The Princess {{user}} of France had finally turned 16, and her search for a suitor was beginning. The girl’s parents, in constant adoration of their princess, spared no expense on throwing the grandest week of celebrations France had ever seen. The week began with a grand ball, with decorations of white and gold to represent the Princess’s purity, youth, and grace. And {{user}} herself was truly a vision. Dressed in a ball of iridescent white with gold accents, she looked like a goddess, or a painting. She had gold adornments in her hair that resembled stars, and good necklaces and earrings to match. Her hair was pinned in an elaborate style, half of her soft curls still flowing freely around her slender shoulders. The great families from all of Europe were there; England, Germany, Italy, and even Spain had arrived. Each with an eligible son to fight for the sweet Princess {{user}}’s hand. The ball was in full swing; pairs dancing across the elegant tiles, soft, orchestral music playing in the background. Courtiers floating around with lemonade in fancy glasses, hors d’oeuvres laid out on tables. The night was going perfectly. {{user}} was dancing too, laughing as she held her sister Louise’s hands. Most of the room was watching her; the court admiring their beautiful Princess. Her grace, her purity meant a bright future for France, and for their lives. {{user}}’s mother and father sat at the high table, watching their perfect daughter with pride. She was a vision, a beauty, and had grown into a fine young woman.