I woke up this morning with the warm sunlight shining onto my jade green hair. I stepped out of bed and stretched myself well. It is going to be a very special today as today is my father’s birthday. Well, my birthday is much more special to me of course but the thing that makes it more special to me is that today, I’m going to meet my prince.
Well, that is what my parents told me. To them, it might be the happiest time of my life. But to me, it is NOT!
You see, I am thirteen years old. THIRTEEN! I am just a young tot who still hasn’t learnt much throughout my life and right now it is about to be ended by a guy whom who the hells know. I don’t even know how old he is. Well, I am getting the imagination that he might be a desperate 30-year-old who still haven’t got a decent wife for himself but, you know, we can’t judge people like that. That is just way too cruel. I’m not saying that I am good person but... blah! Who cares?
After bathing (which is of course, assisted by my many housemaids), I put on my second finest dress (the finest dress is to be worn tonight, during the ball), an azure dress with fake roses beautifully sewn onto it. I walked with full grace and courtesy, a must in the family and a way of walking from which I was taught to since I was an infant, towards my parents’ bedroom. I gave a soft knock onto the door and a moment later, both my parents stepped out of the room with full grace. (Yes, even the man in the family need to walk in grace.) They both look outstanding with their suit and dress. I am just very proud to be their daughter.
“So, Miku-chan (a nick-name given to me by my mother),” my mother voiced. “Would you be able to be patient into see your future husband to be this evening?”
“Of course, Mother,” I answered her in my most melodious voice tone. “What’s the use of being a lady if I cannot be patient?”
“Oh, my dear Miku-chan~!” my mother exclaimed. “Kaito-kun will be very lucky to have you as a wife! You are graceful, beautiful, courteous and even talented! Your singing voice is the best ever heard throughout the country!”
So, is that his name...? Kaito.... I wonder what he will look like....
Time passes swiftly by and the party had begun. (Of course, the party isn’t like anything people these days do). It started with a boring speech from my father, and then is followed by the banquet. Lastly, it was the time to cut the cake and the beginning of the oh-so-boring ball. Throughout this evening, almost all the young men I met try to woo me. Is this emerald dress I’m wearing too dazzling which caused me to receive all these unwanted attention? Sigh.... if this continues, then the only thing I want is for the party to end as soon as possible.
Having enough wooing from these repellent men, I pushed my way through them and towards my father, who is standing a few feet away from me. What I first saw after letting myself go from that crowd of men surprised me quite a lot as a saw a figure that I haven’t seen in ages. He is my father’s best friend.... and mines too! It was dear old Hajime-san, whom I haven’t met since the last five years! Looks like he has now return after his long voyage to the East.
The first thing I did when I approached him is giving him a big bear hug.
“Oh! Miku-chan! Dear, dear, Miku-chan!” he exclaimed, happily surprised with my action.
“Hajime-san!” I called him, adoringly as I did five years ago. “I really missed you! How are you??? How was the voyage??? Is Mirai-san here???”
Mirai-san is Hajime-san’s wife. She is a good friend of my mother...and my good friend too! I have very good relationships with grown-ups.
“I’m here!” she answered in her very melodious voice. She has a very beautiful voice and is the most renowned diva in her time. I am the diva replacing her right now but that is only because she is my personal teacher. I couldn’t have achieved anything without her. I usually meet her every week on Wednesdays and Fridays but since Hajime-san returned a month ago (information I just received based on our present conversation), she never did came. So, I kind of missed her.
