Princess EmiliaMalinda, one of the maids, cleans basically out from under me.
"Sorry, Princess!" She scurries away, dusting and sweeping. I giggle and walk down the halls. The servants' quarters are dimly lit and quite musty, but I enjoy being here. I have made friends with some of the maids. Some are young, like me. Some are even 15, my age. I don't have many friends that Mother and Father approve of, but that's not my fault. I do not control the royals. Or even the high-class girls. They are all snobby and quite rude.
"Good evening, Princess." Tanya, the youngest maid says when I walk into the sewing room.
"Hello, Tanya. What are you doing?" I look at the fabric between her knees.
"I am just sewing a scarf, Princess." She says quietly. I feel bad, making these people feel nervous. I wish that the people of Gesta didn't feel scared around me. I am as nice as I can be, and I love them all deeply.
"It is lovely." I smile. She smiles back, glad to have my approval. I hear footsteps behind me.
"Princess, your mother would like to see you." A plump woman named Gena says.
"Thank you." I pat her shoulder and hurry out the door. It leads to the garden, my favorite part of the entire castle. I run along the stones and flowers, and see my mother relaxing by a large tree.
"Hello, dear." Mother says as I approach her.
"Mother." I say, standing beside her. She turns and faces me.
"You are beautiful, Emilia." She rests her hands on my shoulders.
"Emily, please Mother." I say, annoyed by the fact that she still calls me Emilia.
"Yes, of course." She pauses, leaning her head to the side. She looks tired, her wrinkles apparent. She has been under a lot of stress, that's what she tells me. "Darling, do not blow up when I say this."
I arch my eyebrow, showing that she should go on.
"Mother!" I say, loudly. "I want to fall in love on my own time!" I hate when Mother meddles in my love life, not that I have one.
"Doll, you're 15 years old! You haven't met anyone yet!"
"Mother, I am ONLY 15 years old! I'm not an old hag!"
"You don't understand!" Mother says, defensively.
"Oh, but I do! You want to control this aspect of my life, like everything else!" I say, and turn away. I walk back up to the palace. I do not talk to anyone as I make my way to my bedroom. When I make it there, I slam my door. I throw myself onto my bed and let out an angry scream into the pillow.
How could she try and control the one thing I have left? She basically controls when I breathe, blink, eat, where I go, when I go, and to whom I will talk to when I go anywhere!
I cannot stand my mother sometimes, as terrible as it sounds. I lift myself up and see a letter on my nightstand. I pick it up, and it's in a crisp envelope. I rip the envelope and read the letter.
"Dearest Princess Emilia Grace Williams of Gesta,
We are happy to inform you that you have been accepted to the Princess Academy. In this fine school, you learn how to be a better princess. You have a chance to meet the love of your life from our neighboring school, Prince Prep. You will need the following things for your stay at this boarding school in London:
Multiple ballgowns. (Any color. This should be at least 12)
Multiple regular everyday dresses. (Any color. This should be at least 30.)
Nightgowns. (Any color.)
Heels. (Any type. No smaller than 5 inches.)
We hope you will accept this school and attend in 1 month!
I let out a happy sigh.