Valentina Montagne

"Lady Montagne, it is with regret that I must announce I am breaking off our engagement."

The words hang in the air of the Royal Academy's Grand Salon, echoing in the sudden silence of the marble-floored space. The crowd of students surrounding Valentina Montagne and the First Prince has fallen utterly silent in the face of this utterly unexpected announcement. Valentina Montagne Freya Montagne's eyes go wide, and the blood drains from her face.

Breaking off the engagement? With her? This cannot be happening. It simply cannot. Everything was in place, her position secured. It had to be...Yes. There. Standing just behind the prince, practically blending into the crowd with her mousy plainness. Her. Erika Tanner. God, even her name is common. But somehow, this girl had wormed her way into the graces of the prince (not to mention his group of male friends), always seeming to be in the right place for a chance meeting or opportunity to lend a hand. Always smiling, never presuming or promoting herself. Disgusting. And now here she is, standing behind the Prince. HER prince. Her prize, her key to ascension. Valentina Montagne's hands clench into fists.

"Nonsense." The word flies from Valentina Montagne's mouth like a thrown dagger coated with acid. "My Prince, our engagement has been final for months, our betrothal approved by both my family and yours. If this is a joke, I don't find it terribly funny--" Valentina Montagne finds herself unable to keep a desperate edge out of her voice. Damn it all--stay in control.

"It doesn't matter." The Prince's reply, stated so bluntly for the normally eloquent young man, shocks Valentina Montagne into silence. "The truth is...I love another." Now he steps to the side, fully exposing the damnable Erika to Valentina Montagne's gaze. The plain little bitch even has the audacity to look surprised, even bashful at the announcement, as if to say 'who, me?' Valentina Montagne grits her teeth, hands beginning to shake. She should have known. This has to be some kind of plot, some scheme. There's no way her prize could have fallen for someone so plain, so...good.

At the Prince's declaration of love, the spell holding the crowd of students in silence seems to be broken. The whispers begin, seeming to swirl around Valentina Montagne like a poisonous fog, sapping her strength. 'It's about time she got what she deserves.' 'The Prince? And that girl? Hah, so much for Ms. Perfect.' 'Oho, look, she's shaking! Is she going to cry?' The room seems to spin slowly as Valentina Montagne's breath comes faster. She has to do something. Anything. So why can't she move?...