Saturday arrived quicker than expected. Mother had everything perfect. The floor was as polished as a mirror, all fireplaces were scrubbed clean, the most important people were coming(rumour had it that even the king himself would be staying the weekend) and the house smelled of comforting cinnamon and vanilla. Pine cone, bells, and candles decked the halls(I'm hilarious) and garlands and wreaths were so plentiful the house unintentionally smelt like pine. A pianist, several violinists, and several trombone players were hired. It seemed like a movie set.

It was such a merry atmosphere that made Christmas spirit hang heavy in the air with the backdrop of anxiety and stress. People ran around, Mother screeching at servants when something was less than perfection. I don't know who she was trying to impress; her returning husband or King George II.

I was mainly trying to avoid everyone as much as possible. I didn't want to get roped into doing some last minute preparations. I only had about an hour left before having to prepare for the party. I sat in the library, the only quiet room left in the bathroom. I was enthralled in my favourite book, The Adventures of Peregrine Pickle; an egotistical man who experiences bad luck and misfortune in current society. It has a cruel humour which I have to admit I am drawn to. It took me awhile to figure out the language of the book, but now that I have gotten it, I've read this book 5 times.

I groaned internally as Margaret walked into the room. She is my cousin and all and I love her but... she's one of those people that are always always in a good mood and ready to talk. I just sort of want to read my book right now. "Ellie, are you ready for the party?!" She asked as she plopped into the chair beside me. Sighing I marked my page and put the book down.

"No, not at the moment but I will be getting ready for it later," I sighed looking out the window at the thick snow outside. Maybe I should go build a snowman. Mother would not be pleased...

"I do not mean physically. I would not be either than. I meant ready for the music, and the important people and the food..." She trailed off whistfully.

"We won't be able to eat much, Margaret. Remember how tight our evening corsets are?" I said bitterely, I'm still upset that I didn't get to finish my chapter.

"I can taste it at least..." She said sadly. She leaned in closer, her mind obviously already onto the next topic, "The King I heard is bringing his son, eighteen years old and I have heard he is very intelligent. But even more importantly he is still looking for a wife. It just so happens I am looking for a husband."

"You really think you'll be able to snare the future king?" I said skeptically.

"You never know what events may happen under the siren's call," she said with a smirk.

"Oh, so you are a siren now?" I smirked,"What about that secret peasant guy you were courting?"

She shook her head from side to side thinking, "Well I am rather fond of him but really what style of life can he provide? A king though... I could get used to that kind of luxury!" She laughed sticking her arm out to admire a rather intricate bracelet, "I am a woman who requires a certain finesse in life."

"If you become the queen I expect lavish gifts to your favourite cousin," I chortled. "And where did you get that bracelet, it's a bit expensive for an everyday wear."

"My mother gave it to me along with a necklace and earrings that match. She told me ' Margarite, utilise seulement ces pour attraper un mari.' Which meant only use these to catch yourself a husband. I guess today is as good of a day as any." She giggled.

"Well then I think you should get ready now. You need the extra time if you are to impress the crown prince." I said trying hard to make her leave so I can continue reading.

"Oh we must get ready together! Come, let us go!" She announced whipping me out of my chair with unexpected strength.

Hours later, I was more fabric and powder than I was person. I felt ridiculous as I always do in this fashion. Margaret was ecstatic. Standing in front of the mirror practicing her smile and conversation topics, 'oh have you been to Germany?' 'I think that shakespeare is only popular with the youth because of the tragic tones to most of the plays and the current tragic tone of the current world views of Britain, oh you disagree? Elaborate, you are probably correct,' 'Christmas is one of the best times of the year, do you agree?' 'oh what do you enjoy in your freetime?' Most of her conversation starters were to either make her appear intelligent, royal, or to get him to talk about himself. Knowing Margaret this Prince stood no chance, if she wanted to marry him, someone better get the wedding bells ready.

Being around Margaret and her enthusiasm is infectious. By the time the guests had begun to arrive I hopping excited. I may not love the makeup or the hairstyles but I can't help think that I looked kind of awesome. I looked like a typical lady; elegant and beautiful. But in no way delicate. Just because I am a Lady in the 1700s I am not giving up my feminism views. That may be the only positive thing to come out of my delusions. I feel like I have better control over my life now.

Margaret paced the room restlessly, every few steps turning to the mirror to adjust something of hers. Her shoes clacking on the hard wood floor and her floor length purple dress swishing constantly on the floor made me want to pull my hair out. Her dress was a bright shade of purple and must have been extremely expensive. Her dress had to be purple, it was a royal colour after all. "Will you stand still for a moment. I know you are anxious. I am too! But you are driving me insane!"

