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.”
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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...!”