Floralia (1)

The Cyan Ballroom—a vast circular ballroom packed with people dancing and drinking beneath strings of glistening flowers. Chandeliers with hanging jewels like frozen, shimmering drops of rain hovered above the domed ceiling. There were six clusters of people, I noticed, wearing the themes according to their source of life force. It was very easy to discern where they came from. Even I had roses sewn on my gown. Althea also had lilacs pinned atop her hair.

It appeared that the East and the West were very close, seeing as how many of them were talking to each other.

My feet struck the white marble floor as we entered the room. One by one, their heads turned toward me, the looks on their faces observing, watching and following my every movement—even if I was merely walking between the sea of shiny nobles. The hairs on my skin rose and a slithering chill crawled down my spine. The amount of eyes glued on me was overwhelming.