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MidReal Story
The Reckless Heart
Scenario:A novel with the same atmosphere as the series Bridgerton and The buccaneers. A novel set in the 1870s. A dramatic novel filled with stolen events. Love stories and the heroes of the novel. A girl with brown hair, brown eyes, white skin, pink cheeks and lips suffered throughout the novel. Albert is a man with wavy brown hair and blue eyes. 1870s fashion
* **Time period:** 19th century (Victorian period or close to it).
* **Aristocratic setting:** Palaces, balls, arranged marriages, class struggles.
* **Weather and setting:** England (or Europe) has a grayish climate.
Weather: Spring, flowers, beautiful colors, and green plants everywhere.
Create my version of this story
Eleanor
She is a young woman who has been sheltered in the countryside after losing her parents to illness. She is dreamy, heartbroken, and resilient. She longs for love and connection, yet fears rejection due to her isolated upbringing. Upon moving to London, she experiences her first ball and encounters Albert, a handsome man who captivates her attention and heart.
Albert
He is a wealthy young man from a good family in London. He is charming, considerate, and kindhearted. At his first ball, he meets Eleanor and feels an instant connection, drawn to her innocence and beauty. Despite being surrounded by societal expectations and his family's arrangements for marriage, Albert seeks genuine emotions and connection with her.
Isabella
She is Lucien's sister and Albert's childhood friend. She is lively, protective, and sociable. Isabella plays an important role as Lucien's confidante and acts as a bridge between the two main characters, influencing their interactions significantly. Her relationship with Albert dates back to childhood, adding depth to the narrative.
It was the 1870s.
In the palace, the ball was about to start.
The guests had begun to arrive.
Women in beautiful gowns, men in suits and ties, all gathered in the hall.
The sound of music and people's conversations filled the air.
Some were dancing, while others were standing in corners talking.
The atmosphere was wonderful.
I also wanted to be a part of such a grand ball, but I had never been given the chance.
I had lost my parents at a young age and was living with my uncle and auntie in the countryside.
They didn't have much wealth, so they couldn't afford to take me to such events.
I was heartbroken, but I didn't want to lose hope.
One day, I would also attend a grand ball like this one.
I just didn't know when that day would come.
The clock struck nine, and everyone had already arrived at the ball.
Standing in the shadows of the grand staircase, I press my palm against the cold marble pillar.
Below me, the dancers move in unison, their steps graceful and fluid.
A woman in emerald silk spins past, her skirts brushing the polished floor.
Her partner, a man in a black tuxedo, bows low over her hand before they continue to dance.
The music swirls around them, a waltz of strings and horns.
I watch them with a mixture of longing and envy.
My own dress is plain brown cotton, coarse against my skin.
I imagine what it would be like to wear a gown like hers, to feel the softness of silk against my skin.
Above me, the crystal chandelier glitters like diamonds in the candlelight.
Its reflection shimmers on the polished floor below, creating an illusion of a second chandelier hovering just above the dancers' heads.
I lift my hand, as if accepting an invitation to dance.
I take a small step forward, my worn shoes peeking out from beneath my hem.
A passing servant gives me a strange look, and I quickly lower my arm.
A woman in a lavender gown stops at the top of the stairs, her eyes meeting mine.
She pauses, as if considering something.
Then she smiles and makes her way toward me.
I recognize her as Lady Margaret, a distant acquaintance of my late mother's.
She's older than I remember, with silver threads in her dark hair.
Her silk skirts rustle against the marble floor as she walks.
"My dear Eleanor," she says, touching my arm.
"You shouldn't hide in shadows. Come with me."
Before I can respond, she's leading me down the corridor.
Her grip on my arm is firm, brooking no argument.
We pass several doors before we reach hers.
Inside, her maid is waiting for us.
"Bring me the blue gown," Lady Margaret says, gesturing to a chair in front of a mirror.
"I have several gowns in my quarters here," she explains to me.
"Why are you doing this for me?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Lady Margaret smiles gently, her eyes softening.
"Your mother once did the same for me, and it's time I repay that kindness."
The maid helps me out of my brown cotton dress, her experienced hands making quick work of the buttons.
She lifts the blue silk gown carefully over my head, the fabric whispering against my skin.
As she fastens the corset, I hold my breath with each pull of the laces.
The bodice tightens around my frame, molding to my shape.
Lady Margaret circles me, adjusting the drape of the skirts and smoothing wrinkles from the fabric.
The maid pins my hair up in an elegant style, securing it with pearl-tipped pins from Lady Margaret's own collection.
My fingers trace the delicate beadwork at the neckline, hardly believing the transformation taking place.
When Lady Margaret guides me toward her full-length mirror, I hesitate, still seeing myself as a plain country girl in cotton.
But as my reflection emerges, I see not just a girl in a borrowed gown, but a promise fulfilled.
Lady Margaret grasps my gloved hand, her fingers intertwining with mine.
She leads me down the dimly lit corridor, the sound of our footsteps echoing against the walls.
The rustle of my borrowed silk gown accompanies us, a constant reminder of the transformation.
Ahead, the golden glow of the ballroom beckons like a haven.
I struggle to match Lady Margaret's confident pace in the unfamiliar heeled shoes.
The corset constricts my breathing, and I find myself taking shallow gasps.
As we approach the entrance, she pauses to adjust my necklace and smooth my skirts one final time.
The massive doors stand open before us, revealing a sea of glittering chandeliers and swirling dancers.
My heart pounds against the tight corset as several heads turn our way.
Lady Margaret squeezes my hand reassuringly before releasing it.
We step forward together, our presence announced by the footman stationed at the entrance.