Prince of Porcelain

Chapter 1: Abducted

DISCLAIMER: Mature themes throughout this book, if you don't like it don't read it.
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   The Prince of Porcelain. That's what they call me. They say my skin is so white it is almost transparent, like glass. They say I move as if I'm a glass figure on a music box, dancing delicately and gracefully.
   But what they see if only a shell.
Everyone in Sapphania sees me as just a trophy on display, something for them to fawn over and awe at. My father wants me to find a "suitable" wife, but he doesn't see what these ladies act like around me.
They stroke my skin like I'm some sort of cat, and their dresses reveal much more than I've ever wanted to see. Some of them will pounce on top of me when no one is there, or try to take off my clothes. I'm able to get the girls off of me before they go too far, but they always come back for more.
No one here cares about the mind, they only care about the body. I don't turn myself into a glass doll, my family does. They'll make servants cover my face with white powder, even though I'm naturally pale. Some days, they'll even put red paint on my almost blue lips, like today.
I prefer reading over becoming a woman's play thing. I prefer being alone rather than socializing with royal courtiers. Writing poems and stories are far more entertaining than giving speeches.
According to my father, I'm the heir to the throne. Of course. Being an only child has grown on me, but I can't become a king. I don't have the authority. No person here wants a smart king rather than a king who can smile and wave flawlessly. I'm not good enough for anyone except myself. I'm not beautiful enough for them.

The pure white walls of my bedroom confine me at night. With barely anything left to do, I simply sit in front of my vanity mirror, observing my so-called "doll-like" features.
My lips are tinted cherry-red, slightly faded from being worn all day. Along with my ghostly white skin, the servants had contoured my cheekbones, making them more visible. Moderately long golden hair is combed neatly on my head, almost curving in on my sharp jawline. The mirror reflects my chocolate brown eyes, letting them stare into my soul.
A crown of silver rests on my head, a hoop of silver designs and blue sapphires. Blue silk and satin fabric creates the long-sleeved shirt on my thin torso. Navy colored pants cover my legs, which are sort of spider-like. A long, silver and blue cape flows down my back onto the floor.
My vanity stand out me with my back to the large window that acts as a door, which leads to a small balcony. The bright, white moon shines a dim light in the dark night sky, with dark clouds floating through the air.
I think about how, to everyone, I'm a doll on display. One of my father's grand creations and nineteen year-old trophy. Nobody sees me for who I am, just for how I appear.
With all of these sad and depressing thoughts in my mind, I begin to cry. Here, everyone sees crying as showing weakness, so when I do cry, I do it alone. Tears burn my eyes as I bury my face in my arms, laying on the vanity stand.
I hate my life, I hate it. How much longer can I take this?
Suddenly, I hear my window creak open. Cheeks damp from tears, I turn around at the sudden noise. I thought I heard other sounds following the window's opening, but then silence came.
Wiping the tears off my face, I make my way to the window, my cape flowing behind me. No wind blew through the air, so if that didn't open the window, what did? Maybe I didn't shut it all the way.
As I closed the transparent doors, I thought I heard soft tapping on the floors. Before I could turn around to see what it was, icy cold hands grasped my wrists and pulled them harshly behind my back.
I screamed at the shock of being grabbed by an unknown figure, and before I could scream again, someone tied a strip of cloth over my mouth. The cold hands that grasped me first began tying multiple layers of rope around my wrists.
Another figure tied more rope around my ankles and knees. I tried to struggle and scream, but the bonds and gag held me back. Nothing other than terror filled both my body and mind. I can barely breathe through my nose, and the cloth stifles my breathing through my mouth, so my head begins to spin.
The figure that tied my feet and legs looked up in the darkness and grinned wickedly at me. Pearly white teeth almost illuminated his mouth, and his teeth were sharp, fang-like. Then, disturbing laughter erupted from behind me, from my captors.
Suddenly, the cold handed figure grabbed me from under my arse and slung my thin body over their shoulder. My silver crown fell from my head, but another figure caught it, the metal and jewels glistening in the moonlight.
I tried to scream and protest, but they came out muffled and quieted. My captors rushed to the window and burst onto the balcony. They climbed down three long coils of rope, with me still slung over a shoulder.
Once we arrived onto the stone pavement of the castle courtyard, a dark, metallic carriage awaited my kidnappers' arrival. Two coal-colored horses stood at the front, waiting to pull us away. Now, in the brighter moonlight, three masked men had captured me.
I couldn't help but protest and plea as tears filled my eyes. I was scared out of my mind, and it is quite large. Two of the men threw me into the carriage as the other went to drive it. I hit the wooden floor as they climbed into the carriage with me bound and gagged on the ground.
I must look so pathetic, I thought to myself, one of the only times I've truly thought about my appearance. Suddenly, I heard a shout and the carriage began to shake and move. Quiet conversations are made between the two men in the carriage with me, but before I can turn to observe them, one of them pulls a cloth blindfold over my eyes.
I scream out in surprise and mumble muffled protests as the men laughed at me. Panic, fear, and terror filled my entire being. That added with not being able to breathe caused me to black out.