As iNPC Iris Fields

Iris gritted her teeth as the corset pulled tighter and tighter. This wasn’t the 1800’s, why in Merlin’s name had her grandmother decided this was necessary?! Iris let out a yelp when she realized that breathing was now an effort. Her grandmother’s maid pulled a few more times and secured the knot with practiced ease. Iris suddenly felt light headed when her body registered the lack of oxygen than had previously been supplied.

“You’ll get used to it,” The maid said when Iris supported herself up by balancing on a dresser, afraid she was going to collapse. The maid then let Iris have her moment and started making her bed. Iris let her vision glaze over as her body started coping again. This was awful.

This was a million times worse than finishing school. In a week, Iris had transformed from a reckless tomboy who delighted in racing and wild adventures in the woods to a professional proper girl who was the epitome of fancy. All week she had been cooped up inside, instructed on ‘small talk’ and which fork to use and constantly told to stand taller and keep her head high and make eye contact. Whenever she spoke, she was forced to use a posh British accent that made her sound like a squeaky mouse. She had read dozens of books on how to act and how to talk and what was appropriate and what wasn’t. She had learned the names and backgrounds of dozens of pureblood families and a multitude of rumors that she didn’t remotely care about.

“Alright, Miss Fields, are you ready for your dress?” The maid inquired, grabbing the silks as if to say ‘too bad if you aren’t’. Iris nodded and kept a ‘polite’ expression on even though she’d rather eat cat poop.

As the maid helped her into the dress. It was just a bit too tight and the neckline was a bit too low and the hem was a bit too high. She had at least compromised on the sleeves that were sort of see through and baggy and had little dots on them. It made her have the illusion that she wasn’t wearing so little. It was a tight form ‘cocktail’ dress. (She knew that from the book of proper attire) Her shoes that she was to wear tonight at the Christmas cocktail party were heels, actual, real-life heels. Heels were something Iris had never seen herself ever wearing. She had gotten her ears pierced just a few days ago and they were now filled with very heavy opals.

Iris sat in polite brooding silence as the maid did her hair. Every strand felt like it was being pulled in a different direction, and even now she felt a headache coming on. At least her grandmother wasn’t here pestering about her slouching or something else she was probably doing wrong. Iris’ dreams of time without her grandmother’s voice filling her head were deflated when she came in the bedroom with a clipboard and a frown.

“Child, what are you doing?!” Iris didn’t have the time to respond before her grandmother went on, “You should be practicing something, reviewing something, we still have a lot to get through before the party tonight! Your parents let you stay here over Christmas Break for a reason and I am not going to have you waste a way a week you could spend becoming better,” she scoffed and dragged up a chair beside Iris. “Now, should we practice your accent?”

“Well, actually I’d rathe—” Iris’ attempt at getting out of it were cut short.

“Firstly, a lady never uses contractions. Secondly, that was not a question. Child, ladies are to be seen and not heard, now close your mouth before a bug flies in,” Iris’ grandmother had a second maid bring her a chair. “Now, repeat after me: red leather, yellow leather,” It had taken Iris a long time to get used to her grandmother’s disposition. She changed topics so fast and said things that were so hard to follow. She would also say one thing and when you did it, she would get upset because you were ‘actually supposed to do this other thing’. It was awful, but Iris did as she was told.

“Red Yether Rellow Yether,” Iris fumbled over the tongue twister, messing up the accent on top of it.

“Child!” her grandmother chastised, “We spent near two hours yesterday working on this! Have you forgotten everything already?” She clicked her tongue and wrote something down on the clipboard rather forcefully, “Again, red leather yellow leather’

“Red leather, yellow leather”

“Faster and you’re ‘e’ in red needs to be British not dead,”

“Red leather, yellow leather,”

“Better, better, again”

Tongue twisters and endless insults filled the next long while as Iris’ hair was finished being tended to. At least it looked pretty when they were done. Not that she could actually see it when she was going to be walking around. Honestly, who even cared about hair, it was just…. there. Like, most boys she knew just flung a brush through their hair once and slathered in some gel and it took all of 30 seconds. Where she had to sit there for 15 minutes so they could brush it. 10 minutes so they could treat it. 20 minutes so they could style it. Another 20 so they could put it up. And if she did so much as sneeze it would all come undone.

