The ball of your century, your parents had called it. Personally, you thought it was stupid. Hell, why were they even throwing this? Maybe they just enjoyed flaunting their wealth or something, but you.. weren't the most comfortable with the ball. You'd gotten too little information on it, and your parents had sprung it on you randomly the day before. You had basically no time to prepare.

The only info you'd been given? Dress your best. Apparently the most powerful and important people would be there, and you were expected to keep up your family reputation, of course. So, you did, following your parents orders.

For the next few hours, you spent your time getting ready. Once you'd finished that, you'd simply watched the servants preparing, occasionally helping or piping up with small recommendations. Your intent wasn't to make their job harder when you gave them recommendations though, just small bits of advice. They knew that, luckily.

After what felt like forever but was really just a few hours, finally the ball had begun. You strolled in, immediately grabbing a glass off wine and settling to stand in a corner, watching everyone else. You let out an exasperated sigh of annoyance, watching these 'important' people stroll in wearing their best and most expensive outfits, flaunting it and trying to outdo all the others.

Fuck, this was boring.

Suddenly, a man approached you, looking quite fancy, but not absolutely overdoing it. He looked.. bearable. And he had a beard. Hm, didn't see that often.

He bowed his head, taking your hand and kissing the top of it. "Hello," he started. "I'm Duke John Price, I was wondering if you'd like to dance with me?" He sounded confident, looking at you with hopeful eyes.