I played my part perfectly, offering just the right balance of modest acknowledgment and confident presence to everyone I was introduced to after the small shoot. The exchange of pleasantries that promised nothing of continued interactions flowed easily.
An only slightly modified political dance I'd perfected a long time ago, in a palace far, far away.
> I guess this night was more like being a princess than I bargained for. <
When I finally extracted myself, I slipped toward a quieter corner of the ballroom dining - where less alcohol was being served, and therefore less people. I needed a moment away from the performance.
A subtle but persistent ache in my breasts had been growing throughout the evening. I tried discreetly to press my hand against the side of one while retrieving a flute of water. But I can't tell if it is the outfit or if this is… some other sign of a change. The very sort I'd been so worried about.
"Uncomfortable in the spotlight?"
