Chapter 2
EMILY
The grandeur of our mansion suffocates me as I navigate its marble corridors, each step echoing in the vastness of the opulent space.
My mother's voice, shrill and commanding, follows me like a relentless shadow as she lectures me on the intricacies of the London Season. The impending debutante ball sounds like something straight out of the eighteen hundreds, and indeed, that’s precisely what it is. The annual event would have died a death a long time ago if I’d had anything to do with it, but like it or not, I will be formally presented to the King and Queen next week.
When we enter my dressing room, she gestures toward the array of gowns laid out for me to try on.
"Emily, darling, you simply must make a good impression at the ball. It's your chance to shine, to catch the eye of an eligible bachelor," she chirps, her excitement palpable.
I force a polite smile, my heart heavy with reluctance.
"I appreciate your enthusiasm, Mama, but I'm not sure if this ball is really right for me."
Her eyes widen in disbelief as her grip tightens on the string of pearls around her neck.
"Not for you? Nonsense, Emily! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You're one of only twenty-two girls chosen to debut at the ball. It's a tremendous honor to be introduced to the King and Queen, and it’s the first time in a long while that Their Majesties are doing these presentations. Besides, you could meet your future husband there."
I suppress a sigh. The burden of expectation is pressing down on me like a weighted blanket. I wish it was a blanket because then I could hide my head under it and disappear.
"But, Mama, I don't want to waste my time searching for a husband. I’m only nineteen. I want something more out of life, something... adventurous."
Her laughter rings out like shattering crystal, sharp and mocking.
"Adventurous, my dear? What could be more adventurous than being swept off your feet by a handsome suitor? You might even end up living happily ever after in a fairy-tale castle."
Before I can respond and point out I’m not Cinderella, she launches into a monologue about the preparations that need to be done to ensure my success as a debutante. Her words are a dizzying whirlwind of invitations, fittings, and social obligations. I nod dutifully, my mind wandering to the freedom of the open road, to the feel of the wind in my hair and the thrill of the unknown.
I would rather be anywhere than here in this mansion, trying on outfits and barely eating so I can fit into them. I wonder what it would be like to go to university. What would it be like to have a job? Maybe I could work in a coffee shop. I love coffee, and I’m good at making it, when the kitchen staff allow me. I could be a barista.
Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply and try to shut out my mother’s words as she gives me another lecture on the skin routine I should be employing to enhance my complexion.
"I need some fresh air, Mama," I finally interject, slipping on my running shoes and grabbing my headphones. I was already dressed in my running gear prior to my mother accosting me for the hundredth time. "I'm going for a run. It’s a good way to keep my weight down and look toned in those outfits you’ve selected for me," I inform her, framing it in a way that I know will appeal to her.
She instantly smiles and nods her agreement.
“Don’t be too long, though. We’ve still got so much left to do.”
When I step out into the crisp afternoon air, the weight of expectation falls away, replaced by the exhilarating rush of freedom as I start to run. I lose myself in the rhythm of my footsteps while the pulsing bass of ‘Vampire’ by Olivia Rodriquez drowns out the pounding of my heart.
But even as I flee the suffocating embrace of my mother's expectations, the looming specter of the debutante ball still hangs over me like a dark cloud. I can't escape the feeling that my fate has already been decided, and my life is little more than a scripted performance acted out in a gilded cage.
As I run along the winding roads of the Derbyshire Dales, I can't help but yearn for something more, something beyond the confines of my privileged upbringing. It’ll never happen, though.
It’s time to accept my fate and stop dreaming.