At last, Iris was done. Her outfit was on, her hair was done, her nails were done, her makeup was on, she was adorned with jewelry and she was stumbling around in heels. The maid hustled off to do something else and her grandmother left to go yell at some other maids to fix things down in the ball room. Iris made it to the mirror and looked at herself. She had heard the saying before that ‘they didn’t recognize themselves in the mirror’ but this was so different. Iris honestly took a moment to register that the girl in the mirror was indeed her. The dress looked stunning, it actually accentuated her appealing features and wasn’t nearly as scant as she had previously thought. Her hair, or what she could see of it, was elegant. The jewelry that hung so heavy actually looked nice. And her face, the makeup was stunning and flawless. She looked like she had just stepped out of a magazine.

“CHHIIIIIIIIILD,” Her grandmother shrilly yelled from downstairs.

“I’m coming!” Iris yelled back, somewhat surprised that her contraction had gone unnoticed.


------

Iris tripped into the hallway with her heels and just managed to keep herself upright. What were people thinking walking on their tiptoes. She knew already that her feet were going to be on fire after this. Her hands gripped sidings of the walls as she walked down the hallway. All around her was activity, maids rushing from one end of the hall to another with platters and chairs and diving in and out of rooms with stacks piled up to their heads.

Iris waited for a maid to push open the doors to the ballroom and followed behind when one did. She didn’t trust her hands, her only thing keeping her upright, on something that moved. She froze the first step into the ballroom. It was stunning. She had only seen it once before, but from what she remembered, nothing was the same. There were sparkling chandeliers and the most garland than she had ever seen in one place in her life and newly waxed floors and lots of white cocktail party tables and chairs and gorgeous table centerpieces and floor to ceiling windows and so many Christmas trees and mountains of wrapped presents.

“Child, stop gawking. Stand tall, head up, confidence! I want to feel confidence exuding from you as you come down those stairs. What? What are you doing?! You are walking like a newborn deer in an earthquake. Steady feet. Is this the first time you have been in heels? My goodness, you are truly a mess,” Her grandmother ‘tutted’ under her breath and walked to the base of the stairs with a pained and annoyed expression on her face, “It seemed I neglected something in your training this week. Steady feet. Trust the shoes. Pretend you are walking in tip toes, not like that, goodness, must I spell everything out for you? Trust the shoes, let go of the railing. There you go, oh goodness,”

Iris had been following along the instructions as her grandmother had been instructing her. However, the instant her had had left the railing, a maid holding chair pillows bumped into her elbow. Iris then fell onto the stairs and skidded the rest of the way down, spraining her arm in the process. Iris couldn’t help as a tear escaped her eye for the first time this week. Everything was going wrong and she could never do anything right.

“Child, do not cry, you will ruin your make-up. Ladies never cry,” Iris went to wipe it away and her grandmother tapped at it with a handkerchief before she was able to. “Maid, you, no you, you are excused of work… indefinitely,” Seeing the puzzled look on the maid who bumped into Iris’ face she further explained with an icy tone, “You are fired,”

Iris bent over her arm, fighting with everything in her not to cry. She had been strong and had been doing her best all week and it seemed it wasn’t ever enough for her grandmother or for her. She was always doing something wrong. Now she could even keep herself from crying. She was failing her grandmother and her own parents and even herself now. It was at this moment that she cracked. Iris’ grandmother went off in search of her wand to heal up Iris’ sprained arm and Iris sat at the bottom of the stairs sobbing. The last of her had split right open, being nice and welcoming had brought her nothing. She was never nice enough of good enough to please anyone. She tried and tried and got nothing out of her troubles. Even the maids seemed to not notice Iris, only giving her a wayward glance when they were sure she wasn’t looking.

Iris sobbed and sobbed as the rest of the room was put together. She was given no notice, simply just the girl on the base of the stairs crying. Her arm continued to hurt, but she wasn’t crying for that. She was crying for being a failure and for never being enough. Everything that she had pushed aside the last week now pestered her. Before this, her life was fine. Sure she had, had regular troubles, but this was so different. It had been wearing her down so much, and now, as she sat sobbing, she realized that her soft spots had been worn down so much that they weren’t there. Instead, she was growing back stronger. But, that wasn’t necessarily the same thing. She felt herself harden. The sobs faded away and she was left with a throbbing headache and a raw throat. Iris took the handkerchief that was still balled up in her fist and dabbed the tears from her face. The makeup, miraculously wasn’t smudged. Must have been enchanted.

