“Hi. I’m…uh…”- I rack my mind for a name-”Elisabetta.” Sounds prissy enough, anyway. “I’m going to a, uh, princess costume party. I need to look like an imaginary princess. So, um, I’ll need a complete makeover so that I look nothing like myself. Also, if you have a selection of clothes, that would be amazing.” Belle smiles.
“Okay”, she tells me joyfully. Does she always sound so happy? “I have the dresses in the back. They’re all the latest styles.” She skips along to the back, me following at her heels, and stops at a rack full of dresses. “This is our collection. All sewn with a sewing machine.” I look through the frills. They’re beautiful and all, but they all look exactly like the ones that we wear in town. I need exotic dresses. From different or even imaginary countries.
“Um”, I start nervously, ”Do you have any other, like, original dresses? That you made or something?” Belle positively radiates happiness from every corner of her being. I’ve never seen anything like it. “Oh, yes! I have a collection of dresses that I made. Would you like to see them?” she says excitedly, bouncing up and down. I grin and nod, and we go down a set of stairs.
Belle flips a switch and the place is bathed with a warm glow. I look around, now almost bouncing up and down like Belle. This is perfect! I rifle through the closets and racks. All of these dresses look like a color bomb exploded all over them! I notice an elegant purple dress, with green and blue skirts; a short orange sundress, with pink stars; but what catches my eye is a spring-green flowing dress, made beautiful with what appears like wreaths of flowers wound around the skirt. It’s actually an embroidered green vine and multi-colored flowers that are so well sewn that they look real. Also, it’s pretty inexpensive compared to some of the other dresses, so I choose it and pay at the counter. Then I step into the changing room to try it on. I made the right choice-it feels as soft as a cloud and is easy to run in, and it’s the finest clothing I’ve worn. Not that I’ve had a lot of them.
“Okay”, I tell her, “Now as I was saying, for the makeover, I need to look unrecognizable, so I can surprise people. So my skin can stay white, but I need spring-green contact lenses and my moon birthmark turned into a star.” She nods, quite professionally, seats me in a chair, and gets to work. Spray bottles fly, spritzing me down with perfume and water and who-knows-what. Removable tattoos are pressed on all side of my moon, turning it into a star. She opens my eyes wide and shows me how to apply my contacts. Finally she stands back, circling me quickly to check for any mistakes. She scrutinizes me, making me fidget. Then, as if a switch was flipped, Belle turns back into the smiling, happy one that I know.
“Do you like it?” she asks hopefully, showing me a mirror. Wait! Who is this? Did someone enter the shop when I wasn’t paying attention? I whirl around to confront her, only to realize that there isn’t anyone else. Slowly realization dawns on me. The lady in the mirror is me! I look so different, and my hair isn’t even done yet! I jump up and hug Belle so hard that she gasps for breath.
“Thank you thank you thank you!” I tell her giddily. Her smile is so big that it literally goes from ear to ear. I’m not exaggerating. I back off and take a deep breath to calm myself down. “Thank you so much, Belle. I’ll never forget you.”
She smiles dazzlingly and then asks, “How about your hair?”
“For my hair, I need soft, sweeping bangs and long, flowing hair that’s light blonde,”, I tell her. She transforms back to the professional Aurora and nods tightly. Her spray bottles mist my hair with water and she runs a comb through the tangles. I wince as she pulls through an especially big knot. After all the tangles are out, her scissors snip at my hair at dizzying rates and locks of my hair drop to the floor. Finally she makes the last clips. She pulls out a soft blonde dye bottle and gently covers all my hair with it.
“How do you like it?” Belle asks shyly. I stare at myself, jaw hanging open. I know by this time that it’s actually me, but my brain isn’t really registering it. I look so…different. I’m no longer Rose-Red or even Shadow. I am now Princess Ellowyn Aspen, flowers like those I’m dressed in. Princess Ellowyn Aspen of Calais. of I look at Belle and smile gratefully. Then I wrap her up in a hug and practically waltz around the room with her. “Thank you so much, Belle”, I say, finally tired from all the waltzing. I place the money in her hand and go into the bathroom to change. Then I walk out the door into my new future.
