@violenceinherent
An evening party in the Estate District, held mid-season, in summer.
Light sparkled through the chandelier, turning the crystal-cluster into a constellation against the dark drapery that covered the ceiling. A slow wheel of people revolved through six grandly decorated drawing-rooms, each one decorated in a different color scheme. The bright colors and expensive fabrics of their clothes sparkled and flashed just as brightly as the chandelier. Silken jackets, velvet trousers, high heels studded with diamonds, and prized necklaces of pearls wound around pale necks, and the men regal in sober colors of fabrics just as rich, though none of them, Lea privately thought, were half so beautiful as the women in the room.
Perched on a green velvet couch in a room with green, leaf-patterned walls and bookshelves and trimmings of rich, dark brown wood, Lea sipped from a glass of fruit punch (barely touched it, truly; it was too sweet for her) and exchanged light conversation with those of her mother’s acquaintances who came to speak with her.
When no one came to speak to her, her gaze roamed. Oh, she tried to examine the men, their clothes, their looks, the way they spoke to others, the way others spoke to them, to assess who might be worthy of her acquaintance, but her gaze, one way or another, returned to admiring the beautiful clothes of the young women, the way a strand of pearls peeped beneath lace that clung to slender neck, the way one laughed, floating as she walked on shimmering heels to meet an acquaintance. Gentle, sighing envy brushed her heart. Perhaps it was the way they walked that drew men to them. It drew her.
She rose, intending to find her sister and retire with her to a garden or somewhere more out-of-the-way where they could confer. Her own heels, rather low compared to some she regarded with slight envy, were muffled into low, nearly inaudible clunks by the carpet. Hold your head up, steady your chin, but not so high your nose is pointed anywhere but ahead. Loose shoulders, smile, smile, smile.
She paused in the foremost drawing room, inspecting the crowd for her sister’s outfit, a pale blue confection that might be considered demure compared to the flashy sets filling the room. She found no sign of her, and lingered a moment, looking over the people in the room.