The King of Galbore made a promise that the hero who ends the worst war of the century will marry his daughter. He did not expect that the hero will be Prince Cassian from a foreign kingdom which he never got along with. Trying to keep the promise to upkeep his reputation, he lets the prince marry the child from his first marriage instead of his gem. What the king did not realise was that the prince knew of his scheme and he intentionally went ahead with the marriage with the forsaken princess. Moreover, Cassian has an unexpected history with Princess Isabelle. But she does not seem to remember him… Isabelle posed as her sister Adeline during the wedding and thereafter, hoping to save her father and kingdom she learns how to be a princess she should be, facing the challenges along the way and many heartbreaks.
Last thing that Isabelle could have expected was Annette knocking on her door the next morning with a gleaming smile.
"Good morning, Adeline." Annette seemed way too excited for it to be a good thing.
"Good morning, Annette." Isabelle bowed her head respectfully.
"I've mentioned yesterday that your hair is dark. Look what I've managed to get!" Annette pulled out a ash blonde wig and a bottle with silvery liquid in it from behind her back. "The serum should lighten your hair and make it finer, but the wig still seems much more elegant. In that way, no one will be able to guess that you're from Galbore just by looking at you."
"Oh." Isabelle was speechless as she took the wig and the bottle, studying them both curiously. "Thank you."
"Would you like assistance with it?"
"No. I think I can manage." Another forced smile appeared ion Isabelle's face.
"That's alright. I will see you shortly then. I am sure that it'll fit you just great."
"Again, thank you, Annette."
Annette had a weird smile appear on her face. The kind of a smile that made Isabelle uncomfortable.
"I'll see you at breakfast." Annette walked away with a cheerful step leaving Isabelle stunned into silence.
She sat down by her dresser. Her hair was still flowing down in a long black waves.
Isabelle studied her reflection carefully and then the wig and the bottle of cream like liquid. She opened it and the foul smell instantly filled the room making her nauseous.
She realised in that instant that she didn't trust Annette. Instead of using the mixture she went to Chiron who welcomed her with a smile.
"It does seem about right content for the hair lightener but… that seems redundant."
"Tell me, is it true that most of the nobles in Ariadna are naturally blonde?"
"Well, that is sort of true. Ariadna's pure bloods are light haired and their descendants are known for that trait. But, as you'd expect, many of the royalty and nobles have since mixed. That trait is not a rule of thumb anymore."
"Like his highness?"
"The queen of Ariadna isn't from this kingdom. She's one of the daughters of king Theon of Storin."
"She's far from home." Isabelle noted.
"Indeed."
"So, this is definitely safe?"
"I am fairly certain. Are you suspecting someone to want to harm you?"
"No, I don't think so."
"I'm glad, your highness. I suppose that you will be occupied in the next few days."
"It is likely. Thank you, Chiron. I shall bother you again soon."
"Of course, your highness."
Isabelle retreated back to her chamber and after a long hesitation, she applied the liquid to her hair. She hoped to conceal her roots that screamed Galbore. Her background worked against her every step of the way. She was more ashamed of being Galborian than proud of it.
The vile smell from the top of her head made her worry but she persisted as she watched the streak of her hair fizz up. It must've been working. Soon she might have a bit more respect from the people around her.
Minutes have passed and the foul smell filled the room. Isabelle decided that it was sufficiently long enough and retreated to her bathroom, rinsing her hair thoroughly. It took ages and a bit longer, and the smell lingered in her hair. The water was cold by the time the smell became faint. Isabelle wiped herself dry and settled by the dresser only now seeing her hair. A gasp escaped her lips.
Her roots turned deep vibrant blue whilst her ends turned white.
Somehow, that shiny blue on top of her head seemed now much worse than previously raven black.
"No, no, no, no…" Isabelle kept repeating as she studied head hair. There was no more mixture left in a bottle, and she wasn't sure if she should request more from Annette or ask Chiron for help.
"Adeline, are you ready to go…" Matilda's voice sounded by the door.
"No, Matilda!" Isabelle's voice was panicked. "I will ready myself this morning. Can you get me a cup of tea this morning?" Isabelle covered her hair with a towel as she quickly spoke to her maid.
"Certainly. Is everything alright?"
"Yes. Please, may I have a cup of tea in my room before breakfast?"
"Of course. Right away." Matilda walked away without noticing Isabelle's predicament hidden under the towel.
