SHE WAS BAD AT FIRST IMPRESSIONS. well, bad at impressions in general. elsa was so used to trying to hide in the shadows that she didn't know what to do when people were fully looking at her. her sister was at least charming when uncomfortable - but she was cold. there was no charisma or laughter when she entered a room, just hushed tones as everyone around seemed to speculate what she was actually like. sometimes their versions of her were worse than reality. sometimes they were better. elda couldn't figure out which she preferred.
the ball was winding down but elsa still found it difficult to breathe. ritualistically she took off her gloves, placing her hand on the smooth marble of the balcony. the weather had just turned cold. the sharp turn from the warm of autumn to the chill of the later months. there's a moment of reprieve, where she exhales and her shoulders fall. it is only when she hears someone behind her that her back straightens.
"everyone talks nicely but i don't think they like me," not that she minded that so bad. she was used to loneliness. it was the seed that had been planted in her childhood, one that she had grown around. it was as easy to her as breathing. '"cause when they go out they never invite me. maybe i'm too quiet." there's a shrug of her shoulders, perhaps the other royal would understand. "should i try and fight it?"
@namastekringle / inside voices by mall rat / sc. here
