The Time in Summervale

Chapter 1

"Maybe this piece goes here," you mumbled to yourself. An action you always did but it was something your mother hated. Sitting atop your bed you concentrated your efforts in inventing a mixer that did its job on its own. Call it a hobby or a dream but inventing was your world. You loved the satisfaction of creating something with your own two hands especially if it helped people. Unfortunately, your parents the Prince and Princess of Summervale did not approve. They called it very unladylike. Your mother, Athela, would scold you about getting messy and dirty and then throw you in the tub like a little child. Your father, Edward, was always forcing you to learn how to seam. His mother used to do it and he wanted to pass it down to you. Those things didn't excite you, didn't make you complete. Inventing was something you loved and was always thinking about. As you would look at an apple tree during your morning stroll you would wonder about what inventions would be good for peeling apples whilst your parents bored you with duties as a Duchess.

"Almost done," you screwed on the last screw to your creation. You had dirt under your nails and they were short and barely ever polished, only for special occasions. Your hair was almost every time how it was meant to be. None of those gels, ties, bows, again only for special occasions. Your mother, Athela, would buy you all these face creams, soaps, masks, but you were content with your scars and bumps, naming them every so often after royals, saying your "face was a castle and there should definitely be Queens and Kings roaming on it." You were odd and different to others but to yourself you were this boring, normal, royal girl that everyone hated because you were granted everything you could ever want. Life was not that simple though. Sometimes when you have everything handed to you - all the money in the world - it still doesn't fill up that hollow feeling inside or take away the sadness. It was something to help people cope but it was never the antidote.

"Alright...finished. What do you think Karim ?" You hastily got out of bed and sat on the floor presenting your mixer to your pug. One very lovely vacation you took with your family you had learn a bit of Arabic. It was a beautiful language and you had made many friends there. You named your dog Karim meaning generous. Karim was generous, he was the only one who would look at your inventions. "Do you think it will work?" You gave a toothy grin, excited.

Karim grunted as he licked his nose, panting.

"I knew you would like it," patting his head you jump up ready to show not just your parents but also the cooks. You had a very good feeling about this one. Every time you made an invention you had hope that maybe your parents would change their minds about your future but every occurrence was the same.

"Mother, father! Come look!" You yelled as you sprinted down the stairs not caring if your nightgown would get dirty sweeping across the floors of the castle. "Come quick!"