The queen stood in the foyer of the castle, feeling bare without her crown. She wore a green dress with a black apron tied to her skirt, a few flecks of gold on the hem of her skirt, and on her bodice. She wore no gloves, flats instead of heels, and few pieces of jewelry. She wore her bracelet, a pendant from her father, and her engagement ring from her king. The queen kept retying her apron, fearful that the bow didn't look good. The apron began at the waste line of her dress and ended a bit before the end of her skirt. She pressed her hand over the black cloth tied over her hair, missing the weight of her crown.. She was nervous for the outing, she was very nervous.

You twist your bracelet around your wrist, waiting for Timothée. You felt bare without your glitz and glam. You tap your feet anxiously, you were so nervous, not used to the unplanned night. There's a loud creak from the corner of the loud room. You press your fingertips to your lips at the sight of the man walking from the big doors that lead to another room. He looked...Hot. Green slacks, black shoes, a funny white head piece that so many men wore in the South. Sitting atop his crazy hair, two thick white strings dangle down onto the black coloured shirt he adjusted the cuffs of as he walked. Rolling them up to his elbows and then rolling them into a cuff. He swats at his hair which is crazy. And not his usual hair which is more like restricted, planned. His hair was product-less and untamed completely. It was curlier than it usually was, and waved in every direction. He looks up at you and smiles slightly. You puff your cheeks out, shocked by the way he looked.

You walk outside of the castle and climb into a carriage. It pulls into the village, and stops just after the first street. You climb out of the shuttle, Timothée following you out. You walk down the block in silence with Timothée, your flats tapping against the cobblestone. Once you're closer to the building you can hear the loud jazz music. It sounded very upbeat and warm. Eventually you can see the loud, bright pub. Warm lights spill out onto the sidewalk and you stare at the welcoming building, thrilled to be going inside. You hurry your pace and tap your feet anxiously by the door. You didn't often like to go out but you were so excited. And Timothée was taking his sweet time walking towards you. He opens the door for you and as soon as the atmosphere of the room hits you, your anxiousness hits you like a brick wall. You shy away from the opening. Timothée plants his hand in the centre of your back and shoves you in. You stumble in and are immediately engulfed in the crowd. People in every direction and you couldn't move without bumping into someone. You rise onto your tiptoes, looking for Timothée. Your key giveaway was gone, and without the gold atop his head you couldn't spot him, you spin a circle and remain unable to find him.

He appears by your side and you feel relieved as soon as you notice his presence. "Do you want something to drink?" He calls over the loud music and chatter of people.

You shouldn't, you had only ever had champagne. Never drinks from a pub. Who knew what could happen if you drank? You could make a fool of yourself, embarrass the West to a point where the South quits on you. Or where Timothée spreads the events of the night and turns you into an irresponsible queen. You should not drink. "Yes please." You say, taking Timothée's outstretched hand. You mentally scold yourself as you let him pull you through the people.

You've been stranded in the corner of the room, half empty pint in hand. Your stomach twists, Timothée had been talking to people and you had left to go to the bathroom, when you had come back he was gone. So, you stood alone. You walk towards an empty booth and sit down, staring at the liquid in your cup. Where had Timothée gone? Had he left the actual bar? Or just gotten swarmed with people, swept away by the crowd? You weren't sure and felt mildly uneasy that you were now alone in this crowded room, you felt uncomfortable. You sigh and stare at the translucent liquid, you kinda wished Timothée was sitting with you, talking your ear off about things you didn't care about. That would be better than being alone. You huff and send ripples through your drink. Screw it, you were going to find him. You find an empty booth and pull yourself atop the table, scanning the crowded room. Where was this bastard? You scowl, why was he so difficult to find? You considered shouting to get his attention, that was if he could even hear you over the atmosphere. You stare around impatiently. Where the hell was he?

You frown. It was pointless coming here. You realize that now as you stand alone, atop a table, desperately searching for someone you barely even liked. Someone clears their throat and you look down from the table. Two people stare up at you, heads tilted. "Are you alright?" The brunette asks, eyebrows knit together.

You sigh. "Yes, just looking for someone." You admit. The brunette nods at you, crossing their arms over their chest. You return to searching for Timothée. The pair doesn't leave and you awkwardly look back. "Is this your seat?" You ask.