Iris was sitting at the base of the stairs, clutching her arm, staring blankly at carpet a few feet in front of her with an expressionless face when her grandmother finally re-entered the ballroom. In the quarter hour that had elapsed, Iris had transformed into a completely different person. She made no movement to help her grandmother as she took her hurt arm and muttered an incantation. The pain faded away instantly.

“Cheer up, child, you are lucky I am such a—”

“My name is Iris,” Iris cut off her grandmother, using the same icy tone that her grandmother had been using to ridicule her all week.

“I know that, child,” Her grandmother said, loosing the happier tone she had before, tucking a few loose strands of Iris’ hair back into place. Always moving. Always fixing. Never content.

“No,” Iris said, ducking out from under her grandmother’s finishing hand, “I mean, call me Iris. No more ‘child’ing me. I am a lady, as you have been telling me all week long, so either call me ‘Iris’ or ‘lady’, no more ‘child’,”

The look on her grandmother’s face was withering, “All right, Iris, it looks like we have found your breaking point. This is a rather unpleasant time for you to be doing this. The guests will be arriving shortly, so change your attitude or I will,” Her tone was sharper than Iris had heard before. It took everything in her not to cower away. Her whole life she did the best she could to avoid hearing that tone. Memories came with that… not good ones either.

Iris glowered at the ground, for the first time blatantly disobeying her grandmother’s instruction. Her grandmother turned and walked off, dismissing the rest of the maids to a back room. From the hallway her grandmother called, “Iris, you are to go back to your room, when the guests arrive, I will come to your room and tell you,”

For the next while, Iris sat in the window seat of her room, watching as guests arrived. It was rather like a storybook with people arriving in luxurious cars in tight fitted dresses and dapper suits. It was odd to think that they were all arriving for her. After all, the party was supposed to be celebrating Iris and welcoming her into the proper side of the family. She could occasionally hear snatches of conversation and the studying she had done about rumors and esteemed families had paid off. The Kingston family was known for attending every party, but this was one of the first they had hosted. Iris noticed that many people brought brightly wrapped gifts, probably to win the favor of her grandmother, the host.

Iris spent a while at the window, even when cars started leaving and none filled in the place. She could hear the ambient noise downstairs of people chatting, and felt rather left out. That was sort of the plan though. The party would get started, people would wonder where the star of the show was, then, BAM, Iris appears at the top of the stairs and descends into her ‘loving admirers’ looking proper and perfect and the epitome of who she was supposed to be.

--------

There was a knock at the door and her grandmother waved Iris out, disappearing before Iris had the chance to say a word. She struggled back to her feet with the heels. This time, she forced herself to walk without relying on the railing to keep her upright. By the time she reached the large doors to the ballroom, she was steady enough on her feet that she looked almost like she knew what she was doing, but not quite. Iris waited a moment and heard her grandmother’s amplified voice call out, “Esteemed guests, let me welcome in my granddaughter, Iris Kingston,” Her grandmother had gotten her last name wrong, her last name was Fields, but the Fields weren’t known to the general Purebloods, the Kingston’s however, very much were. At the sound of her name, Iris watched as the door swung open on its own. Suddenly, there were lights on her, she could almost hear her grandmother’s voice in her head, ‘Small smile, head up, confidence, I want to feel confidence exuding from you. Sure steps, perfect posture. The eyes will be on you, but don’t look at them, look straight ahead’

Iris followed the mini grandmother voice in her head because, to be frank, she was beyond tired and so cracked and broken that she couldn’t even hear her own voice in her head anymore. So she smiled a small polite smile and walked with fake sure steps. She made her way down the stairs, stepping to the beat of the Christmas Carol being played on the grand piano away from where anyone could see. Her gaze was on the Christmas tree, just above the head of the crowd gathered. She reached the floor and this is where she would have curtsied with her skirt if she had one to curtsy with. Instead, she gave a short bow at the waist with the perfect little smile on her face. When she looked back to the crowd she realized everyone was clapping. It took a moment, then the noise came back to her and she could hear the applause.

Her grandmother appeared at her side and took Iris by the arm. As they walked, Iris heard her grandmother whispering to her, although every time she tried to look, she never saw her grandmother talking. “There is a boy here that is going to be your date. I know you two haven’t met, but he is from the Procoppio bloodline,”

“The what?” Iris questioned.

