How To Do It Like A Princess

How To Do It Like A Princess-Chapter 1

Chapter One

Isaac. It’s a nice name when you think about it, right? And it was number 42 on that list of most popular boy names. So it can’t be that bad. Prince Isaac. Now, that sounds a lot more appealing. Especially when all you’ve ever wanted was to be a princess.

However, the Isaac that was standing in front of my door made me want to do ridiculously un-princess like things like rip off all his clothes. Which looked so soft and were fitting him so beautifully, I decided that it would be a real shame to spoil them. So I sat tight, running back to my room from where I was standing strategically at the top of the stairs and jumped into my bed.

This day. This day, when I would meet the guy I have been hearing about for a long time. I wasn’t in one of those crazy arranged marriages, where the girl is forced to marry some man double her age. Prince Isaac was hardly a prince, considering Britain was a democracy. But they needed someone who had been brought up knowing her future, accepting her future and someone who would make a good wife. Cue me, going to all the right schools, knowing all the right things, knowing I would make, one day, an excellent queen.

My parents had made sure I had all my etiquette lessons and knew all the right people. My dad owned a leading newspaper. My mother, as lovely as she could be, was a total social climber and was best friends with Isaac’s mother. It would be the perfect marriage. Especially since Prince Isaac was so hot.

I grew up watching him on TV, and, once he hit around 14, everyone knew he would grow up to put Orlando Bloom to shame. And, at 18, he already was. In real life, though, it was just like having an angel walk through your front door, casual like that. He had laughed, husky and deep, shot a winning smile at my mother and engulfed my father’s hand in his strong grip. And very big hands.

You know what they say about big hands.

‘Blair!’ There was a screechy shout from downstairs. I winced, but quickly got up and made myself decent as I heard my mother’s footsteps nearing my door. She strode into my room, no knock, and flung open the curtains. Her voice was dangerously low as she spoke, ‘Listen to me, Blair. Make yourself presentable and get yourself downstairs in two minutes. We have the Royal Family in our house and this is not the time to play around!’ Her voice was too high and shrill for my liking.

‘I’m here, Mum. Don’t worry. I’m not going to run off. I know what to do.’ I looked in the mirror one last time, pulling half of my wavy hair behind my shoulders, the other half in front. I stared at my reflection hard. I had accepted my ‘destiny’ a long time ago. My first word was ‘princess’. Any rebelliousness I had was last year and off the radar. My thoughts and actions never had to be the same. My dress went to above my knees and was a 50s styles floral dress. My shoes were flat and my make up was minimal. I looked perfect.

My heart was jumping out of my chest. My eyes were too wide. I was biting my lip like a hungry dog with a bone. Prince Isaac was downstairs, his chuckle carrying all the way up to my room, like...

Like sex for your ears.

I gave myself a shocked look and pulled myself together. I was better than some hormone-crazed teenage girl. I was going to be a princess.

Another deep breath. Another long, hard look. I was ready.

I walked to the living and almost turned around when I saw a brown curly hair. The signature brown curly hair that belonged to Prince Isaac. It was so shiny! There were rumours about how long it took him to get his hair ready from ‘He spends a whole day every week at the salon’ to ‘Three hours with a warm bath towel wrapped around his head’. He was cute.

‘Hi everyone,’ I stepped into the living room. Big, old, with lots of cushions and paintings. My parents liked fine art. Isaac looked up. And I died mentally. Again.

See, now though I was ready to be a princess, I was not ready to be a wife. Not to him. Not to someone with deep dimples and curly hair and blue eyes and a sexy voice and...he was too much for me. Just too much. I remembered what one of my tutors had told me; ‘Big smile, roll your shoulders back and walk tall. You may not feel confident but at least you can look it.’

Look confident, I told myself as I looked for an available seat. I felt like Rebecca Black ‘Which seat can I take?’ I snorted at my thoughts, earning me shocked looks from Isaac’s mother. Oops.

I sat down next to Isaac. Yes, it was the last seat. Yes, I was very happy about it. But yes, I was shit-scared too.

Rule 1-How To Do It Like A Princess-Try not to hyperventilate as you sit casually next to your beautiful prince.