In French

Chapter One

ATTENTION PLES:

4/1/2017:

I am heavily editing this story at the moment, by that I mean I am literally rewriting the entire thing. I thought of and wrote this story when I was about fourteen and (hopefully) my writing has come a fair way since then. In fact, I find this story in its current uploaded state quite embarrassing. 

Therefore, when I have finished rewriting and (ugh) editing my newer version I will upload the piece in one go.  After that, as pleased as I am to be able to boast of 24k reads on this version of the story, I will be deleting it. If you're new and were going to read this, I'll be honest and just tell you I personally don't think it's worth it.

Thankssssss

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    I glided through the house feeling like a swallow, a flighty bird just swishing about in my new lace gown. My mother called in Catalonian, "Rosanna, Rosanna, come and try these new shoes on," I stopped flitting about and headed over to the drawing room. The sun shone through large bay windows, lighting it up; sending kisses out to the patterned wallpaper and polished wooden floor. She smiled, the dressmaker was here.

    "Beautiful," she cooed.

    Madre had a pair of soft pink satin pumps that looked soft and comfortable. "Are these for me?" I questioned not daring it.

    She nodded fanatically making her dangling earrings flutter against her neck, "Yes, yes my darling! Come, try them on." I unlaced my leather ankle boots and wedged my feet into the pumps. They felt so good and looked absolutely divine. "How are they?"

    "Wonderful!"

    "Good, pass them here and you can wear them to the ball tonight," I grudgingly took them off and handed them back to her. I was full of energy today. It must have been that homemade orange juice that Eloisa made earlier. She was my lady's maid and we were best friends. The woman practically raised me, well, she did raise me.

    Skipping outside into the fresh swirling air and the undeniable heat of the pleasant summer's day I hurried to the tree that I first climbed when I was six years old. I ran, I think in a tantrum and Eloisa was sprinting after me, red faced with her huge breasts bouncing as she hollered. I knew she would smack me when inevitably she caught up. As soon as the tree had registered in my little mind it just made sense, I climbed it staying there with Eloisa screaming at me for the whole morning until we both ran out of fight and I came back down where we hugged. Needless to say my mother never knew about my boisterous days.

    I was ecstatic about tonight as I would be attending my first of many balls. It was a masked one, rumour had it that the Dauphin of France would be there as he and the Royal Court of France had descended upon my homeland Andorra. Apparently my father –King of Andorra- and the King of France were discussing the Spanish. My Padre had ordered our family to one of our retreat houses while the French King and my father discussed business.