When winter turns to spring, my father’s mansion turns into the biggest ballroom that my little town of Bloomdale has ever seen. Father hires musicians and chefs all in preparation for that one spring night. That one night that will be forgotten as quickly as the spring breeze changes to summer.

Tonight is that one spring night. Everything is ready. Our finest china rests atop each table. Every curtain is drawn so that the first spring moon can be seen. The ballroom floor has been freshly polished so that one can see their own reflection.

As is tradition, Father and I stand just outside our mansion doors greeting each guest as they carefully step down from their carriages and walk into the golden glow that draws them inside. By the time the bell tower has chimed ten o’clock, nearly all the guests have arrived.

Ascending the steps leading up into the main doorway, my eyes are mesmerized by the chandelier hanging above us ablaze with candles. The chandelier was something my father only lit during the annual Spring Ball unless there managed to be an event just as grand that required it.

Music echoes down the hall, the playful strings of a violin and the delicate notes of a piano reach my ears. I find myself following the beat of the song with each step. Entering the ballroom, I discover the source of my entrancement. The room is filled with people, some gossiping by the windows as others twirl about the glossy ballroom floor. The women wear their most eye-catching jewelry about their necks complimented by their colorful dresses with waists cinched in to suffocating proportions.

I lean onto the stair’s banister overlooking the crowd. Why had father created this event in the first place? He was much too old to dance.

“Cassandra!” Startled, I looked towards the sound of the voice to find a cheerful young man whose smile appeared all too frozen onto his face. “Looking as lovely as ever.”

“Thank you, Mr. Garner.” He offers me a hand as I descend the steps toward him. “But I really don’t deserve your compliments.”

Phillip Garner. A man of great fortune and very much a flirt. He asked me to marry him last Sunday but I told him I was postponing my answer. I’m not much for turning people down though if he asks me again I’ll do it with a smile on my face.

When we reach the ground floor, I find his hand still attached to mine despite my subtle attempts to remove it.

“Cassandra, I’ve been thinking.” That’s never a good sign. He reaches for my other hand but I hurriedly hide it behind my back. “I think maybe we should-”

“Mr. Garner.” I interrupt him. “I’m feeling rather flushed. I need some air.”

He releases my hand slowly, obviously disappointed at my reluctance. “Ah, yes. I see.” He brushes a hand through his red-orange hair. “Maybe later tonight, we will meet again on the ballroom floor.”

I offer a smile as a response and open the glass doors behind me so that I can walk out into the night air.

It’s much too cold outside for anyone to stand out here long, but I might have to do so until I no longer see Phillip in the doorway. Out here in this cool spring air, I feel less suffocated than under the pressure of watchful eyes from inside. Outside the only things capable of judging me are a patch of purple hydrangeas and the moon that seems ever so sorrowful tonight.

Suddenly, I feel a weight on my shoulders. With my hand, I pull it off to discover a man’s overcoat and to my right I find a darkened profile of a lean man with his hands dug deep into his pockets.

“Sir, I’m quite fine-” I fold the coat in my arms, preparing to return it.

“Just keep it. I can see you shivering from inside.” His voice is monotone though I can’t help but hear the warmth in it.

“Just as I can see the way you’re shivering right now.” I hide back my laugh with a gloved hand.

He notices but chooses to ignore it. “I much prefer the cold out here than to the crowd in there.”

I slip my arms through the sleeves of the coat. It does little to help and I find myself still shaking. “I’m not sure I agree.”

The silhouette turns and faces my direction, his face a mixture of moving shadows passing by the window. I hear the sound of his footsteps against the pavement before I feel him step closer. When he stands a foot from my face, I avert my eyes towards the open door that Phillip’s broad figure is now unexpectedly missing. As I hear another piece of music start, I get a glimpse of Phillip dancing center in the ballroom with a woman in a beautiful scarlet gown that almost swallows her whole. While I never felt a teaspoon of love for Phillip Garner, what I discover myself feeling in this moment is in between jealousy and regret.

“Would you care to dance?”

I gaze up onto his now lit face. His eyes are a dark brown that matches with a mess of curly hair covering his forehead. He wears nearly an exact copy of Phillip’s attire and in my personal opinion, looks more fitting of it.

“I would.” And then I lie. “But only because it might warm me up.”

His smile reflects the golden light that comes from inside. “T’was the reason I suggested it.”

