Disclaimer: I don't own the concept of fairytales.
Claimer: But I do own this story.
Chapter 1: Well. Don't I just feel loved
I run after my brother, laughing hard.
"Get back here you twit!" I shout, as he laughs wildly. I am catching up to him… just a little bit closer…
"Jasmine."
I skid to a halt as the butler steps out in front of me.
"His majesty, the king, and her majesty, wish to speak with you."
"Yes. I will be along shortly." I speak impatiently. Dave walks closer. As the butler leaves, he turns to me.
"They want to speak to you? What have you done this time?"
I look at him.
"You know what? I really don't know!"
He frowns, concerned.
"You had better get along then… who knows how bad the punishment will be."
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"Mother… Father… You wished to see me?" I ask, adopting their formal tone.
"Jasmine… draw closer." Father does not even bother to get off his chair. I walk cautiously closer. "Don't look so wary, we're not angry with you."
"That's a first." I say sarcastically. Whoops, did I say that aloud? Father and Mother exchange glances, but do not say anything.
"That's better." Father says, looking at me. "We just wanted to…talk to you."
"Okay… let's talk." I say in a mock-cheerful voice. "What about?" Father and Mother never wish to see me without a reason.
Mother nods to a maid standing to the side. The maid reaches in a chest, and pulls out a mirror. Mother takes it, nodding regally.
"Thank you!" I pipe up, grinning at the maid. She smiles, but says nothing.
"That's enough, dear." Mother bites her lip. She holds the mirror out to me. "Jasmine, look in here."
I look at the mirror. It is very beautiful – silver with jewels set in it – but I don't understand what Mother wants me to see.
"In it, not at it!" Father snaps. Ah, right… in it…
I look in it.
"What do you see?"
"I see me." What sort of question was that to begin with?
"Really?" Mother says, rather amusedly. "I don't."
Um… okay?
I look again. Maybe there's something special I'm meant to see. But all I can see is a girl with long dark blond hair and pale blue eyes. Me. Right?
"I see… a princess." Mother says, quietly. "A princess with a duty to her country." Okay… so I see you're giving me the whole 'you have a duty' speech… but why the mirror?
"I see a beautiful princess." I instinctively look over my shoulder to see if my older sister has entered the room. Nope, no one.
"I'm talking about you." Mother says, slightly irritated. Me? I am not beautiful. That has always been my sister's job. Melissa is fair and blonde and tall. She doesn't run, nor ride. She does not have a tan and she has Mother's piercing green eyes. I cannot help myself. I cough, I splutter. Mother and Father look at me.
"Haha… that was a joke right?"
"No." That shuts me up nicely.
"Er… so… I hate to be blunt…" But bluntness is coming anyway… "But where exactly are you going with this?"
Mother grimaces.
"If you'll just let me finish… dear." Suddenly the word 'dear' sounds so much more menacing on Mother dear's ruby red lips.
"Okay… okay…" I hold up my hands peaceably. Mother stands up – possibly for dramatic effect.
"You are a princess and you have a duty to your country. As you are not Crown Princess you have to work harder to fulfil that duty. Nevertheless, we have decided to help you."
Uh-oh… this sounds ominous…
"H…help me?"
"Yes. You see dear." Mother stands next to me. "We have arranged you to marry the Prince of Kilmere.
And that's when my world stops moving.
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"What? They can't marry you off!" Dave exclaims in indignation. "I mean… look at you!"
"I've had enough of looking at me, thanks Dave." I say dryly. "What exactly am I meant to be looking at?"
"Well… you're pretty! Heaps of guys will want to marry you…"
"I think that was kind of their point." I roll my eyes. "But I disagree with that statement, just for the record."
"And you're only sixteen!" He continues.
"I don't think it matters to them." In fact, it didn't.
"I'm only sixteen!" I exclaimed in shock. Mother and Father exchange glances."And your point being?" Father asks, finally contributing to this discussion.
"Let me handle this darling." Mother tells him. She turns back to me. "Dear, there is no better time. You, frankly, have never looked better, and I…I was your mother much upon these years."
"Actually, no. Scrap that. It doesn't matter a jolt to them." I grimace. "Look, they're going to marry me off to some rich, probably old, prince, whose main duty is to wait until his age old father dies! I mean, the King of Kilmere is old right?"
Dave winces and looks away.
"Nearing his one hundredth birthday. The Kilmere's have always taken the throne late."
"Argh!" I scream in frustration.
"I know you've had enough bad news for the day… but…"
"There's a but?"
"Yes… do you remember me telling you that Kilmereans can have more than one wife?"
"Yes…" I trail off. "No! Don't tell me –"
"The Crown Prince of Kilmere is married already."
Thanks Dave. Suddenly my life has just gotten a lot worse.
"Oh, so it's not bad enough that they're going to marry me off to some rich, DEFINITELY old prince… they want me to be his SECOND wife?"
"Seems like it." Dave looked away.
"Argh!" I bury my head in my pillow. "Anything else you want to tell me? That maybe he has two wives and I'm to be his third? Or maybe that he's nearly dead? Oh, how about this?" I brandish my copy of Jane Eyre in Dave's face. "Does he have a mad wife in the attic? How can I live with a guy with a mad wife in his attic? Do they expect me to? And what if –"
"Calm down. You don't know that yet." Dave looks at me worriedly.
"That's right…. I don't know that yet…" I murmur to myself. "He's worse than that, isn't he, Dave?"
"Shut up."
"Excuse me?"
"Shut up. You have to calm down. When you've calmed down, I'll come back and talk to you. We can even come up with a plan. But only when you've calmed down, okay?"
"Whatever."
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"I've calmed down." I say, walking up to my brother. He releases the bow and shoots the arrow. It flies way off target. I roll my eyes, and pick up a nearby bow, and string the arrow on. He turns to face me.
"Really? Good."
I don't answer for a second, while I release the bow. It hits one of the outer rings of the target. Dave glares at me, and strings another arrow on – our natural competitive instincts taking over.
"You said you'd come up with a plan." I remind him.
"No…" He says grimacing in concentration. The arrow flies as he releases it and lands closer to the target than mine. Dave smiles smugly at me, and the challenge in his eyes is evident. "I said we'd come up with a plan." My arrow lands just outside the centre.
"Okay, plan. I can either marry the prince or not marry the prince." His arrow lands next to mine. "Personally, I prefer not marrying the prince, but there are so many complications with that plan." I smile triumphantly as my arrow hits the centre. "Bullseye!" I declare.
"You win…" He grumbles. There's not a mean streak in Dave. Putting down the bow, we sit in the grass. "Look," says Dave tentatively. "I think that if you really don't want to marry the prince you should run away. I don't know how well that'll work, but it'll give you time, right?"
"I suppose…" Suddenly I am reluctant to leave this place that I know so well. Then an image of a old wrinkly man lifting my veil ripples across my visual cortex, and then I know I have made up my mind. "Okay, details, please."
- End of Chapter 1 -
A/N: I don't know if you liked that so review and tell me! I don't mind flames as long as you tell me what you didn't like about it and give me a chance to improve. Please? Virtual brownies for anyone who reviews!