The ball was Emmah Fairfax's crowning moment, or so she thought. She had received help from an unexpected mage, the phantom midwife. Of course, there was a price to pay for her help but she had helped Emmah with the dress, make-up and all the shimmer which she needed.
She had timed her arrival perfectly, choosing a moment when all the debutantes had finished making their entrance and she walked in, dazzling everyone like the heroine of a romantic movie.
And her plan had worked perfectly. The crown princess had been forced to declare her the beauty of the season, which Emmah was certain Sigrid had been loathe to do. The dark look of fury in her eyes said so.
After the declaration, came the suitors. They flocked to her like lovesick birds, cawing and scratching, pining for her attention. After tonight, she was sure that she would be on her way to greatness.
