The Ceremony [I]: To be a Princess

It's today. The 'Big Day'. 

I spent the last day taking language and mannerism lessons. I was to take them side by side to the dance lessons but because I was lacking more in the dance field, the Emperor said to prioritize them more.

"After all," he had said, "royal behavior and the official tongue must come naturally to you."

On top of all that, Martha suddenly asked me about my progress with the speech.

"I have to deliver a speech!?" I asked, appalled. 

"Customarily."

Since then I've been extremely stressed. 

"Your Highness," Martha sighed. "Do stop pacing the floor and come sit down. Have a little bite before resuming the preparations."

"Martha." I turned to her, stopping briefly in my tracks. "If I eat anything right now, I'm afraid I'll throw it all up later today. Don't want to ruin the dress, right?"

Martha's eyebrows furrowed as if she was about to argue my point but then eased back as she realized that I was right.

"At least drink some water," she said.

Popping with nerves, I extended a hand to her and she handed me a goblet of water which I downed in a second. 

Today, I was too nervous to be calm. I wringed my hands and kept looking at the window, perplexed. It was already the afternoon and Reynard was nowhere to be seen. So wasn't Yvonne.

"Martha," I said, "has Yvonne come to visit today?"

She looked confused at my mention of her. "No, Your Highness."

I sighed loudly and plopped on the bed.

"Has the dress arrived?"

"Yes, Your Highness. The butler brought it in this morning. We've had it all set in the special dressing room."

"And my shoes? The accessories?"

"All set."

The fact that everything was already prepared was making me even more anxious. I was hoping that something could be amiss and the ceremony would get postponed but I guess everybody was just too efficient today.

"Has the ballroom been set up?" I asked, hoping to get a negative response.

"Your Highness, you mustn't bother about such matters," Martha said, trying to be assuring. "Everything is all in place. We'll get you ready right in time and the guests will start showing up by 7 pm. You need not worry."

7 pm. That was in five hours. 

I had five hours to meet up with either one of my mastermind-planners-strategists-partners in crime and brief over the final course of action. None of them had made an appearance yet and I had started to worry that maybe they'd bailed on me. 

Just then, a knock came at the door. Martha went over to open it and immediately fell down in a curtsy. I walked to the door to see who it was and was relieved to see Yvonne standing there in all her glory. 

"Your Highness," she smiled and curtsied, one leg behind the other. "I've come."

I nodded. "Martha, could you give us a minute?" I asked quietly.

When she finally left, I shut the door and quickly turned to Yvonne. 

"So," I began, "did you..."

She anticipated my words. "The decoy is ready."

I sighed, relieved. But then tensed up again as I thought of something.

"Okay, listen here," I said. "This decoy- will she pass off as me? Does she look even remotely similar to me?"

Yvonne thought. "Well, the only thing she's got going for her," she said, "is the eyes. She's got pretty sea-green eyes. Not as green as yours, though. But green enough, I'd say."

"And…?" I prompted. "How old is she?"

"Older than you," was Yvonne's answer. "23?" 

I started sweating. 

"And...hair? What about the hair?"

"Brown."

I slumped down on my bed. 

"Yvonne, I thought you said your plan was foolproof! What are we to do? The decoy will never pass off as me."

Yvonne- with a hint of humor in her voice- said, "I never said my plan was foolproof. Besides, no plan's ever foolproof. But we can make this work."

I looked up. "How?"

"Listen carefully," she said. "And make note of the important points."

I sat up, my dress clenched in my hands.

"Your maids- Hetty and Marilynne- I heard that these two are to prepare you and Miss Martha is to see over all processions."

  I nodded.

"Hetty and Marilynne," she said, deep in thought, "are these two well aware of your face? The particular features?"

      I nodded again.

"Okay, so this is what we're going to do," Yvonne said, clapping her hands. "Say you get ready for your grand entrance at 6 pm, yes? You'll make sure that your maids get to see a lot of you and you convince them that it'll be you who's going to be at the ceremony. No one else, but you."

I nodded, making a mental note.

"Then right before your entrance, you'll change attire with the decoy, alright? She'll be the one to enter, not you. Meanwhile you and I will quietly slip out of the palace."

"But," I spoke up, "won't the guests at the ceremony be quick to notice the difference? The hair-"

"I've a wig," Yvonne said firmly. "I'll ask your maid what hairstyle you will be going with for the night and I'll prepare the wig accordingly in advance. You've nothing to worry about."

That's well and all... 

"But," I said again, "what about the first dance?"

Yvonne looked confused. "What dance?"

"I've to dance. With a partner. Guy. Close contact. Exposed." I was throwing out words at this point for Yvonne to understand. 

