Royal Frills

Christmas in the Palace

It was time for my Christmas break when I would be allowed to go home. I have been looking towards this since I started at this school two months ago. I planned that I would show my parents that I would not get in any trouble or cause any scandals. I would wear my old boy clothes again. If things went according to plan, then my parents would say that I could start at my old school. You can guess that I was so excited about going home. There was a price to pay. I had to wear the school uniform on the way home. Luckily I would have that long coat on me, so people would only see I was wearing tights and shiny Mary Jane's shoes. Of course. They would also know that I was wearing a dress under the coat.

It was like a circus at the train station. The paparazzi was taking pictures and shouting at me trying to get some answers. They asked me if I was wearing a dress. What did it look like? Did I consider myself a girl now? Was I mad at my parents for sending me to the Victorian Virtue Institute? I did what a prince would do. I kept my head high and looked blankly ahead. I was happy that the police were there to protect me and put some space between me and everyone else.

I sat next to a woman and her daughter on the train. I always loved trains. This time though, I would have liked it if my parents picked me up at the school. The woman was silent for a bit and said that she felt sorry for me. She thought that no child should experience the treatment and harassment from the paparazzi and royal fanatics that I got. I smiled back and told her that I got used to it. My polite answer surprised me as a few months ago I would just have snapped back at the woman and told her something rude. Her little daughter was about Julia's age. She was more blunt in her comments.

"Mom says you are the prince. Are you a boy?" She asked
"Yes"
"I heard about you that you go to a school where boys are girls."
"I am still a boy"
"But I can see your tights and you have girl shoes on. Are you wearing a dress under that coat?"

Her mother told her daughter to stop asking questions. I did not answer them either. My face must have been so red because I was blushing. It was also warm on the train, but there was no way that I was going to take off my coat. I looked out the window and thought about what clothes I would wear when I was home. It would probably be strange to wear trousers again. I was now so used to dresses and skirts. Would I like it? This question made me blush again as I thought it ridiculous for a boy to ask himself if I would like to wear trousers.

I finally arrived at the palace. My parents, grandmother and Julia were waiting for me. I never got so many hugs as I did then. It was great to be home! When I took off my coat and showed my dress, they were all silent. My mother broke the silence by saying that I looked adorable. Julia made me laugh by saying she wanted the same dress. I did not feel bad or embarrassed that my family had seen me in a dress for some reason, Maybe they would now see how crazy the school was. I told them that I would change my clothes. Mom told me to wait as we needed to talk. I told her that I had no patience. I was looking forward to this for a long time. When I saw my bedroom, I understood why mom told me to wait. It was now a nursey like I had at school! My old clothes were gone and replaced with girl clothes.

I collapsed on the fluffy rug on the floor and started crying. My mother came in and sat next to me. She explained she got instructions from the school and what they should do. I wanted to scream and shout. I wanted to destroy everything in the room. The only thing I could do was cry. Why could I no longer lose my temper? My mother was trying to cheer me up by saying at least I still had my old clothes. She also said that it was important I continue with this petticoat treatment as the school said that it is helping me a lot. However, we could talk about that later. I did not respond. This was supposed to be a fun break from school. It was as if the school moved into the palace.

It did not help when I looked at the social media later. There was one picture or another one of me on my way home on the train. I read the comments....
"Prince Taylor is so adorable!"
"How can his parents do this. They should be showing the country an example. Now they have no problem their son in this embarrassing situation. The Royal family's message is that it is acceptable to treat a boy like a girl. This will scar Prince Taylor for life,"
"its a shame we cant see what he is wearing under the coat. It must be a pretty princess dress"
"This was the first time I did not see the young prince being an arrogant brat."
"Why do people think that dressing a boy is a punishment? Is being a girl a punishment? Maybe his parents know that he is transgender and is just helping him"
"I think I have to send my son to the Victorian Virtue Institute. I just heard that it costs so much!"
" I cried when I saw these pictures. Being a prince must be bad enough under normal circumstances. Prince Taylor was always being in the spotlight because he was unlucky enough to be born into the Royal family. The Royal Family is the oldest reality show we have. Now he is being paraded in public as a sissy boy. One could debate if this school is ethical in what it does to boys. One thing we must all agree on is that forcefully humiliating a boy is wrong and sad "