~Why do people find it so strange of me to not appreciate my current lifestyle? The way they see it, I want to be of an even higher status. I just want… a different one.~

It was a grey, gloomy Sunday afternoon in the country-side. A lone manor stood among 50 acres of dead grass and desolation. Although it always looked like it was about to rain, the clouds held their tears in.

The Manor of Burke was a proud estate. With 22 bedrooms (not including servants’ quarters) and 30 bathrooms it was well suited for a king.

Among the halls of the fine manor, a 12-year-old girl in a dark lavender dress, explored curiously. Burgandy drapes just barely touched the floor from the massive height of which they were hung. Portraits of past Dukes, Ladies, and Kings were placed on every free space of wall available. Arden was a child and had never been in such a large palace before.

Arden grew up in the prosperous neighborhood of Newford. Newford was a medium sized burrow that neighbored Hiram.

Because her mother died from child-birth, Arden was an only-child. Most mothers at that time and place had 7-8 children so she was often questioned of why she didn’t have any siblings.

Arden’s father was appointed by the Grand Duke to oversee Newford.

While living in Newford, Arden’s father often left the apartment complex in the servants’ care. He would go out and about for City Hall meetings, brunches, and sessions with the Grand Duke. Although she was rarely with him, Arden felt a close connection to him. He was her only blood-related family member she knew of that was left.

It was the best of times when he would come home late on cold winter nights, when the maids were asleep in their quarters and Arden would greet him at the front door with a hot cup of tea and smile as sweet as honey. The two of them would time with each other until the wee hours of the night, sharing stories and smiles. Those were only times in Arden’s life that she truly cherished.

One day, he never returned after going out.

Arden was sprawled out onto her bedroom floor, toying with an empty milk bottles. Arden had a collection of “bug bottles” buried in every corner of her room. They were everywhere- under pillows, window sills, and behind books on her shelf just to name a few of the many spots.

She vowed to release all off them in her step-sisters room someday.

She took the top of the milk bottle she was fiddling with and poked four small holes in with a pocket knife, dropping 2 cocroaches into the bottle. “If you two mate, you’ll be promoted to become generals of my army. Victory depends on your unborn cockroach babies, so mate my children, mate!”

Arden looked around her room and sighed. “That’s 14 in total now.” The corner of her eyes caught the clock. “Shit. I’m supposed to be downstairs for Kliyathorn’s birthday. I guess I can’t stall around forever.”

Kliyathorn’s 19th birthday had been meticulously planned for the past 9 months. She was in seek of a husband.

Arden walked into the ballroom slowly, taking in the captivating sight.

The ball room was ginormous. A crystal and gold chandelier was held on a ceiling at least 40 feet high. Dozens of tables with clean, white cloths complimented stunning, vibrantly colored flower centerpieces. The tables were arranged in a large circle so that dancing could take place in the center of the room. Light from the stained glass windows reflected off the shiny wooden floor. It all looked like it came out of a fairy tale.

Servants were hustling and bustling around each other to finish last-minute preparations, as Madame Vivian supervised. She was holding a plate of cookies.

“Arden!” Aunt Vivian called over. She sent a maid off to open the door for the first guests as Arden walked over. “Come over here at once.”

Arden approached Vivian, and just stood there.

“I want you to engage in this ball. Be more social-it won’t be too long before you’ll have to find yourself a husband as well.”

“I don’t want a husband,” She replied, starring at the floor. “And I don’t want to be here either.”

“Stop pouting and look lively. You’ve been raised in this palace for the past 6 month and all you do is mope and quite frankly, I’m tired of it. You would be out starving under some barnacle-covered dock in Hiram right now if it weren’t for us.”

Arden continued to stare at the floor.

Vivian sighed. She dropped the tin plate of shortbread cookies in Arden’s hands. “Offer these to the guests,” she demanded. She immediately dashed off again to welcome the first guests that arrived.

By the time 9 o’clock struck, Kliyathorn’s ball had reached its peak. At that point there were musicians playing a waltz as men and women danced across the floor. Others socialized as they sat at the tables.

Arden squeezed her way between aisles offering escargot on a silver platter.