Madam Gizelle and the Owl Prince

Prologue

" Dear goodness! what a beautiful dress!" A women in a long dress with a fix fur gown noted. Her dress was quite shiny as the champagne gold drills moved along the floor each time she took a step. The tightness of the corset by her gips made the skirts of the dress puffier and more noticeable as her body was in perfect shape. The rich and wealth appealing from her were magnificent yet the castle seemed quite dull to be for the dress she wore.

"Mother, this thing is right! I cannot breathe" the young girl claimed as her servants pulled her corset in. Similar dress as her mother's, yet the red velvet appealed to her rosy lips and eyes to standort even more. More fresher than the tricks of blood, silkier than the red carpet. Her feet were nowhere to be seen inside her skirts line where all her frills were hidden. The corset made her body shape something she wasn't, quite painful. Yet the lady to become, she knew her mother will do anything for her as it's her first night of the ball.

"oh honey, You'll get used to it soon. After all, this is your first time!" mother exclaimed as she whipped out her fan made out of peacock feathers. Symbol of wealth and luck.

"But the Owl had whispered last night. The corset does not match me." the young girl said. Out of nowhere, how strange van a girl be when she's born in a noble family?

"What are you talking about?"
"The Owl"
"Which Owl?"
"Öl the Meleius"

"stop making nonsense and get ready for tonight, honey. Ladies! Get her dressed up and ready to go in the next hour!"

"yes madam" the servants bowed as the young girl's mother worked out, sighing in disbelief as her child was living too much in a fantasy, a folktale of owl city, making nonsense. Owls? Has she ever seen one? A young girl who was 7 was her to still learn the world and reality she lived in.

Folk Tale of Owls went like this;

Once upon a time there stood a village of owls where people were able to fly and transform.
The King of owl had one son named Maleius, who tragically grew up alone as her father and mother died in a curse of witches.

Prince Maleius had great wings, bigger than eagle, sharper than hawk. And nonetheless, a great golden eyes which had been dull for seeing everything.

Prince Maleius was given everything. The noble status, the wealth, and the looks. Yet he lacked something which was family.

Growing up alone in a lonely castle, Maleius had nothing but sorrow, ending the rose threads to tangle him and keep him into eternal sleep until someone comes for him.

And his life still under the curse of roses, his spirit will whisper to chosen daughter. In a word nobody else will understand.