queen made their grand entrance. Then, as Prince Dario and Princess Patricia walked in, the applause grew louder still, much to Her Highness’s obvious relief.

Nearby, I could hear some noble ladies talking:

“My, what an adorable little princess!”

“She does seem a bit spoiled, though.”

Evidently the room was a mixed bag of those who approved of her, those who had bought into the rumors, and everyone in between. We’ll just have to give it time, I thought.

“She’s human, but I daresay she looks like a Flowerfolk,” one of the nobles remarked.

“Indeed, she’s quite small and stylish. Fortunate she’s human, too, because a real Flowerfolk would never do. I mean, you’ve read Tales of Tribal Romance, surely?”

“Oh, yes, I have. I quite liked the one about the Merfolk.”

“Likewise. I also enjoyed the one about the human.”

I hadn’t heard of this Tales of Tribal Romance prior to now, but I could only assume it was a Vaxwald thing.

Meanwhile, the nobles’ attention shifted to her hairstyle.

“Look at that hair!”

I braced myself.

“It’s so lovely!”

Yes!

“Everything about it screams Myulan, but I confess I’m rather curious how they do it.”

YES!

Fist-pumping internally, I quietly approached them. I had a goal to achieve, after all.

“Here. This is for you,” I said as I took two sheets from my stack of papers and offered one to each of the women, who appeared to be in their thirties.

I had created a step-by-step guide explaining how to achieve Patricia’s hairstyle, written in layman’s terms, with helpful illustrations for every step. Sketching was a crucial part of my hairstyle design process, and so I was a reasonably competent artist in my own right. This was, of course, done with the full knowledge and consent of His Highness Prince Dario, who kindly made the arrangements to have them copied in bulk in time for the party.

“This pamphlet details Princess Patricia’s current hairstyle. It may be too complicated to achieve on your own, but with the help of a servant, it shouldn’t be an issue,” I explained.

Dubious, the aristocrats took the pamphlets from my hands and stared down at them. “Oh, I see... There aren’t that many steps involved...”

Indeed, the process was fairly straightforward. First, I sectioned off a good-sized chunk of hair on each side of her head. Then I took the remaining hair and tied it up in a high ponytail. From there, I twisted the side hair into crown braids, curling up and around the base of the ponytail while incorporating small strands from the ponytail as I went along. Any excess hair was pinned inside the bun to complete the look.

The end result: a crown-shaped bun with a braid wrapped around it.

“This style will look even more lovely when paired with a Dragonkin’s naturally straight hair. I hope you’ll give it a try; I’m sure it would look great on you.”

“I suppose I’ll need to teach my servant how to braid, then.”

“Your hairstyle is rather fetching, too, if I may say so.”

“I have a pamphlet for mine, too, if you like,” I replied without missing a beat. “You can easily achieve the same look using a hairband.”

I had seen this coming, and so I had mass-copied a how-to guide for my own hairstyle as well. I handed a second pamphlet to each of them; they took it, glanced down at it, then looked back at me.

“Who are you, anyway?”

“I’m the Princess’s personal hairstylist,” I replied with a cheerful smile.

From there, I made my way around the Great Hall, quietly passing out pamphlets to anyone who was interested. Then, before I knew it, the King’s royal speech had ended, Patricia had officially been introduced, and the orchestra had started back up again. The nobles began to drink and talk and dance, many of them crowding around the royal family to get a word in.

Meanwhile, Patricia had stepped down from the stage and was now making the rounds from one end of the room to the other. As she approached, the guests began to notice her hair accessory.

“Oh, my, is that a little dragon? And silver, to boot!”

“Not only that, but the eyes are little gray gems... How very clever.”

Indeed, her hair accessory was shaped like a dragon, subtly curving along the edge of her bun. It was small in size, but the jewels embedded within were enough to attract plenty of attention.

