Elegance incorporated, beauty of both natural and arranged nature, finesse and delicacy in each and every step. Those were the traits that needed to be externalized during that night. All of them rehearsed to a military precision. Not in a metaphorical way, but indeed each and every step, the length of each conversation thought out to maximize the prestige that such would bring to the king himself. None of those calculations were made by herself, as her task was to be the shining trophy, an hard fought goal for all the nobles in that castle. All for the prestige and ego of the king.<br/><br/>She played the part well because she was molded to play it. It was the core of her being for she knew little beyond that role. She took joy in it, thinking of herself as the catalyst of one of many stories that the books told her. She was the princess, and she was the part.<br/><br/>Her beauty was undeniable, skin pale and without any hint of imperfections. Her hair golden blonde, knotted and braided towards creating a natural crown on her own head, hours of hard work from her personal handmaidens. Her eyes of a deep dark green, resembling her father's own eyes, but with none of the attention and malice. To the king, she was pure, she was untouchable, she was a symbol of all that the royal family represented in his mind: Ascendance. Each and every detail of her posture had to be perfect, as to now show any fault or failure. The princess was more of a trophy then a proper woman, a trump card to be used in a future marriage that would further empower the kingdom of Ilansana, and with it, the king's grasp over the region.<br/><br/>The princes had a name. Helyna it was. Handpicked by her father, it was a name that even sounded unreachable to even the noblest of the pure blooded. And now, she was to mingle with the most illustrious of her father's court. After all, a ball would not be complete if the king could not further control all the people in the room, each one of them through many different means. Some of the younger men had to be convinced that she was their ultimate goal.<br/><br/>Her smile was heartwarming, but at the same time distant. It was something practiced over and over, to appear as if a goddess had descended upon a mere mortal and offered a small taste of her presence. The idle talk was never there to touch upon matters more complicated then the ins and outs of the court. Light gossip and the exaltation of her own king and father. She was a puppet, and while she did enjoy the place she had been placed upon, she still had strings on her. Helyna even had a path she needed to follow, as to meet the nobles in a specific order, all thought out by her father to maximize her interactions of those that were most devoted to him.<br/><br/>The perfect embodiment of the nobility of an elf, she was introducing herself to each and every noble that crossed her predestined path, sometimes taking sideways glances on others at her own age. Ripe was the word that her father used to define her age, rather than a number. Much was on her mind, specially social protocols that she needed to follow, yet some of her wanted a bit more. A romance. Every night she prayed that the king would find a young and beautiful noble for her to marry. But she already knew that marriage was not the end goal.<br/><br/>She wanted to defy him, to run away from the castle and find her own adventure. Not because of any latent hate or fear. It was because the books told her to. She wanted a torrid and wrong romance. Helyna craved the drama, to be the princess not of her own castle, but of her own story. Strife and effort were the part of the dashing prince that would rescue her from an oppressive father, her own objective was to be the princess that needed rescuing. That needed to be kissed to solve all the life's problems. She never wanted to reach the "happily ever after", but rather, she wanted that her life was a never ending story full of romance and princes.<br/><br/>She hated finishing a book. Such being the only time she mustered enough courage to demand something from the king. She wanted a never ending book. Such was resolved in the form of the king hiring a writer to constantly add more and more story to a book in a faster pace then she could devour those words. It was a gift she cherished, even if she did not know the full extension of what was a gift. Aside from the writer, nothing was ever requested from her. All was ready before she even considered it.<br/><br/>She smiled after taking a polite bow towards one of her father's military advisers. The look on his eyes were a mystery to her, as he was looking fiercely towards her long and regal dress, crafted from master tailors that she have never even met personally. Her words flowed out to strike a pleasant conversation, oblivious to the true desires of the adviser. Such was the ingenuous nature of the sheltered princess, having never met a man who had the courage to try to defile such an untouchable beauty. Both metaphorical and literal.