To Win the Prince's Hand

Chapter 5

5.

All the bustle of the servants and workers and they plucked and prodded me only reminded me how much I hated getting ready, particularly for important dinners. I hadn’t eaten in hours and I would be expected to hardly eat anything as plates filled to the brim with mouth watering foods were paraded around the room.

Abigail was the leader of the movement to make me presentable. She’d been calling out orders for hours now and as it approached late afternoon, she sent them all away and to do the finishing touches herself.

I had already adjusted to the corset I was in, stifling my every move. Years of wearing similar outfits had made the adjustment a lot easier. The material of the skirt swirled out around me from my seat on the short stool I was sitting on.

She was also dressed nicely, with her hair pulled back into a low bun. She was wearing a simple black dress that contrasted against her blonde hair. A small smile lit my face as she stared at me, assessing my appearance.

“Danielle, you look great,” she determined. It hardly even sounded like a compliment the way she said it, merely a statement of the truth.

“As do you,” I replied and she laughed.

“Yeah right,” she scoffed as she backed off. “There’s a mirror behind you,” she called as she walked back into my room. Standing up, I straightened my skirt to turn around to the mirror.

The dress with a deep blue that reminded me of Serena. I wondered where she was staying and where we could meet while I was here. I would have to visit her later to make sure she had arrived safe.

Looking up, I saw my hair had been pinned back as usual with a few loose curls framing my face. She had applied color to my cheeks and my eyes stuck out as the bluest I’d ever seen them.

Mother would be proud. She’d tell me how beautiful I looked and hug me and kiss me. “What’s wrong? Do you not like it?” Abigail worried as she ran in, wrapping me in her arms.

I looked up at the mirror once more to find tears in my eyes. I gently wiped them, trying not to ruin my image. “It’s beautiful,” I said quietly.

“Then what’s wrong?” she replied just as silently.

“I don’t want to go to dinner; I want to go home!” I yelled as I burst into tears. She looked shocked at my loud, childish outburst. “I don’t want to be pretty, I don’t want to be at the palace, and I don’t want to even meet the prince!” She stayed silent as I cried. “I just want to go home! I just want my mother!” I began to sob at this point, the tears pouring out of my eyes.

I had forgotten about my tight dress and I soon found the tight laces made it impossible for me to catch my breath. I couldn’t breath at all, and I felt strangled by the beautiful masterpiece I was wearing. This only made me cry harder. I hadn’t asked to die, simply go home!

Suddenly, I felt the pressure lift and I sucked air back into my lungs. I laid on the floor, sobbing harder than ever. Abigail just sat beside me as I broke down. She gently patted my back until my breathing steadied.

I stood up, steadying myself against the wall as she silently tied up my back. When she finished, not nearly as tight as before, I sat down on the stool and let her fix my face. She worked without looking me in the eyes.

When she finished, she walked me back to the mirror, and sat me down on a different stool as she stood beside me. You wouldn’t even know that I’d cried.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, not being able to look up at her. I’d messed up my chances to be friends with the one girl who liked me.

“I just… never realized,” she responded cryptically. I looked up in response to her as she continued on. “Yesterday, when you said you didn’t want to be here, I didn’t believe you. Or well, I did, but I didn’t understand how much. I guess I never put myself in your shoes and realized how much you would miss home.” Tears shone in her eyes as she wrapped her arms around me.