I stumble backwards a step, catching myself before I fall, in my tall black heels as my ladies in waiting pull at the many strings of my corset tighter and tighter. I gasp for breath as my waist shrinks under the pressure, the horrible thing crushing my ribs. No matter how many times I wear these infernal things I will never get used to them nor like them. At last the pulling stops and I glimpse myself in the mirror. The floor length dress presses up against my body clearly outlining every curve that there is to show, making my hour-glass shaped body even more so. The V-neck of the dress shows off my breasts and a line runs down from my left thigh causing my leg to be on display. I hate it. the thought of why I am dressed up this way makes me want to throw up. The dress makes me feel like a thing to be put on display for all to see, for him to see. With a scowl fixed onto my face I elegantly move towards my bed, years of princess training shows as I carefully lower myself onto its silky sheets. My black dress can easily be viewed on the snowy bedsheets.
“You must continue getting ready for tonight.” Cassandra mentions in a monotone voice.
“You have to be stunning for your dance with Winston.” Anastasia adds in a tedious voice.
I wrinkle my nose in disgust at the thought of seeing him again. Send a vulgar gesture their way, I continue to lay on my bed. Ignoring them further I pick up a book lying on my bedside table and after looking at the title, begin to read it. Books provide the only escape from this hell hole my father calls a palace. They are the only way I can escape everything I hate in the world. I hate the ladies in waiting that my father assigned me, I hate this place where I rest my head a night, I hate who my father wants me to marry and most of all I hate my father. It is my father's fault I no longer have a mother and it is his fault I plot his death every night before going to sleep. Every night I think of the best ways to plunge a dagger into his heart, the best ways to twist it so that it inflicts the most pain.
“Your father will be notified if you don’t cooperate.” My other lady in waiting, Cordelia, states in an equally boring voice as her sisters.
"Whatever, you’re going to tell him anyway." I shoot back.
When I do not move from my bed, the head lady in waiting, Cassandra makes her way over. Snatching the book from my grasp she throws it across the room. I watch as the book lands in an awkward position near my walk in closet. With the book now out of my hand Cassandra turns on me, a scowl lighting up her face.
“You have no time to be reading such rubbish.”
“That book happens to be very interesting, you bitch.” I glare at her.
In one fast movement her hand comes in contact with my face with a loud slap. I don’t flinch even though it hurts, I will not give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain. She looks at me with a smug grin showing on her face. It takes all of my will power not to return the favour.
“Just remember I can hurt you how ever I want to as long as it can be covered up.” I look over to Anastacia and Cordelia who have watched these events unfold. The pair only serve as Cassandra’s minions and let her, as she calls it, ‘discipline me’. The sound of Cassandra’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts.
“What are you waiting for.” She beckons for me to sit in the chair at my dressing table.
Not wanting this to take more time than it has to, I get up from my bed and make my way over glaring at them as I do so. As soon as I sit down the three women get to work brushing curling and styling my hair. I wince as they forcefully pull my hair, not trying at all to be gentle. They then get started on curling my luscious locks. I wrinkle my nose in disgust, I have always preferred my hair to be straight or maybe a little wavy.
Once they have finished I stand up and study myself in the mirror. The finished product looks as wonderful as it is supposed to be. Elegant curls sit neatly on my head and pour down my back exposing the jewellery on my neck and ears. Before I can move away I am forced down yet again. I let a groan escape my lips, I yearn for a book to engross myself in. A book that will let me escape into another world entirely.
My ladies in waiting take out a makeup bag from who knows where and start applying the stuff to my face. I sit there and let my mind wander while they get busy. I like looking pretty but not here, not when that beauty can get me somewhere I don't want to be. In no time at all the three women are done. I am grateful once they stop.
Not bothering to look in the mirror this time I stand up and turn to face them.
“If you are done I would like to continue reading my book before I am forced to attend the ball.”
Cassandra is about to reply when behind me the door to my room flings open. My ladies in waiting stand up straighter as if facing an authoritative figure.
I slowly turn around to face the door, afraid of who I might see. Fuck, please don't be him. My stomach forms a knot when I spy who is standing in the middle of the door way. The scars on my back make themselves known as the man who put them there steps out from the shadows.208Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZepAlJT5W1
