winter ball
main ballroom
marguerite with @gllded
marguerite had long hated the phrase what a small world. even from the time she was a child, she had grown upset at the idea that the earth -- the only thing they had -- was tiny enough to warrant such an expression. she wanted grandeur, she wanted largesse, she wanted unexplored places and nooks to hide when she felt like it. and yet if you stood in genovia’s grand ballroom right at this moment and time, perhaps the phrase would have been excusable, even to her. in the least, science could concede that the epicentre of the world had shifted. and naturally, with it, marguerite grimaldi and madeline baek had once more slid -- like marbles, like magnets -- to the centre of the board. both gravitating to the princess in a crown at the top of the staircase.
she hadn’t known her ex -- ex-lover, ex-girlfriend, ex-something -- had been in the palace confines, but hearing her name announced by the staff upon arrival had been like dropping something down marguerite’s dress: no matter how she moved, she was aware it was there. and she had such a need to pull it out and take a look.
“well.” her hand slides up madeline’s back as she rounds from behind her, having made her way from across the room. old familiarities die hard. “i always knew we had similar taste.”