How To Train Your Princess

Preparation

I flutter my eyes open, still completely groggy, but Ruff's shaking me wont stop until I get up. "Alright. Alright, I'm up. I'm up," I say, shrugging her away.

"Good," she says, moving away, and I nestle back into my blankets, closing my eyes again. "Now get up," she adds, smacking me in the face with her pillow.

"Hey! Give me a minute. Will ya? It's earlier than normal."

"That's because the seamstresses are coming to work on us to day. Now get dressed. You can't get your third strike on the day of the ball," she says, pointing a thin finger at me.

The ball. Today. It finally sinks again, and all the nerves come rushing back. The butterflies in my stomach, devouring my insides, and I know I wont be able to eat much today. I decide I'll force myself to eat at least an apple and drink some milk, but that's probably pushing it. We've spent two months preparing to meet the next leader of our kingdom, so that he can line us up and judge us. That's not scary, or a jab to your pride if he doesn't like you.

I drag myself out of bed, placing my hurt foot down softly. It doesn't hurt near as much anymore, but I don't want to make it worse before the party tonight, which will probably last an extended amount of time. I'm excited to see Hiccup today as well, so I have to be able to have that dance with him, because it could very well be our last. I sigh, rubbing my face, and head over to my wardrobe. The doors creak open and I pull out a blue tunic. The grass stains in my normal clothes are still coming out. They should be completely gone after another hundred washings, give or take a few.

Once my clothes are on, I pull on my boots and braid my hair. With only five minutes to spare, we shuffle out the door and down the hall. Ingrid sees me as she's walking down the small steps into the dining room, waving at me to hurry. I pick up my pace into a hobbled jog. "Coming!" I call. She smiles, slowing down some. We take our seats at our table, the others right behind me.

"Aren't you excited?' she asks me, grabbing an apple and a roll from the baskets in the center of the table.

"I'm ready to stop wondering what he looks like," Ruff says, taking an apple.

"I'm not sure excited, is the right word. Maybe anxious is a little more appropriate," I say.

"Astrid is worried the prince will be hotter than Hiccup," Ruff snickers.

I punch her in the shoulder. "No I'm not."

"Isn't he gonna be at the ball too?" Cami asks, buttering her roll.

"Yeah. Him and the other two polo boys," I answer, spinning my apple on the table.

"So that means that Snotlout kid too?" Heather asks, worried.

"And Eret," Ruff adds, dreamily.

"Wait. Is this coming from the girl who acted like she had already won the prince over on the ride to the palace?" I tease Ruff, smirking at her goo-goo eyes, remembering how she kept defending her precious prince when I was asking if she thought he would be rude and snobbish. She gives a sheepish smile, shrugs and shoves her apple in her mouth.

"I can have more than one crush at once, can't I?" she asks, her mouth still full.

"Chew with your mouth closed," I order, rolling my eyes. This makes me think about my feeling for Hiccup and the budding ones far back in my mind for the prince. And becoming startled at the thought, I change the subject. "Who do you think he will pick?" I ask. We all turn around in our chairs, examining all the girls. "Jamie's pretty cute, but she's probably too young. Only sixteen," I say.

"Maybe Faylinn?" Heather offers.

"I think it's gonna be Ingrid," Cami says, a matter-of-fact.

"I doubt it. It'll be Astrid. Everybody loves her," Ingrid cuts in.