Another insert from Becky's novel in progress

She felt as well as saw the eyes of all the people in the ballroom shift to focus on her as she stepped out in royal elegance onto the precipice of the long, grand staircase. Putting on the face of authority with the hint of a warm smile, she faced the crowd of people. It seemed, for a moment, that time stopped, and every person was looking at her at the exact same moment she was looking at them. The magic of that night and the beauty of everyone in the crowd froze for just a second in her mind; every turning head stopped, no breath was taken, every swish of gown and rustle of people ceased and she was able to take it all in and create a snapshot in her mind. Lords, ladies, nobles, and high society had all gathered here tonight, in an array of colors that littered the room. Dresses of silken red, shinning yellow, orange, blue, white, and especially silver and gold bedecked the women of the ballroom along with glimmering jewels that hung around the necks of the few talented people. The necklaces and jewels being the prize of tonight’s events, they were worn with pride at this annual ball. Every person in that room looked magnificent in wonderful hues and she, in contrast, wore a long silk black gown that clung to her bosom and flared out just past the knee. She wore elbow high black gloves and her long black hair had been curled and pinned around her head with a raven’s feather placed into the curls as a representation of her house. Around her neck she wore large onyx jewels that dazzled in the candlelight of the chandelier. She stood for what seemed like an eternity looking out on the crowd, but what in reality was just a moment and as quickly as she felt time had stopped, it started up again and the swell of voices and clapping echoed throughout the hall, bouncing off the high domed ceiling. She was princess Anna’lia Celestia Durthien of Imendria and she stood in wonder at all the people who had gathered in her ballroom that night. She knew that as princess it was expected of her to be brave, political, and subjective, but all she felt at this moment as the crowd of beautifully dressed people below cheered for her, was the magic and wonder of the evening. She gave a quick smile of appreciation for the warm welcome and took one step down the staircase, her black skirts swishing around her ankles at the movement, as her mother walked out to top of the stairs.
Her mother, in an elegant and beautiful deep purple dress that poofed out into a large skirt and cut to hang off the shoulder, doused in embroidered beads and designs, and trimmed with downy dove feathers around the neckline as a symbol of her original house before she had married Anna’lia’s father.