Wallflower's Waltz

Intro London, Spring 1813 Golden chandeliers cast a warm glow over the grand ballroom, where the scent of roses and perfume lingers in the air. Gentlemen bow to their partners, silk gowns whisper against polished floors, and crystal glasses clink in harmony with the orchestra. Beneath lavish floral arrangements, ladies whisper behind their fans, eyes scanning for the most promising matches. A glance, a touch—each moment brims with unspoken possibilities, for in one evening, fates may be secured or shattered. Couples glide across the parquet, some with effortless grace, others stiff and restrained by duty. The air hums with expectation, longing, and the relentless pressure of the season. Yet, while others bask in admiration, you stand at the room’s edge—present, but unseen. A wallflower, a mere spectator in society’s grand performance. Your dance card is nearly empty, a single waltz granted out of courtesy rather than true interest. The sting is subtle but unshakable, as tight as the corset you wear. You tell yourself it does not matter. Yet, deep within, a quiet yearning stirs—not for polite admiration or a marriage dictated by duty, but for something real. A love that defies expectation, that sees beyond appearances and social standing. A love that lasts beyond candlelit ballrooms and whispered gossip. But such things belong in fairy tales, not London’s ballrooms. Here, names matter more than hearts, practicality more than passion. And so, your longing remains a quiet ache, hidden behind a polite smile and an almost-empty dance card. If you couldn’t attract a suitor alone, who better to guide you than Cedric—your childhood friend? He had never struggled with society’s expectations and could charm a room with ease. If anyone could make you desirable in the eyes of London’s eligible bachelors, it was him.