"Sorry, I-I've got to be perfect," She stuttered. Just then the maid that had been assisting us the past few hours walked in. Margaret stopped and wheeled around on her heel to face her. "Have they arrived yet?!"

The maid shook her head, "I am sorry my lady but the King and his son have not arrived yet. All of the other guests have arrived although."

"Well go wait for them. Do not come back until they are here!" Margaret ordered her and then immediately went back to pacing. It's been a half an hour, if they haven't arrived yet, perhaps they will not come at all. Margaret wanted to make a grand dramatic entrance as to attract the attention of the prince. I don't care. Plus I want to join the party, I can here the music and chatter from here. Also after this much work getting ready I want at least a few people to see me.

"Maybe we should just go to the party now. We're going to miss the best of it," I complained to Margaret.

"Please Ellie, just a few more minutes. Please," she begged looking very worried.

I sighed, it can't hurt to wait a few more minutes. But then I'm going downstairs whether she likes it or not. "Alright, we will wait ten more minutes then I'm going whether you like it or not."

At about 7 minutes, the maid scurried back in. "They have just arrived. They are being welcomed in as we speak."

Margaret turned to face me, aghast, "Do I look alright!"

I laughed, "Yes you look fine. Let's just go already." I turned to the maid, "Could you get the butler to announce our entrance?"

"Of course, my lady," she said quickly bowing as she walked out the door. We walked to the top of the staircase, waiting behind the wall until we are announced. My heart beat quickly as it always does before having a lot of attention focused on me.

"The Ladies of the house; Dame Margaret Dufort and Lady Elizabeth Warlest!" The butler announced to the party goers. I felt my cheeks burn as I walked out from behind the wall after Margaret. At least I had enough white powder on that people wouldn't be able to see my red face. Margaret smiled beautifully and gracefully descended the stairs like a princess in a movie. I tried to do the same but my muscles in my face kept twitching as I tried to maintain the smile and I kept stepping on my dress. I was immediately able to spot the king and prince. The king was an old man with a constantly done-with-this-shit expression. He was decked in bright coloured satiny fabric, furs, and jewelry that made his body seem larger than what it obviously was. His son was dressed in a similar manner only stripped of the many layers of fur and fabric, only having one of each. He had thick almost girlish lips and a softly rounded face and of course like everyone else stark white curled hair. He watched us descend the stairs with a focused and intrigued look. I shivered. It wasn't a predatorial look like some of the catcallers I've seen but colder. It was a calculating and probing look. Like he wanted to know your weaknesses so he could use them. But Margaret smiled at him with her sweet smile. To my amazement he gave her a small smile in return. He elegantly waded through the crowd, his head held high, to the bottom of the staircase.

He took her hand as she reached the bottom steps and leaned over her hand brushing it with his lips. She curtsied smiling flirtaciously. She stepped aside to allow the prince to greet me as well. As he leaned in close I could smell his breath. It smelled like quail. I wanted to barf. As soon as he was done greeting me, I discreetly wiped my hand on the back of my dress. Margaret immediately started up a conversation with him and drew him into a quieter area of the party. I could smell the food and I hadn't eaten since breakfast, so that's where I was heading. It took me nearly half an hour to make it across the room to the buffet table as people kept stopping me to either talk about my father or husband. They never asked me how I was though. Finally with food in hand, I made my way to the live music. It was a beautiful piece whatever they were playing with delicate magical sounding parts into roaring thunderous quick paced parts. I spotted the prince and Margaret in the corner. They were standing close together politely laughing together. I rolled my eyes, Margaret has laid out her trap.

I heard the front door slam shut. "Now what is this?!" Said a man's voice filled with delight. "This would not happen to be for me would it?"

I think my father has returned. I made my way back through the crowd, stuffing the last bit of food in my mouth. Father was rough looking. His clothes were dirty, a bit torn, and his hair was not powdered or curled but only tied in a low pony with a bow. His eyes were tired but he beamed a smile anyway. I pushed past the last of the crowd to greet my father. I will do this quickly and get it over with.

"Father, welcome home. Did you-"

"Bring you a gift? Of course Elizabeth. Where is Abraham, I need him to approve the gift first." He said without glancing at me, his eyes were fixated on the figure of the king.

"Well I was going to ask you if your journey was well. Also Abe is away at war right now. Does he really have to approve a gift?" I scoffed.

"Oh that is a shame," He said very obviously not hearing anything I said. He's been gone for several months. You would think he would be more excited to see his daughter. "Would that happen to be King George over there?"

"I think you already know it is," I said irritated, same old Father as always.

