How To Train Your Princess

Water Fight

"Which spoon do you use to stir tea with?" Heather asks, sitting across the table from me. I stare down at the silverware in front of me.

"Ummmmmmm, this one?" I guess, picking one up.

"Wrong," Cami says, slapping my hand.

"Ow!" I yelp, even though I barely felt it through my wraps. I pick up the other spoon, it being my only other option.

"Good," Heather says.

I place it back in its' place. "I'm never gonna get this down," I grumble, resting my chin on the table, my hands on my head.

"We'll just keep practicing," Ruff encourages.

"We've been practicing. All through breakfast and right now during lunch," I say hopelessly. "By bedtime, I'll have exactly two weeks and three days until the ball. This is one of the most important things to get down, because I'll have to use it countless times in front of nobles, and I'm sorry if I'm a tad worried about making a fool of myself!" I exclaim, slamming my fist on the table, and causes the silverware to jump. Of course this catches several girls' attention, and they giggle to themselves about my scene. I sigh, placing my face in my hands. "I'm sorry. I'm just really stressed out."

"It's ok," Heather coos, touching my arm, Cami rubbing soothing circles on my back.

***

"Today, we will learn the art of conversation," Phlegma announces, her large chest puffed out.

"Since when is conversation an art? You just do it," I whisper to Ruff behind me. She snorts, giving me an approving grin.

"People are selfish," Phlegma continues. "There for, to keep a conversation alive, you must always steer it back to the one you are speaking to. There's nothing that people like more than talking about themselves. Asking them questions makes you seem interested and polite, not self absorbed. Do not speak about yourself unless asked. Do not talk about controversial issues. You must always agree. Do not become offensive. Do not yawn or make any other inappropriate noises. Always keep good posture and eye contact. Laugh quietly with hand over mouth, when appropriate. Always curtsey and nod when necessary. Address people accordingly: Mister, Miss, Lady, Your Highness, Your Majesty, My Queen, Master. Lets practice."

We slowly get to our feet, drawing out the process of partnering up and beginning the lesson. I flounce up to Ruff, curtseying the best I can. "Good afternoon isn't it Miss Ruffnut?" Only the noble girls are Lady, like Lady Heather or Lady Ingrid. I hate that. I can be as much of a lady as them, well maybe not, but, Miss sounds like an insult the way they say it; always in a snobbish way, drawing out the 's'. Misssss. It's like they think they need to draw out the word in order to drill it into my head that I'll never be a noble. I'm a poor commoner. Low man on the totem pole.

"Why yes, Miss Astrid," Ruff answers, curtseying in return.

"Did you get a goodnight's sleep Miss Ruffnut?"

"Why, yes I did, Miss Astrid."

"Very good. Did you enjoy breakfast and lunch, Miss Ruffnut?"

"Of course, Miss Astrid. Did you enjoy breakfast and lunch?"

"Yes, very much so, Miss Ruff."

Our conversation went on like this, asking each other simple minded questions. We probably asked a million questions, and we could have asked a million more and still wouldn't have known Ruff anymore than I did when we started. I don't understand the point of talking like this. You don't get to know the person, how they truly feel about things, their full reaction to something funny, their quirks. It's a way to keep everything boxed up, to appear perfect. People aren't perfect, so allow them to embrace it. You can't get to know anyone if they never show themselves. And then I realize Hiccup and the prince's way of talking; both of them always asking me questions, never openly giving me information about themselves. Though, the prince is a little more reluctant. I think talking about his problems helped him. He was able to lessen the hold by releasing a little of it out into the open. I find myself smiling at the thought. I actually have collected several pieces of the puzzle as to who the prince is.