It had been a week of preparation, and though I had learned much, most of it had been etiquette lessons and dance practice. Today was different. Today was the prince's ball. He had recently turned sixteen, and the entire palace was alive with activity. The halls buzzed with the hurried footsteps of servants, the rustle of silk, and the scent of polished floors mixed with flowers from the garden.
This ball wasn't just a celebration—it was a display of power and alliances. Noble ladies from across the world were arriving, hoping to catch the eye of the future king. From the Sun Kingdom, with its golden-haired daughters, to the Grass Kingdom, with deep green tresses, the Air Kingdom with silver-blue hair that shimmered like clouds, and the Flower Kingdom with pink hair as soft as petals—each noble girl carried her country's symbol in every detail of her appearance. The Fire Country, thought long destroyed fourteen years ago, was represented… only by me. My red hair, glowing even in the dim light of my room, marked me as the last trace of a kingdom thought gone forever.
The maids had been relentless in their preparations. I had short hair, cropped roughly to resemble a boy's cut from the streets, so there was no braiding or elaborate style. Instead, they brushed it neatly, letting the vibrant red shine freely, tucking stray strands behind my ears and pinning the ends with tiny combs that glinted like embers. My dress was simple, cream-colored silk threaded with gold. It flowed lightly when I moved but didn't hinder me, modest compared to the lavish gowns of the other nobles. The maids applied subtle touches of makeup to even out my pale skin and highlight my fiery hair, though I felt like a doll, unfamiliar and fragile.
"Beautiful," one whispered, stepping back to admire their work.
I didn't feel beautiful. I felt out of place.
By mid-afternoon, the palace halls were a river of color and laughter. Noble ladies in shades of green, pink, gold, silver, and purple moved gracefully, whispering to one another in hushed tones about politics, alliances, and—occasionally—me.
"My, what is that hair?" a young noblewoman with rose-colored hair whispered, casting a glance over her shoulder.
"Red… Fire Country," another hissed, barely moving her lips. "It's impossible… I thought they were gone."
I tried not to listen, hunching my shoulders as I walked behind the prince, who looked calm as ever in a midnight-blue suit with silver embroidery. My heart raced. I didn't want attention; I wanted to hide, to disappear into the shadows where I belonged.
"Stand tall," the prince said quietly, his hand brushing my elbow. "No one will dare disrespect you here if you do."
I nodded, though my stomach twisted.
The ballroom was massive, more immense than any hall I had ever seen. Chandeliers hung like stars above, reflecting gold and silver light across the polished floor. Servants lined the edges, carrying trays of delicate pastries and crystal glasses filled with sparkling water. Musicians tuned their instruments, strings and flutes creating a tense, expectant air.
The guests were already taking their places. Noblemen in fine suits and polished boots mingled, whispering to each other, while the ladies fanned themselves gracefully, conversing with small smiles and whispered tones. I felt entirely out of place, my simple dress and nervous demeanor a stark contrast to the calculated elegance of the rest.
The king and queen entered, flanked by the three daughters. Their presence brought the room to a hush. The queen's green hair was adorned with a jeweled comb, shimmering under the chandelier light. The eldest princess, sixteen, wore gold and cream silk; the middle, fourteen like me, in soft blue; and the youngest, thirteen, in lilac. They glanced at me, but only briefly, their expressions unreadable.
The prince stepped forward, standing tall and confident. He scanned the room, then turned toward the gathered noble ladies.
"Tonight," he announced, voice clear and firm, "we celebrate my coming of age. And like any tradition, the first dance will set the evening in motion."
Whispers flowed through the crowd. Noblewomen straightened, smoothing gowns and adjusting gloves.
He looked at me. My stomach dropped. The prince's eyes held something like thoughtfulness, but I couldn't read it.
"Lady Elara," he said, voice carrying across the floor.
I froze, then bowed quickly. "Your Highness."
"Come." His hand gestured toward the center of the ballroom. I hesitated, then followed. My feet felt heavy, the cream silk clinging to my legs as I moved. All eyes were on me—the red hair marking me as different, as someone from a country that should no longer exist.
Some of the other ladies whispered again, more softly this time, as I passed.
"Fire Country…"
"How is she alive?"
"Red hair like flames…"
I tried not to let their words reach me, but it was impossible. Each whisper cut like a small knife, reminding me that my past, long buried, was visible for all to see.
The prince reached me and placed a hand at the small of my back. "Do not fear them," he said quietly, close enough for only me to hear. "They see what they want to see. You are more than whispers and hair."
I nodded, trying to believe him.
The music started, a slow waltz with strings and flutes. The prince extended his hand. "Shall we?"
I placed mine in his, feeling the strength and warmth in his grip. He guided me to the center, and the hall seemed to fade around us.
"Follow my lead," he said softly. "I will guide you."
I tried, focusing on his hand, the gentle sway, the rhythm of the music. The world was spinning, yet in some way, steady. The other nobles continued their polite dances, but I was only aware of the prince's calm guidance.
"Good," he murmured as we moved. "Relax, let it flow. One step at a time."
The first dance passed in a blur of light, movement, and whispers. Some noblewomen's eyes lingered on me, the girl with red hair, but the prince's presence shielded me.
After the dance ended, he led me to a small space near the edge of the hall. "You did well," he said. "Even if they whisper, even if they judge, you stood. That is all that matters tonight."
I exhaled, my body trembling with relief and exhaustion. For the first time in a long while, I felt… noticed, not for my hair, not for my difference, but for something I was capable of doing.
The ball continued around us, but I stayed near the prince, quietly observing, wondering what other challenges the night would bring. And despite the fear, despite the whispers, a small ember of pride flickered in my chest—tiny, fragile, but mine.