Celestia Eleanor Young is the newest generation of the Pure-blood Young family of Singapore. The Young Clan has the power of a monarchy and the wealth of a first-world country.
Not only does she have to prove herself to her family that she's capable...
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The Annual Malfoy Yule Ball marks off the start of the Yule Holiday. I had no need to floo over, as I am already staying over.
Nick is staying with Father in Australia, Mum is still working her arse off, and I assume Ah Ma would be as indifferent as usual if I were to stay with her at Tyersall Park. Therefore, I am staying at the Malfoy's with Auntie Narcissa—who insisted on having me address her as that, Draco's paternal grandmother, and their little house elves.
Auntie Narcissa apparently had "kindly" asked her husband to see himself out of the Manor for a few days because he didn't let her beloved son come back for the holidays just because he had lost a game she considers to be childish and unimportant.
Just three ladies in a humongous manor with no disturbance of the opposite gender. Perfect peace.
Bless Mum, but I was incredibly thrilled at how I finally got to pick out what I wanted to wear for the ball myself. The theme Auntie Narcissa had chosen for this year is "Winter Glamourland". Not particularly descriptive, but we will take what we are given.
I wore a black and gold gown. It's intricate, expressive, and it screams nobility. The other guests wore simple but regal attires. "Quiet luxury", as they call it. A lifestyle that does not flaunt wealth freely yet still showcasing the high qualities and values of it. However, there is nothing "quiet" about fashion. I love fashion for the art, the expression, and the impact it has on the entire world and I shall appreciate it to the finest.
I soon spot Blaise in a bright and stylish suit wandering around with Daphne following behind. I approach them and learn Blaise was in search of Santa Claus. I break the news to him that he isn't here this year. He frowns and crosses his arms.
"Just when I was anticipating for good ol' Santa to cheer me up," he grumbles. He looks me up and down and smirks. "Bellissima."
"Grazie." I snort, then frown. "Why would you need cheering up?"
"Because his Mum also took her most recent husband to this ball," Daphne explains briefly.
"It's not just because she had brought that cretin." Blaise huffs. "She called him Ciccio when she really is supposed to be calling me that like she has been for the last twelve years!"
I squeeze his arm in attempt to comfort him. This seems to be a reoccurring "curse" within families of the higher classes. Either we are born from completely incompetent parents or our own marriages are destined for doom. After all, we can't have everything, can we?
"Dio mio," Blaise's breathes out and puts a trembling hand on his chest, "somebody please claw my eyes out for me."
Daphne and I follow his eyes to the one and only Pratty Parkinson. She walks in after her mother. Daphne let out an audible gasp and covers her mouth with her hand. I can only blink and stare.
