Forever Yours

Chapter 5

LYDIA POV:

Lydia had fought her prep team when they had tried to put three tons of makeup on her face. She felt as if the makeup made her look like a doll, like a person that only cared about their appearance.  

While she sat in her chair, patiently waiting for her team to finish working on her hair, she saw that the girl next to her was getting her hair dyed dirty blonde.

"They said I look better this way," She told Lydia when she caught her staring. "I'm not so sure. I liked it the way it was before." She continued and sighed.

"Why didn't you tell them to leave your hair alone?" Lydia asked, a hint of frustration in her voice.

"Well, I'm in the selection aren't I? And I  have to look my best for Prince Alec!"

Lydia rolled her eyes. She thought that Alec was cute, yes, but she would never change her hair just for him to look at her. 

If she was the one meant  to win the prince's heart, she was going to do it looking like the person that she was. Not some plastic version of her that had perfect skin and beautiful hair that never seemed to be out of place. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------

She was walking down the hall with a dress that was supposedly her size but was too snug on her waist and too loose on her chest. 

All 24 girls were walking towards the rooms where they were all supposed to stay for the duration of their time in the selection. 

In the corner of her eye she saw a beautiful girl with raven black hair and eyes almost as dark as her hair. She was leaning on the doorframe looking at a girl that was a couple people in front of Lydia with disgust. Beside her was a palace guard who appeared to have a trace of glitter on his cheek. The girl and the guard glanced at each other and smirked. 

They must be good friends. Lydia thought. 

Just then, it dawned on her. The girl was Princess Isabelle Lightwood! No one spoke of her nearly as much as her two older brothers. Possibly because her mother thought that she was an embarrassment to the family name. 

Just then a horribly loud alarm went off and the guards quickly abandoned their posts beside the doors and started running and grabbing the girls by the arm, tugging them to safety. 

Lydia was frozen in her tracks.  

"The rebels are here!!" She heard someone yell form across the hall. 

She felt someone grab her arm and drag her towards a wall. Just as she was about to hit the wall the person next to her stomped on the tile of marble that was right beside the edge of the wall. The wall immediately slid to the right like an elevator door and revealed a dark room that had a couple cans of peaches in a corner stacked on top of a pile of blankets and a small light bulb hanging form the ceiling emitting a dim glow throughout the room. 

Lydia finally went out of shock and looked at the person who had pulled her into this mystery room.

"Your highness!" She exclaimed and quickly sunk into a deep curtsy. 

"Please. It's Izzy." She told her with a small smile. 

Beside her was the guard that Lydia had seen earlier standing beside 'Izzy'.

"This is Magnus." She told Lydia. "My personal guard and best friend. Well, besides Alec. But he can be real pain sometimes."

Lydia gaped at her. 

"And he has horrible fashion sense," Isabelle continued. "How is he supposed to run a country when he looks like he got dressed in he dark, half asleep and drunk? Honest mystery."

Magnus snorted at this last comment while Lydia was simply dumbfounded. 

They stayed in that room for hours talking about everything from Alec, to Lydia's life at home before the selection. 

Lydia noticed that Izzy seemed to really enjoy hearing about the little things that Lydia and Clary had done as little girls with no reason other than to have fun. 

Later, when Lydia was in her room and everything had settled down, she thought that maybe Izzy was interested in those stories because she never got the chance to do those kinds of things when she was young. Having to spend all of her time being what her parents desired, left no time for Izzy to really be herself. Or even, to have fun.