My Treasure (Norman Reedus Pirate)

One: Ceremony Planning

"Isabelle? Isabelle, are you awake yet, Dear?"

My eyes shot open at my mother's call. Sitting up from my comfortable, warm mattress, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

"Yes, Mum. I'm up." I stated, stifling a yawn. I glanced at my enormous window and saw the sun just peaking over the walls of the castle.

"Well hurry up and get dressed! Prince Charles IV is coming and he wants your hand in marriage!" My mother's English accent declared. Of course he'd want my hand. I was the one and only child of Lord Bennington, the richest and most powerful lord in the land of England. Prince Charles was just another suitor of mine. Son of Lord Charles of the Eastern borders, he needed to marry a princess in order to become a king. I was first choice.

Reluctantly, I got out of my bed, and threw off my floral printed sheets. Once my feet touched the cold marble flooring, I got shivers up my spine. My room had white marble floors that complimented the light grey stone of the walls. On the far side of my bed, was a vanity mirror. A massive mirror that showed every foot of my room. The desk was littered with papers, ink, and feathers. It was my duty as a princess to write letters thanking other lords for offerings. Although I resented the job, it had to be done. My enormous dresser was filled with tight fitting dresses that I'd need help getting into. Deciding to change out of my sleeping gown and getting into a nude underdress, I went over to my massive bedroom doors.

"Mum?" I called, my English accent echoing.

"I'm dearly sorry, Your Highness. But Queen Annabelle is currently busy with other preoccupations. May I assist you in any way?" One of the castle maids asked. I recognized the voice of Mary, my own personal maid.

"Could you please come in and help me with my dress?" I asked casually. This was normal. I couldn't dress myself fit to Victorian standards.

"Of course, My Lady. May I come in?"

How else would you help me? I though bitterly. "Yes you may. Just shut the door once you're in." I got that I was royalty, but asking if you were allowed into my room? Really? Especially after I just asked them to come in and help me with something.

Mary entered the room, and shut the door behind herself like I instructed her to do. She was dressed in a long black dress with a white apron, while a white bonnet covered her raven black hair. We went over towards my changing station that was by the vanity mirror. The changing station was just a couple fabric walls hiding a stool and full body mirror. Mary went first while I quickly grabbed a golden dress with a beautiful floral design on it. Then I followed Mary into the changing station. I hung the dress up on a coat rack and got onto the stool.

"What a lovely dress, madam. Quite stunning. It's sure to win over Prince Charles IV!" Mary exclaimed, helping tie the strings on my nude underdress. I rolled my eyes.

"Of course I'll win him over. He's here to win me over. Not like that's going to happen." I muttered the last part.

"Now, Princess Isabelle, you have to give him a change. After all, he's quite attractive." She giggled a little.

"How old is he, exactly?" I asked. The last thing I wanted was to be wedded to a man three times as old as I.

"I believe he's 41." She stated. My eyes widened in shock.

"That old? I'm only 19! I don't want to marry him! He's old enough to be my father!" I cried in outrage. This was by far the worst suitor I've received.

"My Lady, love has no age limits." Mary said dreamily.

"Love? Is this love? I barely know him! I'm not falling in love with him." I declared.

"Give it a chance. That's why we're having the ball tonight! So you two can get acquainted. You'll find love in the most unlikely of places." She said, sighing as though she were in a day dream. She finally got the last of the strings, and grabbed my golden dress. "Now, let's make you look so beautiful that it'll blow everyone away!"

€===||======> (I tried making a sword.)

After many hours of preparing my makeup and hair, Mary claimed that I was beautiful beyond compare. I glanced at myself in the mirror, and was frankly disappointed with my appearance. My naturally olive toned skin was whitened by pounds of powder. My eyebrows were completely masked by the powder as well. Bright red lipstick made my lips look larger and more plump than they really were. My dirty blonde hair was put into a tight bun, constricting my naturally wavy hair. My waist was tightened by my dress, making it small enough for anyone to wrap their hands around. In reality, it was a little wider. Not that I minded. I loved my body and the way I looked very well, and I hated covering it all up with makeup.

Mary was standing to the side, a look of pride on her face. "You are absolutely gorgeous, My Lady. Prince Charles will surely be swooped off his feet when he sees his new bride."

"You're saying that like it's already set in stone." I said. Although with our customs, it was.

"It is, Dear. Unless something were to happen between now and your wedding day, then you're going to get married to him. You lucky duck!" Mary exclaimed.

"Yes. I suppose I am." I mumbled, letting out a sigh.

Mary noticed my lack of enthusiasm. "My Lady, every woman in the kingdom wishes she were you."

"And I wish I were an ordinary woman." I retorted. "I hate living royally. It's a pain in the ass!"

"Madam! Don't swear! It's improper!"

I sighed again. "I'm sorry. I'm just stressed right now. That's all." I lied. I wasn't sorry I said that. It was very true. My life as a princess was dull. The same old thing every day; listening to elder men speak about foreign affairs and what not. I had to pretend that I cared about it too. My father insisted on having me with him whenever he attended one of them. On other days, my mother lectured me about being a lady and how to act like the queen I was to become. On the rare occasion that I had a peaceful day to myself, I'd spend it in the library reading about adventure or romance, imaging myself as the character falling in love. Or I'd spend it dancing in the ballroom. Either way, I would spend it to the fullest.

"Well then, come along. We must go to the ballroom to meet him!" Mary exclaimed, ushering me out of my little room, and on my way to meet my future husband. Just great. Could this day get any worse?