The morning sunlight streamed through the windows of Louisa Brantley’s chamber. Sighing softly, she roused herself, begrudgingly getting dressed. Today was the Queen’s Ball, and Louisa would have much rather been kicked by a horse, than go to the ball. Yet, her mother was forcing her, as she had done for the two years prior. Exiting her chamber, she refrained from shooting her mother a cross look. The two of them ate breakfast in silence. Well, Louisa ate breakfast in silence, while Clotilde attempted to engage in conversation with her cross daughter. After they had finished eating, the two entered their carriage to travel to the ball. Once there, Louisa promptly glued herself to the wall, hovering around the food like a fly. Clotilde pretended she didn’t know her daughter.
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