01-03-2026, 01:00 PM
Ellie’s hands, usually roughened by scrubbing and mending felt impossibly smooth as she felt the unfamiliar satin of the dress. Lady Catherine had chosen a gown of deep emerald green, a shade Ellie adored, now fastened tightly to her form. Devotees of fashion might condescend the girl for being out of style, but to Ellie, it was the finest dress she had worn.
Snippets of the many instructions from her benefactor, delivered with the precise, clipped tones of the upper classes, echoed in her ears: "Smile, Ellie... Nod thoughtfully.....Never interrupt. And for heaven's sake, don't shout." Ellie, caught between a flutter of nerves and a dizzying sense of wonder. Either that or it was her corset cutting off the air supply to her brain. If it was the latter, she would die pretty at least.
Ellie managed to steal glances inside the ballroom, rich emerald and crimson tapestries cascaded from the walls, as shimmering silver and gleaming gold festoons, interwoven with prickly holly and symbolic mistletoe, formed an intricate lattice above. The light from the grand twin chandeliers was subdued, yet along the perimeter, a multitude of lanterns blazed with a vibrant cheer. The air was a mixture of greenery, tobacco, and perfume. Her designated post at the ticket table felt both like a position of honor and a strangely exposed perch, a tiny island of ordinariness adrift in a sea of opulence.
She offered a soft smile to the arriving guests, her heart thumping a nervous rhythm against her ribs. Each passing face, some framed by jewels, others by smart hairstyles, felt like an indictment of her own simple origins, a reminder of the chasm that separated her from this glittering world. Though the less fortunate were invited tonight, the drunken fisherman's XI had yet to break down the front door. Still, even with only the rich, and the sort-of-rich in attendance, Ellie had a sense that for this one night, she was allowed to trespass, to breathe the same rarefied air as they, even if only as an observer.
Snippets of the many instructions from her benefactor, delivered with the precise, clipped tones of the upper classes, echoed in her ears: "Smile, Ellie... Nod thoughtfully.....Never interrupt. And for heaven's sake, don't shout." Ellie, caught between a flutter of nerves and a dizzying sense of wonder. Either that or it was her corset cutting off the air supply to her brain. If it was the latter, she would die pretty at least.
Ellie managed to steal glances inside the ballroom, rich emerald and crimson tapestries cascaded from the walls, as shimmering silver and gleaming gold festoons, interwoven with prickly holly and symbolic mistletoe, formed an intricate lattice above. The light from the grand twin chandeliers was subdued, yet along the perimeter, a multitude of lanterns blazed with a vibrant cheer. The air was a mixture of greenery, tobacco, and perfume. Her designated post at the ticket table felt both like a position of honor and a strangely exposed perch, a tiny island of ordinariness adrift in a sea of opulence.
She offered a soft smile to the arriving guests, her heart thumping a nervous rhythm against her ribs. Each passing face, some framed by jewels, others by smart hairstyles, felt like an indictment of her own simple origins, a reminder of the chasm that separated her from this glittering world. Though the less fortunate were invited tonight, the drunken fisherman's XI had yet to break down the front door. Still, even with only the rich, and the sort-of-rich in attendance, Ellie had a sense that for this one night, she was allowed to trespass, to breathe the same rarefied air as they, even if only as an observer.