“Don’t talk unless you know how to do it discreetly, child. His name is Andrew Procoppio, he is not from a Pureblood family, but we will have to make do. He’s chivalrous, just let him lead you around and introduce you to people. He is certainly not who I want you with, but play the part for tonight and don’t talk about him. In fact, don’t talk at all unless you can help it,” Iris just barely noticed the contractions before her grandmother’s tone returned to normal conversation volume, “Welcome to the party Andrew, this is Iris, your date for the night,” Her grandmother slipped her arm out of Iris’ and waved to Andrew, “Don’t let everything I have taught you go to waste,” She whispered as she walked away and into the crowd who somehow hadn’t noticed Iris was there at all.

“So…” Andrew started, shifting from foot to foot.

“You are… Andrew then? And I am Iris,”

“You can… uh, call me Drew… I heard that this is your first party?”

“Yeah—Yes it is,” Iris corrected herself, hearing her grandmother’s voice chastising her in her head. ‘Ladies speak full words, never contractions or abbreviations’.

“I believe I am supposed to introduce you to people then?” Drew offered out his arm and Iris locked hers in it a bit uncomfortably. “So, the two ladies over there, the ones with the blue dresses and matching necklaces are sisters from the White bloodline, Stephany and Tiffany. Their younger brother over there is—”

“Simon, right?” Iris finished, saying the words without realizing it. It seemed some of her studies had worn off.

“Yeah, how’d you know that? You know what, I probably don’t wanna know. Sanitizing, I expect,” He spoke, weaving effortlessly through the crowd.

“Sanatiz—you mean like the horrible last week I’ve been through learning and finishing school stuff?”

“Yeah, that’s just what I call it. All you’ve gotta do is act the part. Then when you are by yourself you can be you, like this, I can talk however I want but when I talk to fancy people,” Andrew stopped them by an older couple.

“Why hello there,” The grandfather aged one greeted with a smile, “You must be Iris, Susan’s granddaughter. And who might you be, young lad?”

“Hello sir, my name is Andrew,” He gave a short bow, “It was nice to meet you,”

The couple waved as Drew steered the two of them away. “Forgot about the whole, I’m a ‘Pureblood’ thing. We might not want to do too many introductions,”

But it didn’t matter, Iris had learned something. Andrew coped with it all by being himself when no one was watching. However, Iris knew that she couldn’t do that. She had to be herself all the time. But that would mean changing who she was, right down to the core. She had to follow what her grandmother told her or she would end up a failure to everyone. And if there was something that Iris was still clinging on to, it was the fact that she wanted to please everyone.

-------

The rest of the night dragged by. Drew continued to point people out to Iris, filling in the gaps in her research and teachings the last week. They avoided talking to most people, instead pretending to be in deep conversation whenever someone would approach. This lasted for about an hour or two, people chatting, the roar of conversation never ceasing. The man on the piano took a break at one point, and an older lady sat down at his place and played an apparently traditional Pureblood song with words and stuff and Iris pretended to sing along, in truth having no clue what on earth was going on.

Iris realized that it was getting late and they still hadn’t had dinner. Were they just going to skip a meal? For no reason? Who even did that? She didn’t bring it up to Drew, unsure if they were supposed to have eaten beforehand. She still hadn’t really warmed up to Drew. He seemed nice enough, friendly, amicable, knowledgeable, all of those things. She just didn’t feel super connected. Partially because the corset she was wearing continued to constrict her breathing and her shoes were killing her.

Ding, Ding The sharp sound of a metal spoon on the side of a glass cup rang through the room. Iris’ grandmother’s magically amplified voice filled the room, “Attention everyone! Thank you, thank you. Refreshments are officially served!” There was a beat of silence, then maids came pouring from the back room with small platters. The wove through the crowd, allowing guests to take one of the small snacks before moving to the next person. The platters seemed to never empty, it took Iris a long time to figure out that they were likely enchanted or something, it was the only explanation.

There were fish eggs, cheese on crackers, tiny sandwiches, asparagus wrapped something, some sort of green blob, and all sorts of little drinks that Iris knew without asking were for adults only. Each time one of the maids came close, Iris shook her head. Nothing that looked appetizing ever came near her. There were little smelly fish, some sort of spicy pepper wrapped something green, actual snails, and some sort of brown jelly thing. Drew grabbed the last of a seaweed looking thing and swallowed it before Iris even got a good look at it.

“It’s horrible tasting, but I forgot to make myself lunch and I’m starving,” He murmured, seeing Iris’ curious expression.

