.•° ✿ °•.

"Yes?" I responded hesitantly, unsure of what these women wanted.

"You are Rosalie Alcott, yes? The imprisoned French soldier?" she questioned.

"I am her. Though, as you can see, no longer imprisoned." I said flatly.

"How dare you take that tone with her ladyship!" another woman frowned.

"Ladyship? Who exactly are you?" I asked.

"How impertinent! I am Clara Collins, daughter of Baron Collins of Ivywood Estate." she said, as though the title made her better than everyone else, "You must know, the richest and most powerful family in all of Europe?"

"I do humbly apologize, but I haven't the faintest idea who you, or your father are, nor do I recognize your Estate." I said, my tone indifferent as I tried to hold back laughter at the young woman's arrogance, one that I was baffled to find was greater than the King's.

"Whatever do you find to be so amusing, Miss Alcott?" an elderly woman demanded.

"Nothing, nothing at all, Miss." I said, failing to keep back a small smile.

"Well if anyone deserves humiliation and ridicule, it's you. A French soldier, a female French soldier. Tch, how improper. And a mistress! I daresay the King has gone mad." she scoffed, and I felt the slightest tinge of anger at her speaking of the King so.

"Rosalie." I turned, to see Anthony beckoning me over.

"Well if all you wanted was confirmation of my identity, you have gotten it. Am I permitted to leave, then?" I asked.

"Please do. I don't think I can stand to look upon your disgraceful self any longer." Clara spat, reseating herself.

I gratefully left the room, retreating to the adjoining ballroom with Anthony.

"What is it?" I questioned.

"Nothing in particular, you just looked as though you were in an uncomfortable situation." he smiled, "I was just stopping in to make sure my floral arrangments are still intact."

"And thank God you did. I was about to hit that woman. I don't know how the servants and King put up with these people." I shook my head, laughing.

"We barely do." he chuckled, before waving me goodbye, "I'll see you after Rosalie."

After bidding Anthony goodbye, I cautiously retreated to the corner, content to watch the ball rather than participate in it. Looking around, I saw another man, who appeared just as uncomfortable as I, in the corner opposite me. His gaze lifted and he caught my stare. I shot him a smile, and he returned it, and so I took that as an invitation to make my way over to him.

"Hello." I greeted him, somewhat awkwardly, to which he nodded his head.

"I thought that perhaps we could be social exiles together. What say you?" I asked jokingly.

"I think that's a desirable alternative to being a social exile alone." he chuckled, shaking my hand "I'm Samuel. Samuel Seabury"

"I'm Rosalie Alcott." I smiled.

"The French soldier?" he asked.

"It would seem my title follows me everywhere. But I suppose I prefer that to mistress." I said halfheartedly, preparing myself to be belittled again, like Clara had done.

"Oh, I wouldn't think any less of you because of it. In fact, I bid you tell me about France, I've always wished to visit it." he said, his brown eyes lighting up.

"Well, I didn't have the most... Fortunate, childhood. I never really saw the better parts of France growing up. But I can tell you for certain, the alcohol there puts all others to shame." I laughed.

"Perhaps I will try it one day." he said, folding his arms.

"A wise decision." I smiled, "Tell me of Britain then? What makes it so... How you say, formidable?"

"Uh... Its tea, I suppose?" he laughed, "To be frank, it isn't that interesting a place."

"And have you ever been anywhere more interesting?" I asked.

"Yes, to America... I'm actually headed back in a weeks time." he sighed.

"And does this upset you?"

"Only slightly." he responded.

"How so?"

"I had an unpleasant encounter with some revolutionists who disparaged me in front of a crowd the last time I went on revolutionary war business." he responded.

"That is indeed unfortunate. And you fear they or some other revolutionists might somehow find you, and do the same once more?" I asked.

"I do." he noded.

"Well, though I don't agree with your cause in the slightest, and I would be out there fighting it right now if I weren't being forced to remain here, I do advise that if you believe in your cause, then you should voice it wholeheartedly. Passion will always win over a crowd."

