The Princess Switch

Life at the Castle

chapter 2    

 Twelve years later, there was a celebration banquet in honor of my sixteenth birthday.  It was an absolutely enchanting experience.  When you give a girl a ball gown and a tiara, she feels like a princess, which I coincidentally already was.  When I finally saw my finished and final dress, I started dancing up and down the halls of the castle, screaming like little girls do best.  I stared outside, looking at the falling snow, white against the black of the sky.  A perfect beginning to an assuredly perfect night. 

I was sitting on one of my many silk lounges in my dressing room as my maids dressed me in the beautiful blue gown, matching it with an identical purse and slippers.  When I was done, I stood up in front of my mirror, and twirled.  The many jewels on my dress twinkled in the candlelight.  I found that when the diamonds caught the light just right, they could make a rainbow. The best accessory by far, though, were my feathers.  The ball was to be a masquerade, and I was to dress as a peacock.  Then my governess came into the room, and we left in a flourish of skirts, scolding, and giggles.  

I entered grandly, following after my parents.  They had also dressed up, and it was hilarious to see my parents dressed up in such strange clothes.  The king went as a mighty lion with his mane billowing like his hair around his face, his crown topping off his look.  He started roaring with laughter when he saw the shocked faces of his court below him.  

The queen, though, chose a slightly more delicate and less shocking costume.  She arrived as a swan, with her ladies following behind her, reminding me of a flock.  I followed, but I was slightly less of a surprise.  Unlike my father’s shocking costume and my mother’s dainty dress, I had come in a delicate yet striking costume.  But I think the cheering of our court got a little louder when I entered.  

Then it was time for the dancing.  I had been most worried about this, because, unlike the other people at court, I had not been dancing since my birth.  At first, I was shy, reluctantly dancing with whoever asked me, but then a visiting prince appeared on the scene.  Trumpets pronounced his entrance, and there was a general swoon at his arrival.  

His dark features and boyish smile made him very high on the list of good prospects for marriage.  And it helped that he was a prince and in line to the throne of his kingdom.  His name was Jean Philippe VIII.  He was not invited, so I was surprised by his arrival, but his face was a welcome one.  We had already met a few years ago, when he was visiting the castle on royal business.  

Then, he had seemed formal and reserved, talking to me in a polite but forced way.  After talking to him for a while, though, I had started to know and befriend him.  Now, the moment he saw me, he broke into a mocking smile and bowed stiffly.  I immediately broke into a smile.  Jean was the kind of person who could make the most formal gesture look mocking. He had curly, shoulder-length black hair and piercing blue eyes.  All the ladies would swoon whenever they saw him, but to me he was just a friend.  

“May I have this dance?”  Jean Philippe asked.  

“Well, I could, but after stepping on Duke So-and-So’s feet and tripping over my own gown, I must warn you, your life may be in danger!”  I joked merrily.  

 With that, he spun me out onto the dance floor. “How could it be that such a pretty young lady like you does not know how to dance well?”  

“Well, I am only sixteen years old.” I replied very manner - of - factually like the obnoxious teenager I was.  “Did you know how to dance perfectly when you were only sixteen?”  I inquired of His Majesty the Prince (as I am supposed to call him).  

“Maybe I did!” he answered as I did a pirouette, “but I am not a beautiful young heir to the throne,” he stated simply, with a twinkle in his eye.  I had the feeling that he knew what I would say next.  

“Well, maybe you aren’t an heir, but you are quite young and beautiful!”  I said laughing at the silly face he made.  I found Jean to be the most funny person I had ever met before.

Later, after the dancing had finished, we proceeded to the throne room for my presents.  While Papa made his long (and very boring) speech, ices were passed out and a toast was offered in my honor.  “To the one and only Princess Adriana,” Jean Philippe VIII said as he looked at me.  It was almost as if he knew something that I did not. “May she live long and well.”  Suddenly, he shot me a menacing, though still very attractive, look.  I wondered if I had done anything wrong.  

We raised our glasses, but before I could drink out of mine, one of the courtiers leapt forward and knocked it out of my hand.  “I am sorry, your Majesty,” he said, bowing low.  “But I have reason to believe that your cup was poisoned.  Let us test it in your lab and see if your cup was truly poisoned.  I know that in our kingdom’s law it states that touching the royal family’s glasses is punishable by law, but if I am correct, I hope that you will forgive my betrayal.”  

“You are quite sure that it was poisoned?” the queen asked cautiously before freaking out.   

“I truly believe that it was, Your Majesty,” he replied.  Shocked gasps ran through the crowd.  My father started bellowing orders to the guards, who are suddenly awoken, after drinking themselves silly.  They quickly pull on their armor, and, having no idea where to go, began running around, brawling with the noblemen, not quite sure what to do.  Everyone who could have possibly have committed the crime was questioned.  The man that had questioned my drink was rushed to the dungeon until we could know for sure if my drink had been poisoned.

 Suddenly, everyone decided it was their bedtime.  They all rushed out of the ballroom.  It was just me, my parents and Jean then.  We stood around nervously and awkwardly until we all just suddenly  walked away, in our separate ways.    

I walked back to my room quietly, wondering how such a wonderful night could end so disastrously.  When I entered my dressing room, my governess was there to greet me.  “How was it?!” she asked me. “Oh, great,”  I replied sarcastically.  “I just found out my cup was poisoned.”  She looked horrified at the possibility.  I sat down tiredly, and soon I was changed into my nightgown.  Then, she tucked me into bed, and before I knew it, I was asleep.   

Author's Note: There you go!  Second chapter, new and improved.  Well, my new editor hasn't done it yet, but that doesn't count.  I have edited this by myself.  

Bye, 

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