Little Star

Chapter One

Aramina's POV (she'll talk like a little kid but her POV will not sound like a little kid's...beCAUSE. Oh, and she's got red eyes)

One thing you guys should know is that in this story, a noble will normally age like a human until they have reached the human age of 18. They'll stop growing at that age and become adults according to noble standards at 200 years old.

"Daddy, no!"

I squealed and ran away from my father who was trying to convince me to get ready for school, except I was in no mood to go to school today. At all. Like, at all! They were going to hold a dance class today and I hated dance classes! Why? Because today was Wednesday's dance class, which was the dance class our melodramatic dance teacher took, and according to that melodramatic dance teacher of ours, the definition of dance was swinging the children around in the air and throwing them across the room. What was worse was that our parents never believed us because our melodramatic dance teacher always acted very nice in front of them and our other teachers. My dad was maybe the only parent who did look like he would believe me, but our melodramatic dance teacher knew that and was sure to never raise a finger on me. It still didn't make me like her or her dance classes any better.

"Aramina, get back over here!"

I heard my dad yell and come after me, propelling me to push myself faster down the stairs, and I was going pretty fast too.

Until I tripped over my own two feet and went sliding down the last few steps.

"Aramina!"

I heard Daddy yell again and come racing towards me as I slowly sat up on the floor, rubbing my head, before raising my eyes to meet Daddy's blue eyes which did not match my own at all. The two of us looked nothing alike; his hair was blonde and my hair was brown, while his eyes were blue and my eyes were red. But that was because I knew I was adopted. I knew he'd found me as a baby in a basket on his doorstep four years ago. It never bothered either of us though. I loved Daddy anyhow, and I was pretty sure he did too. Until now at least.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?"

Daddy crouched down to my level and checked my face to see if I had sustained any injuries in my mini fall. But I knew I was completely fine, and soon Daddy looked sure about that too. I could've just told him I was fine, but after I fell off the terrace last summer and fractured my arm but somehow never felt the pain until a few days later, Daddy stopped trusting my judgment on wounds. And he also stopped trusting me to be on my own.

"Actually, Daddy." A bright idea suddenly popped into my head and I made a whiny face, pretending to sniffle a little. "I thwink my ankle hurts a lwittle. So no school?"

Daddy stared down at me for a moment, eyes narrowed, before he suddenly grabbed me by the ankle which I said was hurting and used that to dangle me in the air, upside down.

"Daddy!" I screeched and frantically looked up at him, only to find him smirking victoriously.

"Do you want me to put you down?"

"Yes!"

"Then admit that your ankle's perfectly fine."

"No!"

Daddy's look of victory was immediately wiped away, replaced instead with a look of concern, and he hurriedly set me down on the floor.

"I'm sorry, baby." He muttered while hugging me softly. "I had no-"

"It's okay, Daddy." I giggled a little. "I'm sworry too." Then I zoomed away from his arms.

It took somewhat longer than usual, but Daddy finally managed to get me ready for school, completely against my will, mind you, and threatened me that if he got any complaint of me misbehaving at school, then I won't get any dessert with dinner tonight. Now if there was anything I loved more than I hated Wednesday dance class, then it was dessert. Which meant that I really had to behave well at school today. Which also meant that I couldn't put the lizard we had found in the school garden into our principal's glass of water when she would come in to teach us dance. It could be traced back to me too easily, and while she wouldn't use me like a hammer in hammer throw like she would've done for any other child, she would most certainly complain to Daddy and act like the victim. Meaning no dessert for me, and I refused to accept that. The chime of the doorbell echoed throughout the house and Daddy walked away to open the door while I continued to finish the glass of milk which was the one thing I wasn't being fussy about this morning.