Home

The Ball, hosted only once a year, was a lavish one. Scarlett hesitated for a moment on the shadowy lawn after she’d gotten out of the horseless carriage. The carriage was a new invention powered by steam, and the leather seats were still so new they squeaked when she had shifted her weight during the ride. Once in the grass, blades tickling her nearly bare feet, she twirled in her silken crimson skirts, admiring the way the many layers swished against the grass in the fading daylight. She picked up her skirts with one hand (she held her mask in the other) and spun again, her mask ribbons trailing behind her. Halfway through the spin, she slowed to a stop, and looked up at the venue, all sprawling porticos held up by elaborate pillars. The whole thing felt constructed almost just for the sake of having pillars. It sat on the lawn like a lion guarding its territory, a testament to some long ago heiress who had more money than she knew what to do with. Lights glowed in the many