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EVIE HAD BROKEN her promise to Charlotte. She said she would make her dress for the cotillion, but she was too busy making Mal's dress— even though she could've easily canceled Chad's suit to do her dress.
Because she didn't want any drama, and she didn't trust anyone else to make her dress perfect, she made her own dress. It had taken her a whole month, but a few finishing touches and her grey dress would be finally complete.
However, she did not yet know if she would even be able to wear it. What if her parents refused to tell her the truth, and she had to leave— her search could take forever!
"Hey, Charlotte!" Called out Ben.
She hoped this would be the moment he wished her a happy birthday.
"Yes?" She answered, opening her bedroom door.
"Does this suit look good?" He asked.
"For what?" She questioned, brow raised. She hoped he would say for a surprise birthday dinner.
"The cottilion, of course." He said, as if she were stupid.
"Right, of course." She sighed unenthusiastucally. "It looks great."
She couldn't believe it— she was a princess for Cinderella's sake! Why would people forget the princess of Aurodon's birthday?
She then slammed the door in his face and flopped onto her bed, reading the note her parents left for her for the one hunderedth time.
Why wouldn't her parents just tell her who her biological family was? And why would they hide this letter from her?
Nothing was making sense anymore, and something sinister was going on.
All she had ever known was this life of privilege, where she still felt like an outsider for the entirety of it. She knew she was destined for greater things, and all she could do is wish that they would come true, and fast!
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TO SAY CHARLOTTE was mad was an understatement. Ben had gifted Mal a purple bike, but she till had received nothing.
Sure, it may seem superficial that she cared so deeply about birthdays. In her eyes though, it showed her who really cared about her. Who cared enough to wish her a happy birthday.
She glared enviously at the bike from her locker, when red suddenly started whirling from her fingertips.
She gasped, slamming her locker in surprise. Her best friend, Elsie DunBrock was stood behind it.
"What's got your panties in a twist?" She joked in her thick Scottish accent.
She had ginger, bouncy curls like her mother Merida, although they were more loose. And she certainly shared her mother's ambition.
"Nothing, just a little on edge." She lied.
She was terrified. This was not the first time little red particles had flown from her fingertips. This was one of the reasons she had to find her birth parents.
"Well happy seventeenth birthday, bitch." The ginger girl grinned, giving her best friend a tight hug.
"You remembered?" She said in surprise, tears brimming her eyes.
"Nobody else did?" She asked in disbelief. Charlotte shook her head in response.
"They don't deserve you." Said Elsie, kissing the top of her head. "Now, come on. Let's go get lunch..."
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