Chapter 3
Okay, this is my plan: I go up to the front door of the house I used to live in and ask Irene and Snow-White for directions to the castle. If they scream and try to knife me, I need a better disguise. If they think I’m a foreign princess, they’ll be worried and try to mislead me. And since I know the way to the castle, I’ll be fine. The reason I need to do this is so that they don’t recognize me if they show up at the castle. If my cover is blown, I’m dead. I’ll be prosecuted on so many charges: treason, trespassing, forgery, fraud-the list goes on. So with my superior fighting skills, I stand a chance against them if I’m not charged with a criminal activity. But in front of the prince? I won’t stand a chance against the executioner.
I stop in front of the fancy, marble-doorstepped, three-story house. Memories pop into my head- Snow-White getting five rooms for just her make-up while all my stuff had to fit into the cupboard I slept in. Curling up in the cupboard to sleep with the air conditioning right behind me, clanking and screeching, freezing me. And I’m going back into it willingly? I shake my head to drown out the thoughts and slowly ascend the stairs to the front door, breezing past the guards calmly. I ring the doorbell before the guards know what happens.
I knock on the door with sharp raps, trying to sound princess-like. A servant answers the door, clothed in blue with gold tassels. Yup- even the servants were better dressed than me. He calls over Irene as he sees my royal-looking outfit. Irene’s eyes widen as she pulls the door open. “Hello”, I say kind of regally. “I must be at the castle soon, as the prince is expecting me. But alas, I know not the way. Will you be so kind as to guide me?” Irene’s eyes snap sharply. I bet she wasn’t expecting that.
“Yes; you can turn right at the intersection and continue straight. Keep going until you see the castle.” She slams the door. My disguise works! She gave me directions to go out of the country. Nice try, Irene. Takes more than that to set me off. I smile graciously and thank the door in case she’s listening. Then I’m on my way to the actual castle, just a short walk away. Maybe an hour or two.
I’m careful not to get mud on my skirt; as the fashion column in our newspaper says, “Presentation is everything.” Unfortunately, my bare feet are harder to manage. I’m realizing that not wearing shoes, even if it worked with the outfit, was a terrible idea. I step as lightly as if I’m hunting a deer, but even then my toes are touching the ground. Well, who knows? Maybe me being a ‘princess’ and all, dirty feet will soon be the latest fad. I don’t understand why people think that if someone important is wearing something, they should wear it too.
Finally I’m at the palace and I wipe my feet as best as I can. Then, taking a deep breath, I dart past the guards, who grab at me, but I’m skinny and fast. I sprint to the steps leading to the door, smooth my skirts, and stride through the door confidently, as if I belong. I smile winningly at the court, who look dumbfounded. There are rows and rows of courtiers and ministers surrounding a throne. In it sits a middle-aged queen, hair loose and sitting straight.
“Hello”, I say, curtsying politely, “I am Princess Ellowyn Aspen of Calais. I take it that you have been notified of my arrival?” The queen- I think her name is Marisel Mirabelle- recovers quickly, shaking her head. Of course she hasn’t, I made the whole thing up. The lines in her forehead stand out even more with confusion. She tilts her head ever so slightly, her dark hair falling to one side and blue-green eyes squinted in concentration. She shakes her head more quickly, more definitely, and guards come forward to throw me out.
I panic and grope for a solution. “My father didn’t not
ify you? How strange! I was sure that he told you. Are you quite certain that you can manage your schedules correctly?” I cross my fingers behind my back, hoping that the queen wants to maintain her kingdom’s pride. I get lucky. She takes the bait and says haughtily, “We manage our schedules perfectly. Now that you mention it, I do remember something of the sort. I was just momentarily caught up in my thoughts. Stewards, show the princess to her room.” Not exactly hospitable, but she accepted it.