Yvonne remained silent for a while but I could see the wheels turning in her head as she thought about a solution. Then suddenly she clicked her fingers as if to say 'Eureka!'.

"There isn't any way to avoid the dance," she nodded. "So you'll just have to go along with it, won't you?"

I groaned and she smiled. 

"We can get you changed after the first dance and you can quietly slip away while the guests are busy," she said, laughing at my misery. "Remember, Your Highness. There's always a way."

I laid my head down and thought over the plan.

"What's going to happen to me then?" I asked quietly. "Why am I even escaping in the first place?"

Yvonne sat down next to me.

"Because you'll be killed next year, otherwise."

"But why do we have to leave today?" I asked, not understanding. "They're not going to kill me today. Even if they do get to see my powers, they'll not instantly harm me, would they? So can't we leave a few days later when things aren't so hectic?"

"Your Highness," Yvonne started, "have you forgotten? After the ceremony, you're not going to get a day of rest in your life. Ever."

I furrowed my eyebrows, confused.

Yvonne continued to explain. "The prophecy stated that you'll work hard for one whole year before your 'sacrifice' to gain the favor of you people. It's an important clause for the absolute success of the ritual and to avail eternal blessings."

I didn't say anything.

"Ok, whatever!" I spoke after a long time. "Who's this girl that'll be taking my place? Is it someone I know?"

Yvonne looked surprised. "Hmm? Yes. I'm sure you've met her. She works at the palace."

✿

"Zoie?" I asked incredulously. "Zoie!?"

Yvonne looked amused. "Zoie is a good friend of mine. She was actually an employee back at King Irvin's castle. I'd say she's a pretty good build to be mistaken for you at first glance, don't you reckon?"

Zoie stood there nervously as she fidgeted with her apron and looked from my face to Yvonne's and back. 

Yvonne and Zoie seemed to be pretty well acquainted with each other, as if they'd lived together for a while.

Yvonne saw me wondering so she spoke, "She used to attend to me back in Clatoise. I had her apply for the job when I heard there was a sudden opening."

It pained me to think about how this opening had happened and I longed to say something about it but decided to keep my mouth shut. I couldn't risk getting on Yvonne's bad side when she was going the extra mile while trying to assure my survival.

"Right, Zoie," I said, turning to her, and was surprised to see her suddenly curtsy once again.

She said with her tiny but strong voice, "Yes, Your Highness!"

"I need you by my door after the first dance today, alright? Make sure you keep check when it ends. I definitely can't tolerate any late-comings today. It's an important event and I can't miss this opportunity."

She nodded along with every word. "Of course, Your Highness. I will make sure not to inconvenience you in any way."

"Good," I said as I turned on my heel.

Let the show begin.

✿

"Your Highness, would you mind coming with me to the dressing room?" Martha said as she held onto my bedroom door. "It's time to get ready."

...

It was the perfect day. For going on the lam, that is. 

The sun was about to retire for it was almost 6pm. Just like Yvonne had predicted. I silently followed Martha through the partially familiar palace corridors and through a grand door which led into the 'dressing room'.

Since the day I arrived, I never once got the liberty to let in here as I was always dressed in my own room. But today as it was a grand occasion, I was allowed to step through the very door which I often walked past, wondering if it concealed any secrets.

The very secret: Dresses. Tons of them.

Rack after rack, my eyes raked in awe over the wonderful array of garments. Several dresses were deemed the honor of being worn by lifeless wooden mannequins arranged in an orderly fashion. 

My feet moved with a will of their own as they sauntered along the white carpet which was decorated with golden accents. The very epitome of magnificence. Above my head hung a delicate glass-cut chandelier like the ones I've only received the privilege of seeing in pictures. 

"Right this way," Martha guided me by my shoulders to a long, wall-sized mirror which reflected everything therein was, making the room appear much larger than it actually was.

On a white mannequin by the far wall, hung my dress. The color and feel of it was still fresh in my mind. I smiled to myself as I thought how soon this dress would be worn by someone not me and I wouldn't ever be able to be sheathed by it again.

Near the dress on an upholstered pedestal displayed was a stunning pair of white kitten heels. With one look at the chain of pink flowers on the vamp and golden patterns near the base, I knew Martha's choice would be perfect.

If you'd asked me half-a-month ago, I wouldn't have dreamt of being fitted in such stately apparel. I was more or less content with my grey sweatpants and a red shirt with a fake brand logo on the bosom. 

But now after getting a taste of pure luxury, if I was thrown back into my old body once again, I dare say I'd have a hard time adjusting.

