A Small Taste of Freedom

Georgiana breathed heavily through her nose, her flushed face feeling unnaturally warm as she searched in vain through the crowded ballroom, the masked dancers now garish in their gaudy, bright colors. She fought her way through them, slipping through the vacillating crowd like water. Despite her many so-called faults, even her mother could never deny that she had grace.

The frilled mane of a lion’s mask disappeared behind a pillar and her heart sped up. This caused her to pause for a moment as she examined her feelings. Why was she following this man? Was it an illogically sudden affection? Was it anger at his impertinence? No, she realized. It was something new, something different from the monotonous life of dancing, parties, and false politeness she had been forced to live for the past two and twenty years.

And she was not willing to sacrifice this feeling of freedom. Emboldened, she picked up the hem of her skirt, quickening her pace. Finding the corridor empty, she ran into the night.

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