"Thanks... I'll keep that in mind." he said, his voice slowly getting softer as something caught his eye.

I followed his gaze to see him eyeing Trinity from afar. I cocked an eyebrow, getting the sense that perhaps tea wasn't the only thing keeping Samuel in England.

"So... Trinity?" I asked smugly, causing Samuel's head to whip back around to face me.

"What!? I didn't - I don't-" he fumbled over his words as a blush crept onto his face.

"It's alright, Samuel. The two of us are practically best friends already, you can tell me."

"...I've known her for years, she's always seen me as a friend. I don't see why that has to end. I wouldn't dare to ruin our friendship over my feelings that she likely doesn't reciprocate." he trailed off, not meeting my gaze.

"Would you like me to ask her opinion of you?" I said.

"Would you?" his face lit up.

"Of course." I replied, making my way over to her.

"No!" he grabbed my arm, "Not now... Perhaps... After I've gone?" he said, embarrassed.

"...Seriously?" I rolled my eyes, "I suppose if that's what you want."

The guests applauded at the conclusion of a song, before the orchestra began another.

"Do you dance?" I asked.

"Not well." he replied.

"Well, I bet you anything that I'm worse, how about we give it a try?" I extended m arm, inviting him to emerge from his reclusive corner.

"Why not?" he shrugged, accepting my arm, as I led him out onto the ballroom floor.

If I didn't make a fool of myself before, I surely had this time. Amidst the stares and whispers of the more refined guests, Samuel and I laughed, as we continued to horribly execute the dance.

"So when did you begin dancing?" he asked.

"Just this evening actually." I responded, earning a chuckle, "And you?"

"I had lessons as a boy, I just never really took to it."

"That's certainly plain to see." I laughed.

"I can't quite take that as an insult, coming from a dancer so horrible as yourself." he playfully retorted.

"Haha." I smiled, as we continued to step on each other's feet, and bump into other couples.

"Well, this has been fun. It was a pleasure meeting you!" Samuel bid my goodbye after the dance had come to an end.

"You too." I waved.

I paced the ballroom alone after that, unable to find Anne, Alice, Fran, Trinity, or even the King. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I turned to find a middle-aged man, his ebony hair slicked back, and his spectacles glinting in the light of the chandelier.

"Good evening Miss Alcott." he nodded his head.

"Good evening. I don't think we've been introduced." I bowed to the man, not wanting to offend somebody else after underestimating their status.

"Baron Collins." he said shortly, lifting his arm, "Might I have the next dance?"

"I-I suppose." I answered hesitantly, I could not refuse, else I'd have his entire family hating me by the end of the night, "Though I must warn you, I'm a terrible dancer."

"I'm aware, I witnessed the undignified spectacle you and that Seabury fellow put on a moment ago." he scoffed.

I bit back my words, as he led me onto the ballroom floor. We danced in silence for only a moment, before I broke the silence with a question.

"So, what exactly is it you wish to speak to me about?" I asked, knowing the man had ulterior motives.

"What makes you say that?" he quirked an eyebrow.

"A high-class gentleman such as yourself, asking a French soldier and mistress such as myself, to dance, simply for the fun of it? Highly unlikely." I retorted.

"Perceptive, are you?" he loomed over me, "Very well. My daughter, Clara, seeks the King's hand in marriage. Although they aren't yet betrothed, they soon will be. I only wanted to warn you, that should you let your feelings for the King get in the way of that, the repercussions would be..." he lowered his head, his mouth beside my ear, before muttering in a whisper, "Unpleasant."

"And I must inform you that my feelings for the King are nonexistent, Sir. As soon as the King is married, I shall be cast out, and I am perfectly happy to be on my way after that." I responded, before pulling away from the man, "I trust we've both made ourselves clear."

"Indeed." he nodded, and the two of us parted ways.

As I slouched against the wall, I wondered how many enemies I'd made that day. I was sure Clara was not the only one pining for the King's hand. How many other families wanted me out of the picture? I sighed, examining the room for anyone familiar, finding myself almost hoping to see the King.

"Looking for someone?"

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