100 Theme Challenge #82

82. Dance

Rowan's big sister had to get married. Well, they were only one year apart, but she was the heir of the family, and Rowan was perfectly fine with that. He wouldn't have to deal with any responsibilities other than his own, and he had enough as it was. So, his sister was of age to be married, in fact she was even a bit old to be still single, so they thought organizing a ball would ease up some introductions and create the perfect environment to find the perfect suitor. Rowan was a bit exasperated of their parents' behaviors, but he understood they only wanted what was best for them. And being a thirty-year-old cat lady wasn't well perceived by most of the society, quite unfortunately. It was a shame, really. Rowan had less pressure than his sister, since he wasn't the oldest, but they were in their twenties. Sure, he had a few relationships before, but they never had been serious enough to consider marriage. He wasn't a player but women liked him a bit too much for some reason.

"I can't believe they're actually doing this." Randa whined to him the evening of the event. She wasn't as comprehensive as him, and Rowan understood, considering it was her love life they were trying to deal with.

"It won't be that bad. The worst thing that can happen is old men trying to make you dance," he chuckled, and he saw the small smile she attempted to hide.

"Or having to dance with you," she retorted, and he scoffed.

"I'm not that incompetent, sister."

"Sure, you did improve since last time. I'm sure you won't step on more than two girls' toes tonight."

She laughed, and he couldn't help but join her. That probably would happen, he always had been a bit clumsy.

"All right. I'll let you prepare yourself, I have a nap to take," he smirked at her and she threw a pillow at him, which he avoided with a laugh. He exited her bedroom and returned to his own, where sleep waited for him.

Sometime later, he began to prepare himself as well, whining for the form when his mother fussed around him to make him look…

"As handsome as you were born to be." He rolled his eyes.

"Tonight is not for me, Mother. I don't understand why I must dress like this," he complained, buttoning up his crisp white shirt.

"Because why not take down two birds with one stone, darling?"

"I don't feel like taking down any bird tonight," he mumbled. "I want to find someone for Randa, ask him to go to her, and watch her get all flustered."

That earned him a light slap on the arm. "Now, I want to behave correctly tonight. Don't drink too much, and please don't hang with that Appleton girl."

He frowned. "Why can't I?"

"Because people might think you're a couple, and it's not proper."

"Not proper? It's not like we're behaving improperly, we're simply talking, and I like her. She's funny."

His mother's face twisted in a scowl. "Do not talk back to me, young man, and do as I say instead."

She was way too much strict to him, even at his age. Sometimes he regretted he didn't take that job in the city and didn't move out, but he couldn't bring himself to abandon Randa to them. She didn't deserve it.

He sighed and continued to dress, eager for her to let him go. She could be frustrating when she wanted to be.

His sister looked lovely in her dress, her hair high in a hairdo he couldn't begin to comprehend, and her eyes were enhanced with light makeup.

"Men will fall at your feet tonight, dear sister."

"Possibly, and Father and Mother will finally stop worrying about me," she sighed, before taking him in. You don't look half as bad yourself, you know. Eager to please?"

"Mother's orders. I shall burn this torture first thing tomorrow." He pointed at his bowtie, and Randa took his arm.

"The pain is worth it, little brother. Now, come on, we'll be late."

"All the better to make an entrance, if you ask me."

They made their way to the ballroom, where a lot of people were already chatting and drinking under powder and false pretenses. The room was tastefully decorated for the occasion, the chandeliers giving that intimate atmosphere, and the servants even wore masks. Their parents had undone themselves for Randa.

Rowan didn't like these festivities; he believed it was a waste of breath and energy, to pretend to be someone else for one night to receive false compliments and appreciative glances. He didn't want to live a certain way to please people he had no care for. This was why their parents obliged his sister to get married against her will, and the reason he couldn't talk to his friend, who just happened to be a woman. Why these rules, if everyone was unpleased and unhappy with them?

"What are you thinking about, Rowan?" Randa asked, and he looked down at her. They'd enter the room and were looking for their parents so they could begin to introduce Randa to gentlemen.

"Nothing, just how I wished I was in my bed instead of here in those stupid clothes." He moved and felt his tail coat brush the back of his legs.

"It'll go faster if you stop brooding. Here," she took a glass from a servant's tray. "Drink this, relax. How you can be grumpy almost all the time is beyond me."

"I'm not brooding," he refrained from gritting his teeth together.

"Aah, there you are!" Their father saluted them, and took Randa's arm and together, they disappear through the crowd, leaving Rowan on his own. Sighing, he took another cup from a tray and began to look for his friend that his mother hated.




(What is 100TC?)

There will be a sequel. I didn't even plan for this story to be this big, but I was writing the intro and suddenly realized I wrote 800 words, so the most interesting part will come tomorrow.