đź’śNicole
"Don't fidget, Nikolayushka. I swear, if you embarrass your father tonight, I will ensure you spend the rest of the year locked in that pink disaster of Grace's room."
I sighed internally, leaning against the cold marble of the wall. Mama, was standing opposite me, stiff and immaculate in a deep emerald velvet gown that emphasized her sharp angles.
"You will smile. You will speak only when spoken to. You will remember that everything you do reflects on the alliance. Do not bring up any of your nonsense. Do not make jokes. Do not forget that these are the Greco family. They are traditional. They are stiff. You need to maintain your composure."
I was bored to death. I wondered if these were even necessary instructions, or if Mama just enjoyed the sound of her own voice telling me off. I was wearing a navy blue sheath dress, the most boring, Grace-approved piece in my closet and my hair was pulled back tightly. I felt like a brightly wrapped package of utter discomfort.
