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𝓝𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮
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I don't like makeup.
The purpose and reasoning behind allowing my servant to beat my face in light shadowy colors, I'm fine with the idea. But it certainly doesn't feel good arrayed on my pale cheeks and covering over my once pink lips and eyelids.
Restraining is what it feels like. I know I'm a person who uses my facial expressions to show how I feel the majority of the time. I'm hardly allowed to speak my opinion around my parents. But now that there are heavy layers of makeup dressing my features, I don't know what I have left.
I stare myself down in the vanity mirror at my own deepening blue eyes as John covers my cheeks in pink blush with the softest brush I have ever felt.
I used to make myself uncomfortable by analyzing my own facial features so closely, disturbed by just the thought alone that people are actually intimidated by me.
Let me discreetly repeat that... People are actually intimidated by me.
A petite, loud, blond outcast not following any procedure my own king and queen parents give me with the responsibility of being a well-known prince throughout kingdoms but just for one. Watching people drop to their knees and plead for the mercy of their heads is something that I'm used to witnessing.
But If I was given my own power, I would probably save each and every one of the men that I was forced to indirectly kill.
John flicks the end of now his eyeliner pen with his fingers before moving strands of his long brunette hair out of his face. "Head up," he orders flatly.
I do so, not missing a beat. I blink a bit as the ink of the pen sinks into my skin creating a rough texture for the full effect of the look we're going for, then slides it over the underside of my lid. I keep my eyes screwed shut in fear John would poke my eye, even despite how precise John is with everything.
It's his job, after all. Not makeup specifically, but being absolutely perfect with every one of his actions is what he was hired for. I honestly don't know what I'd do without him. I probably wouldn't be able to pull off what I'm trying to now.
John reaches over to the other eye and a long sigh escapes from my lips in an annoyed tone, "Are you almost finished? It feels as if I have been sitting here for hours."
"You have the same amount of patience as your parents." He complains, "And if you aren't disguised well enough, the village will notice, and once the word gets around you know what your parents would do."
Even knowing very well what my parents would do-- try to lock me up as punishment for even longer than the normal occasion... but then again, a real punishment hadn't happened yet so I don't know if they would actually go through with their threats.
It feels as if they're already punishing me. Just last night they were telling me about my duties as prince os to marry a girl my age. Most of their words flew over my head, but I do know they are bringing another woman here for dinner soon. Every woman brought, I don't really get a choice on who I can marry. It's what my parents think, and what her parents think only. I think my lack of table manners chased them off.
Before now, I have been good covering my tracks, sneaking out to the friendly village just below the base of the castle. The one that I like most, but the harder it is to hide when I am so close to the castle. Those Village people know my face the best.
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Nevermore ♚𝙈𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙤𝙧♚
Fanfiction°•°•°•°•°•°•°• ☆ •°•°•°•°•°•°•° Assigned a huge responsibility as prince of the kingdom, Roger was found to have an outcast behavior unlike most everyone in his royal standing. Though taught royalty at a young age by his parents, the only way for...