"Nope." The blonde woman says. "Would you like help finding the person you're looking for?" The woman asks politely.

You're slightly surprised, that was an oddly nice offer. You smile slightly, "that would be nice actually."

The brunette nods and pulls them self up onto the table, the blonde following suit. They stand beside you, pressing together so everyone could fit on the table. "I'm Kris by the way, and this is Penny." They smile as they knock their shoulder into yours.

You smile. "Y/n." You say, introducing yourself to the pair.

"That's such a lovely name!" Kris beams before tapping their chin, thinking up a plan. "Now, who precisely are you looking for?"

"The man I came here with. I lost him once I came back from the bathroom." You explain.

"He was probably talking with people and was led away. Right?" Penny suggests. "So look for him in big groups of people."

"Yo, that's actually smart." Kris nods their head. You shuffle closer together atop the table, linking arms so no one falls. "Description of this guy?" they scan the crowded room.

You twist your fingers as you describe him as best as possible. "He sounds alright looking." Penny says with an eye roll. "Can't be finer than you though." She frowns.

You chuckle. They point out men who somewhat fit the description you give. "No, not them. No. Uh-uh. Nope."

"Ugh why do so many men have curly brown hair?" Kris throws their head back and stomps their foot.

"What about that chap?" Penny points to a man who is leaning over a table, one hand propping the man up and the other is pointing around to accentuate the conversation, or talk up the point he's trying to get across.

The man turns to laugh and you can see his face. You press your lips together. "That's him."

"Damn girl! He's fit." Kris elbows you.

"Kris! You can't call another woman's man fine!" Penny scolds before looking over at you. "He is kinda leng though."

"How am I supposed to get over there?" You cross your arms. Such a pain he was, he was even ruining this night that was supposed to be fun.

"You've got two minutes until dancing starts. Just dance your way over." Kris twists their short hair into a tiny little ponytail. "Boogie through the men, you know, homie hop. Until you get to your homie. Easy as pie." They shrug.

"Homie hop. Where the hell did you learn such none sense?" Penny sighs.

"Okay yeah, that sounds okay. One problem. I can only ballroom dance." You smile awkwardly.

"Oh it's just like that, just you know, more fast paced and sillier. Anything goes really. Just bob and weave through people, do not get caught in someone's arms." Penny instructs. "Also where the hell did you learn to ballroom dance?" She raises an eyebrow.

"Well, actually...You see, I-I uh-" the music cuts you off. Upbeat jazz rings through the pub. The pair wishes you luck and you hop down from the table. You glide along the floor twisting gracefully along the wood floors. You tried your best to blend in with the other dancers, your moves were too coordinated so you tried to make yourself goof off a bit. No luck, you were too focused on dodging men going to pull you into their arms. You can't see Penny and Kris anymore. Either they too stepped down from the table or you were too short to see them over the sea of people. Swaying backwards and still moving to the other side of the pub was foolish. You trip over someone's foot and are sent windmill arming through the large mass of bodies. You fall flat on your ass, but you were successful in making it out of the crowd. You stay on the floor, just on the outskirts of the bar, your cheeks flushed.

You rise and hurry over to the corner where Penny pointed Timothée out. He isn't there. You groan but walk over to the group anyways. Twisting your fingers anxiously you smile at them. "H-hi, um did you see a man, tallish, brown curls, green eyes, nice cheekbones, very handsome?" You rock on your heels. "I came here wi-with him and I can't manage to find him." You bite your lower lip.

"Yeah actually he was just here." A petite red head says. She's tucked into a cute man's side, hiding under his arm. "Went over there somewhere." She smiles. "I'll let him know you were looking if he comes back."

"Thank you." You smile awkwardly and turn to walk away. You hang your head, you were annoyed Timothée had left without you. Foolish of you to agree to even come here.

You huff and sit yourself down at the bar. You don't bother ordering anything. If Timothée wanted to find you he would. A voice tickles your ear. "So you think I'm handsome?"

Please have a great day on behalf of Timothée and I <3

You're so freaking beautiful, go drink food and eat some water, 

Until next time my pretties 

- E