The Princess Who Ran

Chapter 2

I have made my way back to my bedroom and still, the anger and upset has not vanished. You can only escape marriage so many times.

I sit back down on my bed which has been made since I was last here and ponder my options, there are not many.

I decide on what seems like the best one. If I act fierce, stubborn and unwilling to marry, no man will want to marry me. Well, let's just say I won't really need to ask.

When the clock on the wall shows that it is eight, I decide I should probably get ready. I don't want to arrive late and make a great entrance, it will only attract the Prince's attention.

I pull the bell calling for a servant to come help me get ready.

When a small knock sounds at the door I answer and a small, red haired girl appears at the door, a basket of bath products under her arm.

'I can bathe myself thank you.' I tell the girl, a little bit more snappy than I mean to.

She nods and set the basket down before helping me get into my balk gown. She pulls the strings of the corset, pushing my organs together uncomfortable. I hate corsets.

When she is done, I observe myself in the mirror. I Georgia's red gown with lace all around the bodice beautifully highlights my natural curves. The slit in the skirt just shows my leg and overall, it's just revealing enough, but not too much.

The girl then proceeds to do my hair and makeup. She twists and plants my hair, pinning it around my head in different way. Each pin being placed precisely on my head. She applies the tint to my lips, eyes and cheeks and when I look in the mirror I feel fake. Pretty, but fake.

I motion for the girl to leave and watch myself a little longer in the mirror before standing up from the stool at my vanity and walking towards the little table next to my bed. I take off the necklace from my neck on which hangs a beautifully crafted key. I place the key in the keyhole of the tables drawer and turn it to hear a sold click as it unlocks. When I slide the drawer open I reach my hand in taking in it the beautifully sculptures ruby and gold dagger. I watch it, admiring the shining crystals.

I attach the dagger to my thigh, right above the where the slit ends to ensure it cannot be seen. When it is secure, I slip my feel into the red heels near my door and walk out my bedroom door.

I step down the stone steps, the sounds from my shoes resonating through the large hall. When I reach the bottom, I take a deep breath in before walking in to the ball room. Head turn, people watch as I glide towards the far corner of the room, trying to get as far away from learning eyes.