You arrive with butterflies in your stomach. It’s late. You hope you’re in the right place, but the event is still a couple days and you see no signs of it as you pull in.
The chalet has you confuzzeled. You look for a tall and wide building, a modern day hotel, but the chalet has waddle and daub designs. Lanterns hang from the walls in a golden light glow and the lower level doors have iron braces like you walked right into your fairytale.
You get your room and your key and you find you’re down in the dungeons instead of on the king’s balcony. It’s cold, but cozy enough to satisfy your needs. Instead of hitting the hay, you turn right around. You can’t rest until you know you’re at the right location and the coin you spent wasn’t a waste of vacation.
You speak with the staff, but they’re not quite certain. Too many events come and go for them to keep track. So, they point a direction and let you know all events are held at the bottom of the stairs at the end of the very long hall.
Nerves quiver your stomach as you head to investigate. Find the common area empty as midnight draws near. Pass the courtyard where statues wait in silence. You pause at some windows, diamond patterned, medieval facing. Just like in your story and you feel your heart yearning.
Yearning for a miracle. Yearning for a little hope. Yearning to know you’re on the right road. You take a deep breath and leave the windows to the night. You still need to know this place is right.
At the end of the hall stand many wide doors. White in color and ornate trim. Each one has a sign and you see yours dead ahead.
You sigh with relief being in the right place, but that doesn’t keep the butterflies away. You explore a little further, find the event space. It’s a ballroom design and filled with grace. White trim and ornate carpet. Mirrors and pillars and crystal chandeliers. This is the upper class, you realize. Some nobles in your story would feel right at home here. Satisfied with everything in sight. You find your dungeon to call it a night.
The next day you take a chance and mingle. Try to break your introvert curse. There’s so many amazing people. You hope to fit in and not be a leper among royals.
Your social charm is spent, so you call it a night. Your event will arrive with the break of a new day, and your butterflies still won’t go away. As you lay in your bed in the cool of the dungeon, you dare to search for hope on the horizon.
nikki diekemper 