"Very good talking to you, Elizabeth. I believe I must go greet our guests," He declared before making a beeline for the king. It should have hurt being brushed off so roughly by my own father, but honestly he's not a good guy and I don't care.

All my excitement wore off quickly. I had politely chatted with all the interesting guests (there were only a few), eaten until my corset was tight (about two buns) and the songs the band were playing were beginning to repeat. I had hoped to spend the majority of the party with Margaret, but she was still flirting with the prince. My feet were tired, my ribs sore, and the makeup on my face felt sweaty and thick. Nobody was really looking to talk to me anymore, they wouldn't noticed if I happened to slip upstairs.

I slipped through the crowd, heading toward the kitchen. I will use the servant staircase so I will not have to face the sudden "Oh where are you going?" or "please stay." The staircase was hidden behind a flimsy door in the kitchen. It was not fancy like the grand staircase in the entrance hall. It was made of unfinished wood that had become shiny with use. It creaked as you walked up it and was always cold and unlit. But I used this one more than the grand staircase. At first the servants were angered by my constant use of them. When I walked in their conversations would abruptly stop and they'd glare at me until I was gone. But now they greet me and sometimes invite me into their conversations. I know the workers in this house better than my own family.

As I stepped into the staircase, I sighed, leaning against the wall and taking my shoes off. The shoes worn in this decade or century seemed to be the smallest you could wear while still being able to walk. I am a size nine for women's shoes, these were probably a seven if not smaller. So yeah, my biggest relief of the day wasn't taking off my corset(although that was the other one), it is taking off my shoes. I continue walking up the staircase, taking small breaks in between to catch my breath. Corsets made it very hard to breathe properly.

Finally after another half an hour to disrobe and another hour to bathe myself until the powder was gone from my hair. Although my hair still did feel grainy even after washing. I felt clean(ish) and ready for bed. So barefoot and in my nightgown, I left the bathroom with the image of my bed in my mind. But as soon as I opened the door I ran straight into someone.

I looked up and gasped. There was Abe standing right in front of me rubbing the spot on his nose where my forehead had smacked into it. "Abe?!"

He looked affronted and took two quick steps back, in a very un-Abelike manner, "Oh! What? No! No I get how you could see that, but I am not-" He adjusted his clothes and stood up straighter, "I am Charles Warlest. Abraham's older brother. Sorry about that incident. And you are?"

"Elizabeth Warlest. And indecent!" I declared to my brother in law. He seemed to just realize that I was in my nightwear. He went very red in the face and turned around quickly.

"I was hoping to see you downstairs but no one seemed to know where you were. I was hoping to meet my sister-in-law," Charles said facing the wall.

"By literally running into me in the bathroom? Besides why would you want to meet me? I thought the entire family has cast Abe out?" I asked stiffly.

"That was my parents' decision. Not mine. I would have come to see you sooner but I just got back from Italy. I did not know that Abe had been recruited, someone downstairs told me. How long has he been gone?" He asked concerned.

"Almost two months now," I replied. As I talked to him, I began to see more and more differences from Abe. Charlie was taller and obviously older than Abe. His hair was darker, a chestnut brown instead of a fawn. He stood with his weight on one foot, so he leaned slightly to the right. Abe always stood perfectly straight.

"Already two months! Abraham should have written me! I would have came immediately. Have you been alone with your servants in your house all this time?" He exclaimed.

"I haven't been alone. I live with my Mother and cousin as well. So I have been fine," I reassured him. He was overly concerned with my wellbeing for only just meeting me. I don't even consider someone a friend until a few months later.

"Do you mean my brother has not yet bought you an estate?" he said baffled.

"Well your parents kind of cut him off and then he had to go to war. There wasn't a lot of time to do anything," I said defensively.

"Well I inherited all of Abraham's money, it is only fair I help the both of you out," he said kindly.

Oh, so is that what he is doing. Came here to get all buddy buddy with his brother's stupid wife. Then offer to help us out money-wise and then later tell us we owe him something. Or we need to pay him back. I don't think so. "Actually I think we're good, Charlie. But thanks. We've got a few things in the works." I said coldly.

"Oh what do you have in the works?" he asked curiously. He wants to know. If I tell him about the property that Abe is planning to partner with my father in I bet the next day it would be mysteriously be sold to one Sir Charlie Warlest.

"I have to go to bed now, Charlie," I said emotionless, pushing past him down the hallway. I said without looking over my shoulder, "Hope you can find your way back downstairs to the party safely." He stood there watching me walk away before I heard him turn and his shoes clack all the way to the staircase.

Usually I read before bed for an hour but tonight I climbed straight into bed. As I fell asleep I could still here the music and talking for the party. I didn't feel like I was missing out though.