The Prince's Daughter

Prologue

I raced down the steps of the castle, ignoring the prince's call from behind me.

Tears streamed down my ornately painted on face, streaking the make up my mother had so carefully placed.

"Cora! Please come back! Why are you running?"

Why am I running? WHY AM I RUNNING? For crying out loud I just made the biggest mistake of my life. I had sex with a prince. Without protection. That's why I'm running.

I look back and by now, Maxwell has stopped running and is staring at me from the marble steps I just fled.

I ran all the way home, which was at least seven miles. It was dusk by the time I reached my cottage, and I knew that my mother would be almost awake.

I tiptoed in the front door to find my mother sitting at the table, already awake, proving my predictions false. I internally groan.

"Cora! Was it grand? I've waited all night for you darling! I want to hear all about it. Every detail." She declares, running over to me and grasping my hands in hers.

Except the part where the prince took me into a random bedroom along one of the never ending corridors. I think.

I hurriedly make up an excuse, and promise I'll tell her later but that I am so tired I cannot even think straight, therefore I could get some of the details wrong. What a shame. I say it in a meaningful tone, but all the sarcasm in the world underlies it.

She settles for my story and goes to bed herself, having been awake.

I fling my tired and dusty legs onto the tiny bed and begin to silently sob. I think I will never go to sleep, but am once again proved wrong as the darkness overtakes me wishing seconds of hitting the pillow.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

My head pounds when I awake, and for a moment I can't remember why.

Then, all of a sudden, it all comes flooding back to me. the ball, the endless glasses of wine, and the sex. the thing that I know I can never forget.

I hear my mother rise from her chair to silence the whistling tea kettle, and I sprint to the door before the first wave of vomit can hit the floor.

"Well, I suppose that my good-girl daughter had her first drink last night, hm?" Mother says as she pulls my hair from my face.

"No, I just had too much wine. I drank nothing with an obscene amount of alcohol, just too much of something that had a little alcohol." I reply, wiping my face with my arm.

"I need a shower." I say and walk away before she can cause my head to pound any more than it already is, which is unfathomable.

Mother plaits my hair as I recall the events from the night before, leaving out my little part about the prince and I.