Isabelle brushed her hair and tried to pin it so that the white end could cover the blue but to no avail. She looked through the wardrobe but no scarf or cloth seemed inconspicuous enough to hide it without drawing attention. Her eyes landed on a wig brought to her by Annette. It was her only hope to hide the awfully bright cobalt blue.
Her hair was simply too dark and saturated to have it strip completely out of colour with a lightening mixture.
She dressed herself and braided her hair, hiding it in a net under the wig. She looked in the mirror and found herself looking like a caricature, or a porcelain doll with hair glued on top. She closed her eyes, trying to calm down.
A thought passed through her mind. She distrusted Annette enough to wonder if it was her intend all along. She must've hated her for taking her place beside Cassian. She married the person Annette loved. She deserved it, truly, even if she didn't know about it she shouldn't have married Cassian.
"Your tea, Adeline." Matilda came back with a tray. She stopped and stared at Isabelle with a wig on, momentarily frozen. "Trying a new style today?" She smiled after the initial shock, bringing the tea to Isabelle.
"Yes." Isabelle nodded. "I am still learning of the fashion trends and I wanted to try something new to see how it feels."
"And?"
"I think I can survive with it." Isabelle lied outright. "Thank you for the tea. Would you like to join me?"
"Oh no, I-…" Matilda paused as she noticed Isabelle's begging eyes. "Would you like me to, Adeline?"
"Please, Matilda."
"Of course." Matilda sat down in a chair opposite Isabelle and carefully picked up one of the teacups.
"I am not certain that I will be able to make a good impression on his majesty when he arrives and I wondered if you could help."
"You will be quite alright, Adeline. His majesty is a very understanding man. And frankly, if I may speak with full honesty, he is much more cool-tempered and calculated than our prince. He is fair. Not to say that his highness is it, as they do share that quality, but his majesty had many more years of experience in learning what being fair truly means." Matilda tilted her head. "He isn't going to judge you, Adeline. His highness is already married to you. He never objected, he is unlikely to do so now."
"Sir Asselin already revealed to me that he didn't say a word about the marriage. It concerns me."
"Do not worry. And do not push yourself into being uncomfortable just to impress his majesty. He isn't going to care about a wig or a dress. Is there anything else that concerns you?"
"No, Matilda."
"How are your lessons?"
"They're good. I have learnt a lot."
"How do you find her Grace?"
"She's… very knowledgeable." Isabelle said carefully. Before long it was time for her to go down for breakfast during which she was completely quiet. Annette looked at her with satisfied smile which only reassured her that Annette's intention was not to help her.
Thankfully, Annette had a very important thing that morning which left Isabelle in peace and with a few books to familiarise herself with. Annette really underestimated Isabelle's reading speed as she was done way before Annette could be bothered with teaching her anything else.
Isabelle walked down the hall when Samuel's voice from the side corridor snapped her back.
"I wish to ask for my end of the deal today." Samuel said with a smile. "A sparring session. The royal guards are busy so we can use the training grounds without interruptions. I have the equipment readied for you."
"Oh." Isabelle looked worried. "There was no way she could fight with a wig on."
"Are you not going to hold to your end of the deal?" Samuel tilted his head.
"It is not that I don't want to… I am rather concerned that this is not suitable." She said quietly, shyly.
"As I've said, training grounds are empty. Hence I am suggesting it today. Matilda has your wear ready so meet me on the training grounds when you are ready." Samuel's gaze shifted to Isabelle's hair. "You're wearing a wig." Samuel noted as he furrowed his brows.
"Indeed. Apparently it is fashionable among the nobles."
"I much preferred your hair."
"I don't think I care enough for what you prefer." She grumbled hating to admit that she agreed with him.
"That's a fair point. Did the duchess recommend it?"
"She did." Isabelle sighed.
"Consider taking it off for our friendly fight."
"Friendly?"
"It's just for fun."
Isabelle snorted. There was hardly anything friendly about trying to stab each other.
Samuel walked away before she could protest further. Isabelle returned to her chamber where an outfit purposely designed for sparring has been placed on her bed, likely by Matilda. She was surprised that Samuel was this thoughtful.
She picked up the black set of tight trousers and a long dress made of linen with long slit in the middle to allow her for movement. These were complimented by a layered leather corset. She last had something similar when she was in her grandfather's castle. It was designed to allow to provide her with a freedom of movement.
Isabelle dressed up and found a silk scarf which she used as a headscarf, hiding her newly blue and white hair carefully and then she went towards the training grounds, cautious to not be spotted.