Whistledown Paper #3: Hark! The Ball Approaches!

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Spoiler

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Dear Reader,

Word has reached this author of an impending Debutante Ball and Royal Debut in the great city of Coronetia, and indeed, the feathers of the gilded geeselings of the capital's nobility are primped and prettily ruffled for the pending politics of polished and performative ROMANCE. The season begins in earnest for our cast of debutantes and bachelors, and this author has only introduced a mere portion of the greater web of relations at play in Coronetia.

Enter then the dynamic duo of the von Hügglhold bloodline. Noble ladies born from a hardened politician of the kingdom, these two most dignified geeselings squawk with the deep bellows of a sort of machismo-informed upbringing of privilege. However, it would be unfair for this author or for the rest of the fair peerage of Coronetia to sniff these dear sisters for their noble graces and be cantankerous to point out the smelled notes of bravado politics and daddy issues. Allow me to introduce the fair sisters: First, we have the elder Archduchess Haidenguten von Hümlyhome, a tall and mystifying woman who forsakes her father's name in an earnest attempt to separate the politics from the blood--or the name? In any case, we too also have the doughy Countess Quinethard von Hügglhold, a young girl of eager nature and certainly performative in her greener disposition. The Countess Quinethard is an interesting character--indeed she is intelligent, and at times charming, but this author only knows how well-bred one is to polish their smile so meticulously, so habitually… This author is not one to discount credit where it is due, of course, for again our Countess Quinethard is quite the proper example of a sensibly interesting debut--instigative in conversation, a mind word prodding, and indeed argumentative enough to stop just short of heated annoyance. Perhaps these are the inherited sensibilities of her father, so hardened in his deplorable politics as to inspire the necessary charismatic trappings to nurture a cub so intimately versed in the necessary performances of the capital's nobility. Though, this author is still wondering how much this Countess Quinethard inherited her father's less ideal traits in making friends...

It is from the word of the peerage that this author is informed of the Archduchess Hardenguten's historical sort of endearment she shares with none other than that Duke della Dalmattia, the pensive and inactive moderate. One wonders, indeed, how such a history will manifest in the auspices of this most regal social season in that fair capital of Coronetia. Oh, but dear reader, worry no more in regards to the depressed Dalmitta! For this author also bears great news of the Duke della Dalmitta's turn of heart, and his re-entry of force back into the fray of the Coronetian political scenes. Indeed, it is with pleasure this author reports on the Duke Dalmitta's latest extravagant performances in political practice, and even more tantalizing, to have had this author witness the foundation of such complex political machinations lay forth by the Duke firsthand! Indeed, as much as it pains this author to be so enthralled to the adjacent chippers and titters of the woodpeckers of politics, one still must bask in the better glories of the season--the spring sun, the sweet perfumes of the new blooms, and new beginnings. And yes, while this author is still taken with the whispers and titters of political yapping, one should wonder what OTHER machinations this Duke della Dalmattia has in mind in the midst of the election season. While the conventional door-to-door canvassing of noble electors has been observed and is indeed expected, this author has a hunch the Duke della Dalmattia may indeed be engaging in Coronetia's social season as another means of politicking--and indeed, a sensible and certainly valuable means to pursue for our Dukely della Dalmattia.

Where the entrance of the von Hügglhold sisters and the better news of Duke Darmus' renewed political vigor tickle this author and indeed the greater Coronetian peerage, it is fit to still think after the happenings among those of the more northern inclinations. The House von Viddlegiggle is an ancient lineage known for its historic stoicness, academic pursuits, and owlish wisdom. This author has benefitted from an intimate and close relationship with the star daughter of this most noble house, the fine Lady Tuliana von Viddlegiggle. While counted as only one of the many handsome kittens of the von Viddlegiggle litter, it is clear to this author that that Lady Tuliana is proud and capable lioness coos and claws among her more docile and perhaps domesticated kitten-kin. The Lady Tuliana maintains a diverse and vibrant social life, posited as the capital's most capable party planner and eccentric host. Indeed, the Lady Tuliana has hosted an eclectic spectrum of events for the fair nobility, and it is with pride, this author figureD, that the elder papa of the House von Viddlegiggle would hold his most gilded lioness daughter up high. But alas, the Lady Tuliana's father, that grey and mournful Lord Bridge von Viddlegiggle, seems to only count her as just one of many of his daughters, the Lady Tuliana a digit on the hand of our Lord Bridge. But indeed, while everyone may have five fingers upon each mitt, it is the thumb that premises the best functions of the rest of the fingers. Perhaps the Lady Tuliana is her father's thumb, and for some odd reason, our Lord Bridge has neglected to bejewel such a thumb with the gilded rings and bands of favor and reward that such a thumb is DESERVING.