"Your Highness," Martha said, jerking me awake from my dream-like daze, "the ceremony commences in an hour, meaning we haven't any time to waste. It would be best if you undress so we could fit you out in your ceremony dress."

I stripped down to my knockers and the maids started pulling Fleur's special dress over my head. At that very moment, we all heard a knock at the door.

Martha walked over an opened a door an inch, then fell down in a curtesy, "Madame Sumner, how may we assist you?"

Yvonne had arrived. She was wearing a different dress than she had worn in my room earlier and might I say, she looked stunning. The royal blue really complemented her red hair. Her hair had also been tied back into a low bun and on either side of her head hung lovely teardrop earrings. It seemed that she was already ready for the ceremony.

"Martha," she said and smiled as if she'd known her all her life, "I see that the princess is getting ready. How wonderful!" We locked eyes as she stepped into the room and shut the door behind her. "I just wanted to see how everything was going...wondering if Her Highness needed any help..."

"Actually," I spoke up for the first time since Yvonne had left my room earlier, "why don't you select a hairstyle for me? My maids were having trouble deciding by themselves."

Hetty and Marilynne's confused exchange of glances did not go unnoticed by her.

"I would love to assist," Yvonne said as she approached me and looked at my reflection in the mirror. "With such a lovely dress, a lovely style of hair is called for, don't you all reckon?"

My maids nodded in agreement. 

"How about," Yvonne said slowly, "we curl it?"

"Curl it?" everyone muttered, puzzled.

I, too, was surprised. Princess Cynthia had always had long, straight hair according to my conception and never had the idea to curl it approached my mind. But now that I think about it, the reflection before me would look absolutely ravishing with long wavy hair.

"I like the idea," I told Yvonne's reflection. "But have you any proposal about how we must carry it out?" 

Yvonne smiled that lethal smile of hers.

"Martha," she said, "would you mind bringing a pair of tongs from the kitchen along with a pot of steaming water?"

Confused but in no position to refuse, Martha curtsied and mumbled a faint reply before she disappeared through the door and Yvonne turned her attention back to my head of hair. 

"Then we could pin up the upper section," she continued demonstrating to my maids, "and finish it up by embellishing it with a statement piece of hair decor, preferably a flower of some sort to compliment the flowery personality of the princess. Do you have something of the likes?"

Marilynne nodded and brought back a red velvet covered box with a string around it which she unraveled to reveal a lovely flower brooch made with a light, white stone sitting deep in the plush satin of the casket.

"This brooch belonged to," Marilynne stopped and lowered her voice to a whisper, "Her Majesty."

Yvonne smiled sweetly. "Oh, did it now?" she said as she gently picked up the white brooch and examined it against my hair. "Yes, it would look absolutely perfect along with the dress. Your Highness, you will surely look a picture if I've got anything to do with it." 

Martha came back with a pair of metal tongs tucked under her arm and a pot of steaming water which she held by a piece of cloth. She placed the materials on a table right by where Yvonne stood and retired once more into the background.

Yvonne picked up the tongs and dipped it in the water before taking them out and clicking it against the pot to let off any excess water. Then she proceeded to take a section of my hair and wrapped it around the hot tongs.

"Not to worry," she said, noticing the worrying looks the maids were exchanging. "This is a common method of curling hair in Clatoise. I, myself, have attempted this countless times myself so I dare say I won't mess up."

Section after section of hair became a victim of Yvonne's tongs but unwrapped to fall by my side in the neatest of defined waves. Soon enough, my whole head of hair had been styled and embellished with the white flower. 

The maids and Yvonne stood back to admire their work and gushed with excitement. Everyone laughed and Martha came to comment to Yvonne about a job well done.

"Now all we've got to do," Hetty said, "is apply a bit of makeup and accessorize her and we'll be done! And we might even get a couple minutes to spare."

We all turned to glance out the window. It was almost dark which meant the ceremony was about to start. 

The next few minutes were spent applying this and that on my face and the maids arguing about which necklace would go well against my dress. Since I hadn't any sense of fashion, I just stood there, hoping my opinion wouldn't be sought out. 

"Right, that's done," Martha said, prying Hetty and Marilynne off of me. "Your Highness, take a look at your final appearance before we head out."

I didn't need to give myself a second glance to be absolutely positive that this was the prettiest I'd ever looked at the palace. I can't have looked more like a princess. 

"You look so regal," Yvonne commented. "Oh I can't wait to see you delivering your speech! Everyone would be in awe of you."

The speech! I had totally forgotten about that. But oh well, I'll conjure something up when the time comes. After all, I won't be seeing the faces of anyone here after today, so I won't have to face the humiliation. 

"Martha," I said. "The time?"

"6:54, Your Highness."

"Good. Let's go."