3 September 2012
We all froze and all talking ceased. I looked up at the man, who I did not recognize. I was tempted to let go of the basket- our fingers had touched- but any rustle could result in a stern scolding. So I stayed still.
The man cleared his throat. "Announcing Sir Jonathon Callaway the Third!"
A young man no older than 21 stepped out, highly decorated in jewels and gold and whatnot. Everyone clapped, even I... After Douglas nudged me and said to do so.
"Sorry," I uttered quietly.
"We will begin dance requests after dinner.
I picked up my tea cup and sipped it slowly, biting into a scone after I put it down. Some type of meat sat on my plate. I poked it with my fork and it seemed to shudder. I pushed my plate away. Not happening.
I picked up the roll, still warm, and ate that, along with the rest of my tea and soup before a string quintet began to play. My mother stood up, as did I, and she looped her arm in mine.
"Remember," she said without looking at me. "Chin up. Back straight. Curtsy. I know you haven't been."
I rolled my eyes. "Yeesss, Mother."
"Excuse me," a voice came from behind me.
I thought itd be Douglas, but it wasn't. It was somebody else.
"May I have this dance?"
If Worse Comes To Worst-2 • Opuss № I