I follow the steward and arrive at the biggest, grandest room I’ve set eyes on. Not that I’ve had a huge amount of giant rooms. I take it in with wonder, not believing it’s real. I sink into the beautifully soft mattress with a sigh. This is like floating on a cloud! My hyper giggle is cut off when I sink further into the bed, making the bedsheet cover my mouth. I guess I have to be careful around this thing. The perimeter of this room seems like a mile, though it’s probably closer to almost two hundred feet. I have a beautiful view from the elegant oval-shaped window. But the best part is the roof that can open with a press of a button. The mechanics are cool and everything, but the one reason I love this room so much is the tree hanging over the roof. It’s a big, old, mossy tree with a thick trunk and knobbly roots. If I climbed on the bedpost, I could sit on the branch closest to me and go up from there. Well, might as well try! I climb on the bedpost and reach up with one arm. I can barely grasp the branch. As I reach with my other hand, I lose balance! I’m falling! Help!
I brace for impact when I realize that I’m not hitting the ground, but my shoulder really hurts. I’m still holding on with one hand! Thank god. I’m not going to think about what would happen if I fell all that distance. I strain to reach with my other hand, then pull myself up with both arms. The branch is comforting, like a sofa almost. I allow myself a break, then keep going. As I swing onto the top branch, I realize how truly spectacular the sight is. The hills overlap for as long as I can see and the trees spread out like a blanket. A blue lake shimmers in front of me, and I swear I see a fish jump out.
Hey. I hear someone knocking! I panic and start to scramble down the tree. As I reach the bottom, the person loses patience and barges in. I realize that it’s the sixteen year old Prince Caspian Percival Leopold the Seventh as soon as I see the crown. He’s much loved by everyone in the kingdom, but now that I think about it, his face has never appeared on any newspaper or screen. At least in the articles, he is described as kind and sweet. I guess that’s why I didn’t know before this that he looks kind of…spoiled. And bratty. He’s got rolls of fat hanging off his stomach and arms and a turned-up snub nose, making his appearance resemble a pig’s. His clothes are impeccably neat, completely clashing with his chocolate and sugar-covered face. He gives me a smarmy, annoyingly condescending smile. I feel nauseous from seeing half-chewed food between his teeth.
“You must be Princess Ellowyn. My mother told me about you and your so-called kingdom Calais”, he says in an extremely oily voice. You know, I never understood the word oily until now. Or “makes your skin crawl”. But this guy makes the definition clear. I force my voice to stay even.
“I’m sorry, I must not have heard properly. I thought momentarily that you jested at the expense of my kingdom”, I reply calmly. Wow. Where do I even get these words from? He squints at me, a task that’s difficult considering his already squinty eyes. He sneers maliciously.
“I guess you need to check your hearing”, he throws over his shoulder as he strolls out of the room. I close the door slowly, digesting the situation. This is the prince that I’m saving? I don’t even know if I want to! I might let Snow-White poison him or whatever. But I remind myself that I’m not doing this for the prince, I’m doing it for the kingdom. The world would be a terrible place with rulers like Irene. But if this guy always acts like this, the members of the kingdom would not be quite as fond of the prince. I’m about to climb back up my tree when I see a dog rushing past the doorway! My instincts kick in and I dive for it, grabbing the giant by the collar. Actually, giant would be an understatement. This dog is almost as tall as I am, and probably three times as heavy! It delicately licks my cheek, but starts to growl when a stressed-looking lady comes rushing up. “I’m so sorry about Gator! He can be so out of control sometimes!” she apologizes anxiously.
“That’s okay. He’s fine”, I reassure her. Now that I think about it, Gator’s a pretty strange-looking dog. He’s got the body of a Doberman, but his fur is long, soft, and orange, like a Pomeranian’s. And there’s a dog next to the woman, too. It’s got the body and fur of a Pomeranian, but the colors of its fur are brown and black, like a Doberman’s. That’s so weird! The little puffball of a dog bounds over to me and throws itself into my arms, licking fiercely at me. Even weirder; the big dog is quiet and delicate towards me, but the small dog is fierce and confident! The woman smiles.