Patricia was so surprised when I first showed it to her a few hours ago. Truth be told, I’d custom-ordered it from my favorite Myulan craftsman before we left for Vaxwald. I figured Prince Dario would find it flattering, and if I was lucky, maybe he’d come to like her even more as a result. After all, though this was purely a political marriage, it certainly couldn’t hurt for the two of them to get along.

Sure enough, His Highness seemed rather pleased indeed. He and Patricia were engaged in a conversation with a noble—perhaps a friend of the family—and Dario was gesturing to the accessory on Patricia’s hair, proudly showing it off. The Princess looked pretty happy about this, too.

Perhaps it was too early to tell if the two of them had a romantic interest in each other, but at the very least, they seemed to enjoy each other’s company. And with time, perhaps that fondness would kindle true love. It was clear from the way he paid no mind to the rumors that Prince Dario was a level-headed man worthy of our Princess. When I first suggested my pamphlet idea, he laughed and said “It’d be hilarious if this starts a new hairstyle trend!”

All in all, I was starting to see why Ray cared for His Highness as strongly as he did. He was still so young, and yet he felt like a true leader. And in turn, I could see how his popularity with the public would cause them to turn a critical eye on his bride-to-be.

I glanced back at them to find that Dario and Patricia had parted ways while I was distracted. Now Patricia was alone, speaking to a middle-aged man with a large and impressive mustache.

At first the conversation was civil, but then...things went south.

“I’ve heard a lot of rumors about you lately. They are just rumors, I hope? Because I’m honestly not sure. But either way, if you’re going to reveal your true colors, I do hope it happens before the wedding ceremony,” the man scoffed.

Nearby, Ray was calmly watching the interaction between them. Is he going to step in if things escalate? And what about Patricia—is she okay?

I could scarcely stay still. Considering how upset she had been to learn about the rumors in the first place, I worried she might break down sobbing...and yet she merely furrowed her brow.

“Truth be told, I was scared to make my debut at this party. I was concerned that everyone might have bought into those blatantly false rumors about me. But you see, His Highness told me ‘anyone so easily duped is not to be trusted in the first place,’ so I shan’t pay your comment any mind.” And with a smile, she walked off.

Meanwhile, I was cheering internally. That’s our Princess!

Fortunately, this man had the sense not to pursue her. Instead, he was flushed red with rage, fuming at the thought that Patricia had bested him in verbal combat. This time it was my turn to speak to him.

“Your Grace?” I called.

He glared down at me. “What?” he spat.

“This is for you to take home. If you have a wife or daughter, they might like to have it.”

“Yes, I have a wife and daughter. What are these?” he demanded, snatching the pamphlets from my hand and staring down at them.

“This one is a how-to guide with instructions on how to create Her Highness’s hairstyle. And as a bonus, this one is a guide for my hairstyle as well.”

“I don’t need this trash! I would never let my wife or daughter wear their hair like that!” He thrust the pamphlets back at me.

“Oh, well, all right. I just thought I’d give it to you, since this style will become a trend soon.” I shot a quick glance around the room, where a lot of the noble ladies were reading the pamphlets with interest. “Hopefully your daughter doesn’t complain that you didn’t bring one home for her. Young people are quick to pick up on new trends, you see.”

I turned to leave, but before I could, the mustachioed man snatched the pamphlets back. “I...I suppose I may as well hang onto it,” he growled.

“Thank you, Your Grace!” I beamed at him, then walked away.

The next thing I knew, Ray was standing next to me—wait, wasn’t he supposed to be guarding Patricia? I shot a hasty glance in her direction and spotted other knights standing in her vicinity.

Meanwhile, Ray seized me by the arm and dragged me over to the wall, his expression severe.

“He’s a nobody, Mayna. He’s not a saint, but he’s not a villain. Just leave him be.”

I was ready for him to launch into some kind of lecture or tirade, but instead he simply sighed. Then his lips curled in a smirk.

“That said, you got him good.”

I smirked back. “I sure did, didn’t I?”