𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 [𝐋.𝐏]

1 | Rules are meant to be broken

Francine woke up one morning, glad she wasn't awoken by her annoying mother. Like she had been the previous mornings. This time she was woken by her sister's vinyl playing. She wasn't mad, as it was one of her favorites.

She finally fluttered her eyes open, adjusting to the light that shined through her beautiful floral curtains. She slowly sat up in her bed, admiring the view that was her bedroom. Her parents had finally let her add more plants and nature-like items in her room.

She took in the scent of vanilla that usually lingered in her room before her peace was disturbed by her sister, Marcella had opened her room doors. She stood very high, showing her mannerism.

"Mother is waiting for you." She spoke in her slight British accent, "doesn't seem happy. Look, dress nicely and have proper manners and maybe she'll let you off the hook." She smiled sweetly, "Now hurry." She rushed out as she walked out of the room.

Francine sighed, ready to be scolded. What would it be this time? Sneezing at the wrong time?

She stood up from her bed and went to her dresser. Francine wasn't a big fan of corsets but when it was necessary, she was fond of them. Time as of right now, a corset seems like an excellent option.

She has some struggle putting on her corset but once she did, she was proud. She put on a purple dress, along with a purple belt. She slipped on matching purple heels. Her naturally wavy hair looked already formal, formal enough for her mother. She combed it so it wasn't so over the place.

Her hair was perfect, well... ok looking. She put on some lipstick and blush before looking at herself in the mirror and deciding she looked fine. She couldn't stare and admire herself for long, looking at images of herself for too long she'll start to see flaws she rather not see.

She hurriedly made her way around the castle to where breakfast was held. Her father sitting on one end, her mother on the opposite end. Marcella sipping her tea as she knew mother was staring at her, judging her. Nicolette, her younger sister, was talking quietly with her father.

She sat next to Nicolette, who didn't acknowledge her. Her mother looked away from Marcella, who seemed to change her seating as her mother set eyes on her raven-haired sibling.

"Francine, you're late." Her mother said, resting her tea down, "Your excuse?"

"You weren't there to wake me."

"You're almost a grown woman. You should already know how to wake yourself up on time." She scolded, "I'm disappointed in you."

"Yes, I know." Francine fiddled with the bottom of her dress before inhaling a bit loudly, "If you'll excuse me,-"

"No, I don't excuse you." Her mother interrupted before she could continue, "You haven't touched your food."

"I'm not hungry." Francine settled, standing up from her chair, "I'll be reading if you need me." With that, she exited the room. Her mother shouted for her to stay within their land but Francine rather not. She'd rather take a risk.

She went up to her room and grabbed The Handmaid's Tale. She hadn't been close to the end, barely gotten the book. Nicolette was apologizing for her rudeness and got her the book.

As she was about to leave her room, she felt uncomfortable, looking down to her flat and hard stomach. The corset was agony. She closed her door and pulled out a floral, long dress. She took off her formal outfit and put on the more comfortable one. She smiled at herself in the mirror, realizing she needs to fix her hair.