“Have you decided on your dress?” Aunt Rose continued, oblivious to her niece’s blatant disinterest.
Sophia shook her head.
“Sophia!” Aunt Rose reprimanded. “I arranged for Clara to show you the dresses much earlier in the week. At this point, you should have already chosen one for yourself and even tried it on.”
“My apologies, Aunt Rose,” she muttered sheepishly. “I suppose it must have slipped my mind.”
The truth was, it had not slipped her mind. In fact, the rows of dresses that sat neatly at the corner of her dressing room taunted her each time she had made her way in there. To Sophia, balls represented everything that she hoped to avoid —the hordes of people, the implicit judgements that marked every interaction, and the weight of expectations on one’s shoulders to walk out with the most well-suited partner.
“My dear, you are at an age where you must not let these things slip your mind,” Aunt Rose emphasised, “However, I know you better in this world than anyone else and therefore had already anticipated that you would not choose the dress yourself. But not to worry, I already took the liberty of choosing one for you.”
“Is that so?” Sophia’s curiosity was piqued ever so slightly.
“Yes, and I am certain that you will love it just as much as I do,” her aunt reassured. “It belonged to your mother. In fact, it was one of her favorite dresses.”
Sophia stiffened immediately at the mention of her late mother. Aunt Rose noticed the apparent change in her demeanor and touched her hand gently.
“If she were here today, she would have loved to see you in it as you attend your first ball in years,” she noted. “You may think of it as your debut.”
“Can you show me the dress?” Sophia’s voice came out hoarse, as though she had just finished crying. She could not help herself; every time she spoke of her family, she got choked up like this.
“But do you not want to finish your breakfast?”
Sophia shook her head, pushing the plate away from her.
“I have lost my appetite.”
“Very well, then.” Her aunt got up from her place at the table and gestured to Sophia to follow her. The two arrived in Sophia’s dressing room, where an emerald green dress hung in the corner.
“There it is,” her aunt said, nudging her encouragingly.
“I have never seen it before.” Sophia caressed the silky fabric which gilded under her delicate hands effortlessly. “It is beautiful.”
“It was one that your father gave her in the early years of their marriage. He had gotten it made from Paris, especially for her. I remember your mother thought of this dress as one of her most beloved possessions.” Her aunt had a wistful edge to her voice as she recalled the memories.
Sophia tried to imagine what her mother must have looked like in that dress. Despite not having seen her for many years, her mother’s image was sharp in her brain, as though they had seen each other just this morning. Her heart felt heavy, and she exhaled a sigh.
“I am sure that if she was here, she would have wanted to pass it down to her daughter.” Her aunts’ comforting hand landed on her shoulder once again.
“We do not know that,” Sophia’s words came out more jaded than she had intended them to sound. “When the accident took her life, and my father’s and my sister’s… all their thoughts died with them. We may never know what they truly would have wanted. All we do is ponder and make assumptions.”
It had been eleven years since the accident that turned Sophia’s entire world upside down. Many of those that were around her had told her that it gets easier with time since you learn to accept what happened, but for Sophia, she only grew more jaded as the years passed by.It was unfortunate for someone as young as herself. At her age, she should have been concerning herself with girlish passions and the naivety that comes with youth, but Sophia was filled with cynicism and had bleak prospects for her own future.
“My dear, how many times have I told you to improve your outlook on life?” Her aunt’s tone was soft. “It does you no good to have such a bleak perspective on things.”
Sophia could hear the love in her aunt’s voice. She was the closest thing to a parent that Sophia had left, and the bond that both ladies shared was unlike any other.
“I suppose I don’t know what else to think,” Sophia replied, pursing her lips. “It is difficult to find a silver lining for my grief.”
A small silence hung between the two of them. Sophia could see that her words had impacted her aunt greatly and guilt began to seep in. After all, while Sophia had lost her mother, her aunt had lost her sister.
“I am so sorry, Aunt Rose,” she said, squeezing her aunt’s hand gently. “I will try and fix my mood.”
“I believe that attending the ball tonight will be beneficial for you in many ways,” Aunt Rose suggested. “You must seek new connections as it not right for a young lady like yourself to be shut away at home all day.”
“I do not need any new connections. I already have you and Cecil to keep me company.” She smiled, looking down at her feet where an orange cat was busy purring to grab her attention. She knelt down and began to pet him.
“My dear, I meant connections that lead to companionship,” her aunt emphasized. “I am hopeful that tonight you shall meet the man who will become your husband.”