The next little while dragged by. Iris’ appetite disappeared after seeing the weird things on the platters, and she gave up on finding a snack. Besides, she was more likely to stain her dress or mess up her makeup eating something then standing around.

Finally, finally, Iris heard the clinking of the spoon on the glass again, que for the temptations of the icky foods to disappear. “Now it is the time of the night that I know Iris was looking forward to the most! Our guest of honor, why don’t you make it to the stage,”

“What was I looking forward to?” Iris whispered at Drew, a puzzled expression on her face.

“Probably the unwrapping of all of your gifts,” He smirked, an incredulous expression on his face.

“The what? Gifts?” Now it was Iris’ turn to look incredulous, she wasn’t able to inquire further because Drew pushed her into the crowd. Iris broke through conversations and jostled countless people as she made her way to the front. Thankfully, no one looked upset, but her cheeks were burning anyway. That was another thing her grandmother neglected to teach her, how to push through a crowd without actually pushing anybody.

Her grandmother ushered her to a chair by the Christmas tree. “Alright, pictures are allowed during this time!” She called out. Suddenly Iris was blinded by the flashes of light, she tried to look put together and perfect, but it took everything in her not to cover her eyes. Her grandmother hadn’t taught her very much pertaining tonight, had she? The pictures continued for a minute or two and Iris smiled and waved, knowing that the pictures were like to move and she didn’t want that two seconds to just be of her sitting still. “Alright, alright everyone, that’s enough for now,” her grandmother finally stopped everyone. The light continued to block some of Iris’ vision as her grandmother had the attendants bring the presents to her.

There was an actual mountain of gifts. Iris had never seen so many real presents in her life. Having so many siblings, meant that there weren’t too many presents for her at any given event. Maybe five or six if she was lucky. More if her friends gave her things. But now, there were at least five or six dozen and counting. It almost looked as if her grandmother made a gift mandatory for entrance, which she very well could have.

Iris looked to her grandmother and she mouthed, ‘open them’. Iris looked back to the presents and chose a small one from the top of the pile. Everyone watching seemed to draw in a breath when Iris put her fingers on the string, she pulled and it loosened, she unfolded the wrapping paper and opened a small box to reveal some sort of metal thingie? Iris had to take it out of the foam to realize it was a hair brooch. A pretty gift if Iris ever actually did anything with her hair. A maid grabbed the discarded string and wrapping paper and another took the present from her palm and set it on one of the cocktail party tables next to the present mound.

Next was a brightly wrapped leather journal. After that was a bundle of gold embossed letters. Then there was a pair of bright red heels. The next few were all jewelry, none of which Iris really liked. Each time she opened the gifts, however, she would smile and gush over them, running her fingers down the gift and thanking the watching crowd. She was thankful that she didn’t have stage fright because if she did, this would have been her nightmare. Instead, Iris pretended it was just her grandmother, and would often look to her. None of the gifs were appealing, they were the kinds of things that posh Pureblood girls were supposed to like.

After enough presents, Iris lost the novelty. The crowd began to peel off, no longer making Iris the center of attention. Then somebody knocked over one of the nicely set up tables. It was chaos after that, everyone was going over and picking up shards of glass, somebody got out a wand to cast the Cleaning Charm and accidentally hit a different table and everything knocked onto the ground. An older lady slipped on some of the spilled drinks and fell on the ground and then other people were trying to help her up and cast Reparifors on her. It was chaos. The room broke apart and someone was filming the mess. The maids were doing the best they could but one of them cut her hand on some glass and… Iris just slipped away.

There were screams and shouts, Iris backed up against a corner in the wall just out of sight. One of the candles dipped onto the table and then a tablecloth was alight. Three people tried to put it out but two missed and the other one used the Water Charm instead, making a bigger wet spot on the floor. Iris ducked into a spare room and closed the door, sitting down on the floor. She could still hear everyone screaming and shouting, little flashes of colored light could be seen from the doorway.

There was a calming silence in the room after a little while. Her grandmother’s muted voice ushering people out onto the front lawn. Instructing everyone to put their wands away and leaving it to the maids.

No one noticed Iris was gone.

