The soft music of my alarm slowly pulls me out of my slumber. I look at the clock on my wall. It reads 8:27. I almost groaned, but I would hurt my throat. I didn’t get a full 9 hours of sleep! I will have to get Riva to reset my alarm. If this keeps going on, my skin will dull, and my eyes will turn grey. It is so hard to be a royal! I have to look good, and act well, and everyone hates me! Well, the citizens don’t, but the Fairies do. Uggh. Life is terrible. I just wish I could go back to bed, but of course, I can’t. Mother has a fit if I sleep in too long on weekdays. I slide off the side of my bed, and walk into the dressing room, my silk slippers barely making a sound on the marble floors. I walk over to the wall and ring the bell signaling it's time for Riva to help me get dressed. Riva rushes in to help me. Bless her soul, that girl barely sleeps five hours. She looks exhausted. Her plain brown hair is an absolute mess. She is already dressed, and in her handmaid’s gown. Her eyes are her redeeming quality. She has soft brown eyes, that you can just get lost in. I almost grin when she comes in, I enjoy her company. More than I like to admit.

As a Royal, there are very strict rules about who we can or cannot wed or fall in love with. I find it silly to think that falling in love is something you can control. I am not allowed to like another girl, but I just can’t help it! Riva is so kind, helpful and, well, in my opinion, beautiful. But I can’t be in love with her, so I revert to icy, and cold. It is the only thing I can be without revealing my true feelings. As she comes in, I stare at her. Well, maybe I’m staring into her eyes. I don’t know anymore. I sigh in pretend frustration.

“Took you long enough. I have to be at breakfast soon, and I must be dressed.” I slip into my morning gown, and she helps me put on my bodice and shoes. Then she silently does my hair, combing the diamond-handle comb through my soft blonde hair. It feels so natural and relaxing. She doesn’t need to ask how I want my hair, she does every morning. At this point she just silently braids it.

“How is that, Miss?” She asks quietly. Riva is not one to talk very loudly, which is fine, seeing as she is a servant. I curtly nod and she walks out of the room to get a hot towel for my face. I begin my daily routine which is how I make my skin so smooth and healthy. I keep it a secret, though. I will say that I begin with a mask of hot milk and honey, and the rest involves fish oil, spring water, and a long, long list of other ingredients that I needn’t go through. When the face mask dries, I rub my face with Riva’s hot towel and move into the rest of my routine. It really is truly tedious being a royal. When she is done, she slips out of the room to do whatever else she has to do.

I put my tiara in my hair and walk down the marble stairs leading to the hall of pictures. I see pictures of Knights, Servants, anyone who worked in the castle who is now dead. But the thing that pains me the most is the picture of my brother, who died years earlier from scarlet fever. I suddenly hear noise coming from the back rooms. I speed up, telling myself that it is probably just servants getting ready for the day. As I get closer to the dining hall I hear the clang of silverware on dishes and sigh with relief. My family is alright, and there is nothing to worry about. Worrying gives me hives.

But when I walk into the room, I see fairies sitting at my dining room table! One man has his feet on the table, and is nonchalantly playing with a knife, twirling it between his fingers and throwing it around. When he sees me come in, he smiles.

“Hey, Princesse. I have a little gift for you, courtesy of le résistance. Trust me, you will like this gift. It's better than what your parents got.” He nods towards the back wall, and I stifle a scream. There, just dumped in the corner of the dining room, are the bodies of my parents covered in blood. I see some red mist creeping towards me, and I try to run away from it, but someone is behind me blocking my path. It is Riva, her face one of sorrow and regret. She has a ball of red in her hand, where the mist is coming from.

“I’m so sorry Cecily. But trust me, this is for the best.” Suddenly, she puts her hands over my eyes and I pass out.