Reaching out a hand for me to take, I feel his other hand slip behind my waist. I place mine atop his shoulder and our dance has begun. He sways me softly through the piano and twirls me throughout the violin. We would dance in the shadows and hide amongst the light. We hold each other tight as we spin barefoot on grass wet from recent showers. Had the music ended we might not have noticed. Not when we were dancing with strangers on that one spring night.

“Miss Cassandra?” I hear a woman’s voice echoing in my head. “Cassandra.”

My body aches as I shift under the weight of my covers. I roll onto my side, opening my eyes slightly so I can get a glimpse of who had the audacity to call for me at this hour.

To no surprise, it’s my housekeeper Miss Beckett standing by my bedside with a rather large, flamboyant dress draped in her arms. When she sees that I’m somewhat awake, she pushes her glasses up her humped nose so that I can see her beady eyes and then begins speaking in a voice most unpleasant to the ear.

“Wake up dearest, you’re going to be late!”

“Miss Beckett, what on earth are you talking about?” I rolled onto the other side so that I could hear her loud voice just one decibel quieter. “I made sure my schedule was completely empty for today.”

“But your father made arrangements for you to meet with Mr. Garner this afternoon.”

Mr. Garner! Why was it always Mr. Garner?

“He did?” I held back the disgust in my tone, I didn’t need another worker of mine spreading any more faulty rumors. Besides, it’s not like I despised him for his good taste in women, I just didn’t like his idea of us being married. Especially when I find it hard to name a single good quality about his being.

Miss Beckett came around the opposite side of the bed so that we were facing each other like before. “Yes, and it’s nearly one o’clock now.”

“I don’t see what the big rush is.” Knowing Phillip Garner’s affection towards me, he’d probably wait until evening if there was the slightest chance I would be arriving.

“Well, your father told me Mr. Garner has some rather important news to discuss with you. It sounded very urgent if you asked me.”

“Well, I didn’t.” I tossed the covers off my legs and stepped onto the cold wooden floor. “And it’ll have to wait until I’m dressed.”

Without a word spoken to Miss Beckett, she begins dressing me from head to toe in an outfit almost as grand as the dress I had worn the night before. I slip my hands through each ruffled-ended sleeve and hold my breath as she laces up the back of my dress. Better to not breathe than to not have a tiny waist.

Now sitting by my dresser, I watch her meticulous wrinkled hands as she loops my brown hair in and out of a bun. These are the few times in life when I wish I hadn’t been an only child, just so I could have an older sister who would braid my hair like Miss Beckett does each and every day.

Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I couldn’t help but compare my dress to a pink Petunia. Noting this, I would most likely throw it out tomorrow when Florence comes to visit. I preferred to look much more like a lady and less like a flower.

As I descended the steps from my bedroom, I overhead Phillip’s voice coming from the drawing-room. As loud as always.

I twisted the handle to the room and opened the door without hesitation. Phillip stands as I make my entrance, my father, who was closer to the fireplace, remained seated across from him. Judging from the increase in wrinkles across his forehead, my father wasn’t very pleased to see me.

“Cassandra.” Phillip smiles the same smile I had seen last night atop the ballroom steps. He takes a few quick steps over towards me. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

“What is it?” I raise an eyebrow as if I was curious. There are only two things in this world that Phillip Garner talks about: money and marriage. I suspected the latter.

Phillip takes my hand without hesitation all the while not straying his eyes from mine. “Let’s talk outside.” Had this been our first encounter, I might’ve felt my heartbeat at a moment like this.

I followed a step behind him as he led me through different halls of the mansion and finally out a set of glass doors and into a garden. When we finally stood and faced each other, he released my hand and returned his back to his side.

So far, this was the most shocking of the actions he had done. For this was the first time he had been the one to release my hand from his without me attempting to do so myself.

“Cassandra, I-”

I interrupted him and possibly his proposal. “Does my father know what you are about to say to me?”

Philip glanced towards the mansion and then back to me. “Why yes, I only told him a few moments ago.”

“And how did he react?”

“Well, at first he seemed a bit taken aback.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “but he congratulated me nonetheless.”

“He congratulated you?” My father congratulating anyone was unheard of. Much less, Phillip Garner. Nothing he’s done could be worth congratulating except-

“Yes.” He stepped closer as if coming in for a kiss. “Cassandra,” He smiled brighter than before, his eyes nearly piercing mine with the intensity at which he looked into them. “I’m getting married.”