The Last Princess

Chapter 1

Check out the edited version on my profile, it's much better! :)

Hair red as fire. Eyes green as leaf. Skin pale as snow. Lips red as blood. Lashes black as crows. Beauty.

I know everything the people call me. But I also know about words hardly anyone dares use in front of me.

A sudden migraine spiralled through my head. Not so strong. But still, it made me grimace and collapse into my nearby plush green armchair. All for show. My real room is somewhere else.

Just as I controlled the migraine, she bustled in. Hair long, till her waist, and dark as night. Her eyes, as green as mine (which I hate to think I've inherited from her) widened in false concern.  She was wearing a long, elegant red gown, dark as blood. How fitting, with the blood of seven- almost eight- girls on her hands. On her forehead sat the silver circlet, identifying her as the Queen that she was.

"Elvina. How is my weak daughter?" Weak. Useless. Powerless. Talentless. Words that hardly anyone dared use in front of me. But three people could.

 I wished name-calling was the only thing they could do to me.

"I'm fine, Queen Ivy. Any reason why you came?"I stood up, hiding my grimace. Of course, it didn't fool her. But no matter.

"Your attendants have come, for the ceremony." she said coldly. I managed to nod. She swept out of the room, as ten women came in.

"Come, Princess." The leader, Hazel, said. They were obviously on my mother's side. She would allow me no allies here. The last two years of my life had been so lonely. Ever since Juniper died. No. Ever since she was murdered.

Silently, the women forced me down on a chair and proceeded to do my hair, dress me in a velvet green gown, put pink pollen on my cheeks, apply strawberry juice on my lips, and outline my large eyes with black dye.

"You're ready, Princess." Hazel said, as the attendants bowed out. I sighed, both glad and unhappy to be left alone. I looked at myself in the large, ornate mirror that hung nearby. I didn't understand why elves called me such an uncommon beauty. Perhaps I was pretty, but not so very much. I touched a hand to the mirror and felt its smooth, cold glass. The girl in the mirror was real- and yet only a reflection. I wished I could enjoy this life.  

There were perks to being royal. If only one could enjoy them without the threat of one's imminent demise hovering over one's head.

Not the rebels. I was talking of my mother.

(Author's Note: Re-readers, check the author's note at the end to find out why I re-published this story)