The Princess Promise

The Crowning Ceremony

If I held on any tighter, I could've cut off Ivy's blood circulation.

"Seriously Nikki," Ivy pried my fingernails out of her skin. "Chill out. You'll be fine." I flopped down on Ivory's bed, burying my face into a throw pillow.

"And what if I won't?" I investigated, my words muffled by the material of the pillow. I felt the bed sink with Ivory's weight being added to my own and Ivy rubbed soothing circles on my back.

"Then I'll give up my position as a Princess," I grunted, hearing the seriousness in her voice. Rolling on my back, I hugged the pillow staring up at the blonde bombshell.

"I can't let you do that," I informed her, punching her gently in the arm.

She smiled at my response, ruffling my new hair. "Then don't lose your cookies when Xavier puts the necklace on you today during lunch," she answered chipperly, standing again.

"How do you know that?" I asked, sniffing a pair of Juicy sweatpants and deeming them appropriate to wear.

Ivy shot me a disgusted expression before answering, "It's what the did for me and all the others. There is no way in hell you're wearing those pants."

I rolled my eyes at the repeated words."Why the hell not?" I asked exasperatedly tossing the pants to the floor. Ivy uncapped a tube of glitter pink lip gloss, expertly squeezing the perfect amount onto her lip.

"Because you're a Princess now and Princesses don't wear Juicy sweatpants."

I held a finger up to correct her. "Technically, I'm not a Princess until lunch. Before then, I'm still Nikola."

Ivy shook her head like she was trying to explain astrophysics to a kindergartener. "So much to learn," she chastised, striding over to her walk-in closet. "Good thing I prepared for this." Pushing open the door, an elegant but tomboyish outfit presented itself; a slouchy black beret, a knitted, long sleeve, red, crop sweater, paired with black skinny jeans, and red sneaker wedges. It was something simple enough the I could wear it without feeling exposed but it wasn't something I would normally wear.

"It's really pretty," I offered, feeling the soft cashmere material of the sweater.

Ivy frowned at the reluctance in my tone. "But...?"

I gnawed on my lip, fingering a sleeve. Sighing in defeat, I held the sweater up to my chest and tried to smile down at it. "I'll try it." Ivy shook her head and I assumed that my smile wasn't convincing enough. Turning her back to me, I quickly changed out of my dad's extra large minion shirt and into the outfit Ivy had chosen. "Done," I announced, waiting for her assessment.

She rubbed her chin, tilting her head to the side before her nostrils flared in distaste. "I see what you mean," she nodded, diving back into her walk in closet.

As I waited for her to venture back, I nervously paced around the room, thoughts of failing in my head.

What if something went wrong?

What if someone opposed to my "crowning?"

What if this was all just a joke?

"Here!" Ivy tossed a piece of fabric at me and I caught it, pleased to see the maroon halter top I got her last Christmas. "And the finishing touch..." Ivy trailed off, making me wait for her big reveal. My lips tilted upwards; I had the sneaking suspicion I knew what she was talking about.

"Mr. Flanny!" We yelled in unison childishly, laughing as Ivy pulled out the familiar red checkered flannel from behind her back.

Neither of us remembered who exactly was the owner of the shirt and we never bothered to figure it out. It was the only shirt the both of us agreed on; Ivy because it went well with ripped jeans and me because it reminded me of something she would wear.

"That looks so much better," Ivy beamed after I had changed again. After tying Mr. Flanny around my waist, I settled the beret over my new curls, leaving the two toned curl out. "Now you look classy," she dramatically flipped on the sleeves around my waist, "and sassy!"

I rolled my eyes at her words, fighting back the laughter bubbling up from my throat. "You are such a dork," I uttered affectionately, tossing an arm around her shoulders. She grinned back at me, her arm curling around my waist.

"You ready for this?" She asked, seeming tense about something.

"Bring it on."

***

"I want to go home."

In the span of three hours, I had gotten enough stares, whispers, flirts and questions to make me crave an open window I could jump out of. 

One Knight even asked me if I was new.

The hour I dreaded was finally here and I just realized what I was doing.

There was no turning back from this, I realized, wiping my sweaty palms off on my jeans.

"There is no turning back from this point," Ivy spoke my thoughts. A beautiful African-American girl from her Biology class, who had introduced herself as Kali, raised a brow at my nervousness but nodded. Her Princess necklace was highlighted because of the contrast to her dark skin. It also could've been my hyper-awareness to anything related to the hierarchy.

Ivy nudged my shoulder with her own, pushing me forcibly out of my thoughts.

"Please don't make me do this!" I blurted out, spinning around before she could answer. However, I didn't make it very far as a muscled arm wrapped around my midsection and I was tossed uncomfortably over a shoulder. The person adjusted me so that instead of their shoulder painfully digging into my stomach, I was sitting on their hip like an infant.

Ethan devilishly smirked up at me,  watching my jaw drop. Struggling to find a response, I pitifully resigned in my efforts, instead wrapping my legs around his waist.

We've gotta stop with the intimate positions.

"You've got nothing to be worried about Princess." I snorted at the unoriginal nickname, duly noticing that Kali was staring at us with interest while Ivy scowled at the wall.

I squirmed in his grasp and he placed me down to stand unsteadily on my feet. "I preferred Ms. Ginger," I told him honestly, bouncing on my toes.

"Well, you can't be called little Ms. Ginger now," Ethan tutted, twirling my pink/purple curl around the tip of his finger. His words aroused an odd sense of pride in my stomach. 

'He noticed! ' Some girly part of me declared gleefully.  I slinked away from him, my curl sliding off his finger. I will not fall for a player, nonetheless a King.

"The majority of my hair is still red," I stated defensively.

Ethan smiled at my argument, crossing his arms over his chest. "If you want me to so badly, I'll stick to calling you, Ms. Ginger."

Ivy, finally set into motion, wrapped a hand around my wrist and pulled me away from His Highness. "How about you just don't call her?" She whispered, eyeing him annoyedly. If he heard her, he made no move to acknowledge her, staring dazedly at my curl. 

Kali covered her laugh with an awkward cough, her doe brown eyes gleaming with amusement. "If you excuse us, King," she spoke up, making a move to open the door. Ethan snapped out of his trance, quickly but painlessly, yanking me away from Ivy. My back hit his front and he released my wrist.

"I almost forgot," he chuckled, sending vibrations down my spine. He rustled around in the pocket of his jacket while Kali and Ivy shoved open both doors. Pulling something warm around my neck, I barely registered the clink of beads as the entire cafeteria turned to stare. 

The three strand pearl necklace rested over my top and the diamonds on the blue bow, caught the light, shining like a gem. 

"I, King Ethan Richards, welcome a brand new member of the Princess community. Princess Nikola Freehand."

And as some people started to clap, while others glared and much more, too speechless to anything, I stood there shocked and confused.

But still, my first question may not have been the most important.

What now?