Beatriz looked around and saw a few of the girls, Zia being the closest. Uncertainly, she drifted over to her and stood a few feet away, feeling slightly comforted by the presence of someone familiar. She had to go on her tiptoes to see anything, and cursed herself for not wearing heels.
Zia spotted her, and waved a little, walking over. "Hey." She greeted with a small smile.
Zaera entered the ballroom and could feel a few of the gazes flitter her way. It wasn't unwelcome nor unexpected, she was the daughter of a well known politician and quite known in the modeling world as well. However, she was now one of the selected and had no mind for someone to attempt to "sweep her off her feet," not like she had that in the first place. Allowing herself to drift around the ballroom, observing the other selected and such, she held her smile of contempt and stick within the boundaries she confined herself to.
"Oh, erm, hello. Sorry, I didn't want to interrupt you or anything. I just don't know anyone, so, um - sorry, hi," she interrupted herself, looking down at the floor and cursing herself for her awkwardness. Why do you find it so difficult to act like a normal human being?
Zia smiled slightly. "It's fine. I honestly don't know that many people either." She said, smiling.
Beatriz giggled quietly. "I'm honestly not sure what I'm supposed to do or why I'm here. It doesn't really have anything to do with the Selection, other than… I don't know, I guess queens have to attend parties? I'm ranting, sorry. I do that when I'm nervous."
Zia nodded. "Yeah…" She said with a shrug. "Plus I'm worried that if I talked to any of the French people, I would like…mess up and offend them or something." She said, fiddling with her dress nervously.
"Oh, gods," Beatriz groaned, putting her hands over her face. "Do they at least have food? It's the only reason I haven't gone home yet," she admitted.
Zia laughed softly. "The food is over there." She gestured in the direction of the food. "I haven't had any yet."
Cassie finally managed to break away from the crowd and made her way over to the girls. "Hey!" She was practically sparkling and radiant with energy, a bright smile on her face. "You girls doing alright over here? I mean, the point is to actually make good impressions with the French so standing in the corner isn't going to do anyone any good." She giggled softly. "But this is me saying that so take my words with a grain of salt."
Beatriz actually jumped, flinching violently when Cassie came near. "I think it's a much better idea for me to stay over here. I'd honestly make everything worse, so I'm going to leave the 'talking to the French' to all the pretty people," she laughed quietly and anxiously.
"Oh please. If a writer like me can manage to not make a fool of herself while talking to these sophisticated people, I think you'll do just fine." She smiled encouragingly. "Or maybe I'm just confident because I speak fluent French. Who knows."
Zaera headed over to where most of the other girls were. She stepped up behind Cassie and overheard her mention she spoke French, "Oh? You speak French as well?"
She turned and shrugged with a smile. "Well, I kind of had to learn. A writer that can't speak multiple languages isn't really much of a writer, now are they?"
"I barely speak French, I have no social skills whatsoever, and I'm a writer as well. Along with being a musician, I don't think I can possible be more of an absolute nerd, which doesn't seem like the kind of thing that French aristocrats would enjoy," she finished, briefly leaning against the wall to stop the dizziness that had started blooming in her head.
Cassie waved Beatriz off. "Well considering I had to leave school at 6 years old, I think learning any language besides English and having basic writing skills is pretty impressive." She shrugged, her smile never fading.
"Of course," Zaera nodded with a smile. She looked at the Beatriz leaning against the wall, "I take it you ladies are enjoying your first ball at the palace?"
"Well obviously you're impressive. You practically ooze confidence, and you're incredible without having to have someone else teach you! Which is exactly why I'm going to leave the talking to all the pretty people, and stay here next to the wall until the party's over," she declared breathlessly. Then she turned to Zaera. "Not particularly," she laughed quietly. "It's giving me more anxiety than I'd like to have."
"I don't know who you're calling pretty because it certainly isn't me." She shook her head. "I'm the blandest girl here. The only reason I'm getting attention is that you could see this dress from outer space."
Beatriz scoffed, raising her eyebrows. "Are you actually kidding me? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."
"That's too bad," Zaera frowned slightly thinking for a moment, "I'm sure as the night goes on you'll become more comfortable. I have no doubt that the prince will be pulling us out to dance with him. Hopefully, it goes away by then."
Beatriz turned back to Zaera, paling. "Oh, gods," she muttered. "I'm never comfortable in social situations, and I'm praying to any god who ever existed that I don't have to dance. I'll manage to trip every single person of any importance in the room. I cannot dance."
"Well, of course, he will. We're the Selected, it's pretty much his job, isn't it?" She tossed a piece of hair out of her face. "I mean, it's safe to say that some people would be pretty upset if he didn't or if he forgot someone."
"No, I think I'd be fine. Hopefully he'll just forget me. I can't exactly reject a price, but I'd really prefer not to dance," Beatriz assured her, tucking a curl behind her ear.
"It is indeed," Zaera gave a slight nod to Cassie. She let out a sigh to Beatriz, "Well if you manage to trip into my father or one of my sisters tell them hi. I have no doubt one of them is here somewhere. But in all honesty I'm sure the prince will understand if you choose to simply talk instead of dancing if you explain."