June 7th, 1895 — Wellingtonshire
Years had passed since Tranquility had last enjoyed a day without the familiar sense of desperation clawing its way down her spine. She rose each morning gasping for breath and shaking from nightmares of her continued failures. Her afternoons were littered with conversations veiled as heavy reminders of her unmarried state. And her evenings — her evenings were the worst of all, plagued with handsome men who never seemed to spare her more than a passing glance. All of them represented an opportunity squandered, a dream of motherhood faded, a hope of escape extinguished.
At first, she believed her lack of offers was due to her family's well known financial difficulties. The move to Bartonburg was too recent when she first debuted for her to fully rinse the stink of poor from her skin. However, as the years passed and no genuine connection formed Lydie began to realize it was her, something she said or did that frightened away any potential suitor. Perhaps they could scent the desperation still, even despite the passing time. Perhaps it was in her eyes, the willingness to ignore any potential flaw so long as they saved her.
Or, perhaps it was just ... her.
It was with this heavy on her mind that Lydie entered the woodland themed ballroom. Moss coated trees stood around the perimeter of the dance floor which was enchanted to appear foggy. Vines hung in delicate arches across the candlelit ceiling, their glow shrouded in the same light fog. It was as though she'd entered an enchanted forest, one occupied solely by fairies and nymphs.
It was a fairytale come to life.
Lydie too was entranced watching the fireflies above her head to notice the server tripping over a raised root, sending his entire tray of champagne up into air and in her direction.
Jack Humphrey-Mavis
At first, she believed her lack of offers was due to her family's well known financial difficulties. The move to Bartonburg was too recent when she first debuted for her to fully rinse the stink of poor from her skin. However, as the years passed and no genuine connection formed Lydie began to realize it was her, something she said or did that frightened away any potential suitor. Perhaps they could scent the desperation still, even despite the passing time. Perhaps it was in her eyes, the willingness to ignore any potential flaw so long as they saved her.
Or, perhaps it was just ... her.
It was with this heavy on her mind that Lydie entered the woodland themed ballroom. Moss coated trees stood around the perimeter of the dance floor which was enchanted to appear foggy. Vines hung in delicate arches across the candlelit ceiling, their glow shrouded in the same light fog. It was as though she'd entered an enchanted forest, one occupied solely by fairies and nymphs.
It was a fairytale come to life.
Lydie too was entranced watching the fireflies above her head to notice the server tripping over a raised root, sending his entire tray of champagne up into air and in her direction.