“They’re brother and sister. The little one is Allie, the giant is Gator. Allie takes after her dad, Gator more resembles his mom. But both of them inherited traits from both sides of the family. It’s strange”, she explains. I laugh at the craziness of it all while Allie continues to attack my face and Gator rubs his fur under my hand, asking quietly for petting.
The lady introduces herself as Clara. She claims to be a maid, but I feel like she’s holding something back from me. Something about the way she walks, or talks, tells me that she is too posh to be a maid.
“I’m not actually supposed to have these dogs”, Clara tells me confidentially. “But I’m so attached to them that I can’t bear to let them go! I usually keep them under lock and key in my room, but as I was locking the door they squeezed by and ran. Can you keep this a secret? I’ll never let it happen again!”
Of course I agree, because considering that I’m faking being a princess, I really have no right to be telling on her.
As the dogs leave with Clara, I retreat back to my room. It’s been a long day.
Chapter 4
I yawn, stretching as I wake up from a terrible night’s sleep. The bed kept sinking in and suffocating me, and the pillow was so high that my neck is cramping. Apparently I’m not experienced in luxury. Oh, well. Time for breakfast. Food is served at at nine, so I have an hour to get ready. I put in my contacts, press on the removable tattoos, and switch on the shower. The queen was kind enough to supply me with a wardrobe full of elegant dresses, and I lay out a sleeveless emerald green gown. It comes with a green silk scarf that shimmers with every step and a silver chain with an emerald pendant. I clean all the dirt off of myself and stay in the water until the water that runs off of me isn’t brown. After I wash my hair, I switch off the water and dry off myself with the soft, fluffy towels in the bathroom. It’s the first bath I’ve taken in ages. FInally I wear the clothes and admire myself. My excuse for being so dirty and unclean yesterday? I’ve “traveled far to reach the kingdom which I’ve heard so many good things about.” Flattery never goes wrong.
I walk into the dining hall for breakfast and smile graciously at Queen Marisel.
“I do apologize for my appearance yesterday. I have traveled for months to reach this kingdom that I have heard so much about. Do excuse me”, I announce to the whole table full of courtiers and their wives. Then I sweep into the seat and smile at everyone. After a couple seconds of staring, everyone goes back to their normal conversations. Inside I grin triumphantly. They believed it! I help myself to the delectable food. It’s difficult to keep from stuffing my face full, but I make myself savor every rich bite. I’ve heard stories of people getting sick from eating too much food they aren’t used to. After I can’t hold another delicate nibble, I excuse myself to my room. I’m going to explore the castle. Maybe there’s someone else my age to play with. I wander down the endless hallways for what seems like forever. I’m going back to my room. This is so boring. Hey! Who’s that? It’s a girl! A princess, I’m guessing, by the fancy tiara studded with diamonds.
“Hello. I’m Princess Ellowyn Aspen from the kingdom of Calais. I have just arrived
at this wonderful palace. And who may you be?” I ask, struggling to keep my words steady. Finally, someone my age! A girl, too! But my hopes fall slightly when she looks at me snidely.
“I may be a disgusting nincompoop like you. But I am Ingrid Florian. That’s Princess to you.” Is everyone in the palace snobby? I’m already hating this.
“Would you like to go to the top of the clocktower with me?” I make one last attempt at befriending her.
“Certainly not. I only go with people of my class”, she snips arrogantly. Aggh! Okay, I’m giving it to her.
“I’m quite sorry to hear that you are a class below me. Do you know where to find someone of my level?” I ask innocently and watch her face turn several shades of red and purple. It’s hard to resist the urge to grin, but I suppress it and walk away calmly. I’m probably going to pay for that remark later, but it was nice while it lasted.
I head back to my tree and climb to the top-just in time to see Snow-White and Irene arrive at the castle. Uh-oh. I haven’t really decided on a strategy to foil her evil plans. So, um… what do I do? I think for a few minutes, and then you can practically see the lightbulb above my head. I’ll have to befriend Snow-White and trick her into telling me the details of her plan. I have to act snobby and mean and dumb, but hey, it’s worth it to save the kingdom.
The Darkest Shadow Page 2