Suddenly A Princess

Chapter eight

"I don't know, it's a bit tight," I winced as the thick layers of material dug into my flesh.

"Perfect. The tighter, the better," Antoinette, the dressmaker tried to justify the means. She ignored my cries and continued to pull on the strings of the corset wrapped around my torso.

"I feel like I'm about to explode." My eyes now, no doubt, were bulging out of my head, as she pulled aggressively on the strings, I could practically feel my insides tighten. They were prepared to splatter all over the floor and on this crazy woman.

"Well the dress is a size fit for a Princess, maybe you should, I don't know. Think about going on a diet?" Antoinette exclaimed with ease.

"E-excuse me?" I spun around to face her.

She shrugged her shoulders confidently. "Just a suggestion, this is rehearsal for the public eye, sweetie. There is much more criticism were that came from."

"I have never in my life been called fat, in fact I was told I was too skinny -"

Antoinette snorted. "They're all liars," she said. Okay, I am about a millisecond away from pummelling this little old woman to a pulp. The fact that for the past two hours she has forced dresses two sizes too small onto my now bruised and swollen body. She has clawed, pulled and tightened my curves to a point I've never been to, nor intended to be, yet she still has the audacity to call me fat? I'm already fed up with this. "I think we need something less tight and more inviting, maybe a ball gown?" she questioned herself. "Or a short cupcake? You know, to hide your stomach," she swivelled on her heel and began rummaging through the rack of countless dresses.

"Antoinette, you better keep one eye open when you're sleeping," I mumbled between gritted teeth.

"What was that?" she turned to face me.

"I said, how about jeans and a shirt?" I smiled widely. The little woman gasped and gave me an appalled look, before disappearing into the backroom. It's not my fault I was born with the best kind of style.

After what seemed a lifetime, Antoinette had finally selected a dress, of course her pick - mine wasn't considered at all - who after all would listen to an eighteen-year-old girl selling her life away to the devil of all devils? Exactly.

I was quickly beckoned out the door and down the hall only in my undergarment, before I could reach to hide what little assets I had, one of the many women shoving me swiftly placed a silk robe over the top of my skin, I slid my arms in the sleeves and wrapped it around my body. The touch of it was heavenly and the smell was just as pleasant. When we reached our final destination, I was greeted with a commodious room that was completely surrounded by shimmering mirrors and glistening lights. It made the room unexpectedly endearing and inviting, I stumbled in after the women and came face to face with a young man no older than twenty. He wore a turquoise suit, which was ironed and adjusted to complete perfection, a long dark silked scarf snaked around his neck, complementing his viper black specs. His head was shaved, his eyes piercing blue, he had high cheekbones, a cut jawline and immaculate skin. He was definitely a pretty boy.

"So, I heard you're our Princess?" He asked in a cheery tone, I had to force myself to look away from his flawless image.

"Apparently so," I forced a fake laugh, too fake might I add. I had just noticed the women had all left and we were left alone, I gulped hard and prayed I didn't make a fool of myself as I fidgeted with the string attached to my robe.

"Princess, sminshess, right? No big deal. The big deal though is what the title Princess gives you," He presented me a playful glare.

"What?" I furrowed my eyebrows, fascinated at where he was going with this. I mean I'd never actually thought about what the title princess did in fact give me.