Speaking of the fairest of the social season, one is reminded again of the cousin to the Duke Darmus della Dalmattia, that most elegant and noble Lady Maribel Priscilla-Madonna della Dalmattia--apparently, affectionately referred to as Lady Priscilla-Madonna, but Lady Maribel as far as anyone else is concerned. A budding rose who only felt the warmth of sixteen summers, the Marchioness is filled to the brim with the vigor and passions of youth, vision, and drive--certainly sans the youthful naivete one regrettably always expects from a sixteen-year-old. This author is endeared to see this young Lady Priscilla-Madonna glow so brightly during this season, indeed, it is a shame she is yet to debut properly. Perhaps this is for the better. After all, this author cannot imagine any particular match from the current flock of the capital this year, perhaps it is for the best that the Lady be saved for a much more FRUITFUL season. At any rate, dear reader, this author wishes to further detail the ambitious nature of this Lady Dalmattia. It is understood from this author that the Marchioness has been working intimately with the Royal Matchmaker, facilitating the ongoing season for the nobility, going on to even host a rehearsal ball for the impending Royal Debut. Yes, this young Lady certainly has her gaze set to something higher than that of mere arm candy and the mentioned cousin of the future-chancellor. Is it truly the one-horned Elasmo that represents that House della Dalmattia, or perhaps it is a great beefy BULL, adorned with two beautifully polished and sharpened horns, PRIMED for the success of the seasons, be it political or social.

Ah yes, that Debutante Ball rehearsal. What an exhilarating thing to be allowed to watch! It was quite moving to see a great multitude of those precious geeselings so earnestly ready to practice and PERFORM with grace and intent. Though, unfortunately, it is with regret this author recounts a most deplorable and sad scene, one of outright REJECTION! You see, dear reader, the Debutante Rehearsal sought to better acquaint the otherwise awkward nobility with common notions of courtship and well-intending nights of dance, as informed by the social season's expectations. Dear reader, the capital of Coronetia is crawling with Ithanian-informed houses of the peerage, with the two powerhouses essentially representing the haute-inclinations of Ithanian sensibilities are the House de la Fontaine et Fleur, mentioned in the previous missive, as well as the House Mont-Piede du Fleur. It goes to show there is certainly a love for flowers amongst the capital's Ithanians. Anyways, the House Mont-Piede du Fleur maintains a litter of debutantes and bachelors as vast as the House de la Fontaine et Fleur, though where the de la Fontaine et Fleur's benefit from their own family's matriarch being the primary overperformer, the House Mont-Piede du Fleur rather poetically enlisted the charisma and charms of Ser Flibbian-Florence Mont-Piede du Fleur.

A boisterous boy of poetic blonde curls and certainly of a particularly feminine disposition, it is with glee that this author first observed the games and quips of this young Ser. Indeed, it is this very same Ser Flibbian that earned the EXCLUSIVE invitation to an otherwise ladies-only soiree hosted by the Lady Babayalarooster Smith, a friend of that Madam Maria du l'Deceit, WHO HERSELF is sponsor to the Duke della Dalmattia. Charming and quaint as the Ser Flibbian is, however, this author is left wondering what to think of this young man after the traumas of the rehearsal, and as well as the rumors that have reached this author's ears. It is intriguing to hear Ser Flibbian be so grotesquely ridiculed by the debutantes upon his sudden leave from the rehearsal (hearsay is he passed wind in a most undignified way, prompting a hurried retreat), given his otherwise charismatic nature. But indeed, even the brightest and youngest of dainty flowers is open to root rot--one hears depraved rumors of the Ser Flibbian so wantonly and disrespectfully passing (wind) by in a most gracious Ser Haughwlwind, a knight of the purple certainly much more acknowledged as a better, FIRMER knight.

Of company to this author prior to the demonstrations of that flippant fencer and formerly flavorful Ser Flibbian was the fair and stylish Countess Jowenna Buncrack, a sister or daughter or cousin or aunt or niece or thrice-removed-twice-remembered-once-and-henceforth-first kinswoman of the presently retiring Chancellor Joe Buncrack. Yes, this Countess Jowenna is a young and able debutante of the season, certainly an ideal match for any and all bachelor--if not as a prize for her blood and familiar proximity to power, then for her elegance, style and wit. Had this writing hand the style of an artist, one would be compelled to illustrate the FORWARD fashions of this Countess Buncrack--one simply MUST see her hair! Indeed, this author was endeared with trifles of conversation, culminating in what this humble writer can only describe as the most tantalizing, tempting and teasing of a morsel of what a truly deserving or otherwise prestige-oriented bachelor may be wont to pursue.

And these are only a portion of the stories, and that most anticipated Debutante Ball approaches! Indeed, the Coronetian nobility shall dip their toes in the fresh waters of the social season, with this being the first, and therefore, most important, event to make an impression and establish a foundation in how any debutante wishes to be pursued, avoided or understood for the rest of the social season. This author even wonders if such nobility of the fair city of Coronetia aim to host their OWN personal debuts for their debutantes after the Royal Debut... What a fashionable thought indeed.

Coronetia still bubbles and boils with the passions of the social season, and this author can only bear to write so much, pray before this hand withers from this wrist! Settle, dear geeselings, as the winds of Coronetia may still bite with the memories of a loveless winter, but perhaps one can bear a better, more optimistic cheek to the warming rays of the springtime sun.

Until next time, dear Reader,

THE
Mistress of Whistledown