~Grace~
We are told to wait outside. Not just Mila and me, but every woman attending the ball. According to their tradition, the men enter first; we are to be the final flourish.
Kate claimed this was an opportunity for every woman to make an entrance worth admiring. I don't see the harm in a bit of spectacle, but it feels inherently unfair that those who arrived an hour early must wait for every eligible bachelor and pack official to settle in first.
When we are finally granted entry, the "grand entrance" Kate promised vanishes. We flood in like a flock of startled birds, defying the very purpose of making us wait. Dozens of women descend the staircases in a blurred parade of emerald and forest green. As soon as they reach the floor, their dates whisk them toward the tables littering the far side of the ballroom.
