Saving Rose

Chapter 3

Rose stared at her reflection, trying to ignore the sad eyes that stared back at her. She wore a long dress of white, one with gemstones woven through the fabric. It glittered and sparkled with each move she made, and matched the circlet of diamonds along her brow.

"You look like a shiny cloud," her brother muttered, glancing up from where he stood aimlessly swinging his wooden sword in a wide arc.

"You look beautiful," her mother corrected, shooting the young Prince a harried look.

"Is that my Rose beneath all of that?"

Rose turned at the sound of her father's voice. The King stood in the doorway, an expression of mild surprise on his face. He appraised her for a moment, before smiling.

"You're just as radiant as your mother was, the day we got married," he grinned.

"I'm not radiant," Rose shot back, returning to the mirror and shifting inside the overlarge dress. "I look ridiculous. Eric is right. I look like a big, dumb, shiny cloud."

"That's enough of that," her mother chastised quietly. "The robes are ceremonial, and you will wear them. Prince Andrew will be expecting it. And so will his mother and father."

Rose resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It seemed everyone was more concerned with how the Prince and his family would feel, than with how Rose felt about the whole thing. She tugged absentmindedly at the hem of her dress, trying to straighten out a cluster of gemstones that pocketed themselves along the seams. With a quick flick of her fingers, the stones flew out of the dress, rearranged themselves, and then slipped back into the folds of the fabric.

"Very advanced Gemwork," her mother murmured approvingly. Rose hadn't noticed her mother was watching, but she flushed at the compliment. She had always been naturally gifted with gems, even more than most, and it gave her a rush of pleasure to know that she was good at something she enjoyed.

"The royal family will be arriving soon," the King interjected. "Shall we head down to the courtyard?"

Rose swallowed hard. In mere minutes, she would be standing face to face with her destiny. And she was completely unprepared for it.

Following her mother and father through the halls, her brother brandished his sword at her, whacking her on the back of the legs. Though he was several years younger than her, he was already quite strong, and loved nothing more than practicing his fighting skills on anyone nearby. Rose yelped as the wood clapped against her legs, but the sting disappeared quickly, and she turned to him with a grin.

"You're not going to get away with that," she whispered, smile spreading into a mischievous grin. Face screwed up in concentration, Rose pulled the gemstones from across the castle toward her. Gems flew through the air, soaring high above the ground, and she reached her hand out toward them. They slowed to a stop before her, and for a moment she admired them as they hovered, glittering in the air. Dozens of fire diamonds and jungle rubies mixed with sugar sapphires to create an array of colour, reds and whites and oranges all reflecting off of one another.

As Eric lifted his sword and charged forward, Rose curled her fingers into a fist. The gemstones hurried to obey her command, locking together in the shape of a shield that dropped down to hover over her arm. As Eric swung the wooden sword, she lifted the shield before her. The sound of wood cracking and splintering apart echoed up the hall, where her mother and father promptly turned to discover the Prince on the floor, sword shattered into dozens of pieces before him as Rose stared down at him with a shield of glittering diamonds.

"What on earth are you two doing?" her mother hissed, gathering her robes and marching back toward them. "This is not the time to play around. Rose, gather those gemstones and march up with your father. You need to show the Prince that he is very welcome here. Eric, on your feet. We'll get you a sturdier sword in the morning."

Grumbling beneath her breath, Rose stomped toward her father, gemstones in tow. They followed behind her like a shimmering cloud of dust, floating hardly more than a foot off the ground.

"I know this isn't what you wanted," the King murmured from the corner of his mouth as the Queen continued to rant behind them. "But the Prince is a nice boy. You might even learn that you like him."

"I wont like him," Rose insisted, folding her arms across her chest. "Every girl I know has been matched with the same kind of boy. They're loud, and obnoxious, and they think they need to be a hero. Well, I don't need a hero. I can do things for myself."

"Please, Rose. Try to be open to this. I'm asking you to be kind."

Rose glanced up at the pleading in her father's eyes and sighed. "Fine," she agreed. But a thought whispered to her from the back of her mind, one that grew louder and louder as she made her way to the courtyard. She wasn't going to stand by and let anyone tell her what to do. Especially not some hot-headed, boisterous Prince.