She sat in the dark of the spare room, wondering how long it would take before someone noticed she was gone. Likely a long time. She began to wonder if all parties were this chaotic. All of the hours of prep and then talking and dodging conversations and weird foods and useless uninteresting presents and fires and spells and general chaos. That last bit had happened so fast. One moment, Iris was talking with Drew, the next everything was spilling and being knocked over. The darkness and silence was nice. Her grandmother’s voice wasn’t her internal dialogue like it had been right before the party. She still felt the aching from when she had cried earlier today. Had that really been earlier today? It felt like weeks and weeks ago.

A drowsiness hung in the air. Iris stretched and laid down on the floor. Taking off her heels and setting them a little ways away. She wasn’t planning on falling asleep. But the weight of the day was just so heavy. Her eyes were harder and harder to keep open. She yawned, closing her eyes in the process. Her eyes didn’t open again after that. Sleep swooped in swift and heavy. And Iris found safety in her slumber.

---

“I found her!”

“Thank Merlin,”

“Wake up, miss,”

It took Iris a moment to realize the voices weren’t in her head. She wasn’t dreaming, rather, she was and then she wasn’t. Iris opened her eyes to see three of her grandmother’s maids and her grandmother herself staring down at her. Iris shuffled to her feet, heels in hand. She had managed to fall asleep without intending to. Memories of the night rushed back to her and she realized that she had likely been missing for hours, all night even. Hopefully they hadn’t been searching for her at the party. But what about Drew? Had he left? She hadn’t even given him the light of day the entire night last night. A bubble of guilt welled up.

“What on earth are you doing in here, child?” Her grandmother’s voice cut through Iris’ thoughts.

“I was just, waiting for everything to calm down and then I—”

“You fell asleep,” Her grandmother bitterly finished for her.

Iris was sent back to her room to change into proper clothes for the day as she had indeed slept through the night. Apparently, her maids had been looking for her all night when her grandmother finally realized that Iris had been missing. However, it was not in kindness that her grandmother had been searching for her, but for the sake of having to deal with Iris’ parents. It still baffled Iris how her grandmother always found a way to make things horrible. Suddenly, it was Iris’ fault that everything had gone wrong. She should have been more entertaining with the gifts. She should have been leading the night. She should have said goodbye to Drew. She should have calmed everyone down. Her disappearance was why everything went wrong in the first place. The next two days, Iris was lectured again and again on how she should have acted and everything that she had done wrong.

Iris returned to her internal voice being her grandmother’s and not her own. She even held better posture without being asked, she eliminated contractions from her speech, her Norwegian accent was battered out of her. She was lectured on what to expect at the Beckett gala. Exactly who would be there, what would happen, her role in the night, who she might be with (as her grandmother hadn’t decided yet). She was reminded again and again what not to repeat from that night. That the gala was the only redemption she had. Iris tried on dozens of dresses and went through dozens of role plays for dinner and conversation. Iris slowly felt her old self slipping away, she noticed it was harder to wish to go outside, she no longer yearned to climb a tree. Heels felt more normal than running shoes. She had learned the polite smile and it was harder to scowl. She had even started to think that she liked it.

---

It was finally the night before the Gala. Iris sat in the prepping chair as dozens of maids whirled around her. Her hair was brushed and washed and had a hair mask in. Her skin was waxed and lotion-ed and any imperfections were being treated with a myriad of potions and spells. She lost track of what was going on, but her nails were painted and her face endured layers of different things. Iris listened as her grandmother explained for the last time what she was supposed to do the next morning.

“You are to wake up at precisely 7:30am, the maids will come in and get you in your outfit. You will drink a protein shake as they do your hair, your face, and your nail touchups if necessary. We will practice your speech and conversation for the rest of the day. We will arrive at the Beckett’s five minutes early.

During the night, you will stay your date and talk politely to anyone who approaches…”

Her grandmother went on and Iris recited it in her mind. She had heard the speech many times in the last two days. She wasn’t independent anymore. She wasn’t making thoughts to herself. She didn’t even register that her grandmother neglected to mention who exactly her date was going to be.

Iris had officially become a young lady, a perfect example of who she was supposed to be.

Word Count: 5615!! I am so darn proud of that. I'm gonna recode and color talking at a later time (probably). But yeah, I hope you enjoyed it.

https://i.postimg.cc/0NLmYF8f/image.png <-- Dress
https://i.postimg.cc/Pq8v5ym8/image.png <-- Hair
https://i.postimg.cc/NM6y10Cs/image.png <-- Earrings
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/f4/d8/e6 ... 082bcd.jpg <-- Ballroom