A/N: Alright, I know, another story??? But hey, the Glass Rose is getting very tiring and I don't feel working on Step-sister until I get either more ideas or more encouragement. So here ya go! I hope you enjoy, and please do review!
Of the two of us, I was never noticed. She was tall and elegant, and I was short and awkward. She was what people defined as "radiantly beautiful", and I was at most pretty. She was a people pleaser and the heir to a great throne, and I was a bargain to some power hungry prince. Or at least I was almost certain he was power hungry, after all most princes are. But then again we had never met.
I didn't care, though, because I hated being a princess and thought the whole thing was rather ridiculous and trivial. After all, who cares if I marry a prince? Who cares if I marry at all? I certainly didn't. But my dear sister was obsessed with the idea.
So it was no surprise to me when Marina (Yes, that was her name after her sea-blue eyes) came skipping up to me, her golden locks bouncing with inhuman zeal. "Oh, dear sister, you must hear what Father has planned for us- well, me!"
I sighed and set down my book, Yep, guilty as charge, I loved to read. "What is, Mary?"
She rolled her eyes (Marina hated when I called her that), but then quickly her mood repelled back to its former giddy state. "Oh, Karina, it's a ball! Isn't it wonderful?"
Oh, dear Lord, no.
She sang some really high note and bounced off, practically swimming with delight.
A ball.
Someone, please kill me.
If there is anything I'm known for, it's my hate for balls. I love to dance, and of the two of us, I'd have to say I'm the better singer (Marina is very good, but her voice is more smooth and deep, like the ocean, whereas mine is very clear and animated). But no one cared about singing or dancing. All they liked was talking, and giggling, and socializing, and acting obscene and ridiculous; all of which I loathed and Marina adored.
Well if this ball is going to be for her, then I'll take absolutely no part in it. After all, no one will miss me, I hold no relevance in this occasion, and I just detest balls.
I set my book back down on the bench and found my way out of the gardens and pulled open the door, which lead to the servant's quarters. After all, perhaps Lance had some good advice for me this time. He never did, though.
Today was another one of those occasions.
"So, it's a ball. That means there'll be food," Lance said setting down a breakfast tray that had been made for my younger sister, Celeste. Everyone in the family, excluding me, had to have their breakfast served in bed. How spoiled. I preferred to make it myself.
"Yes, Lance, a ball! You know how I hate balls!" I sighed and put my hands on my hips.
He shrugged, cleaning one of the china cups. Lance was very handsome, quite unusually handsome for a servant. However, though at times he made a few humorous comments, he was exceptionally simple in his thinking, which would never do for me.
I took a deep breath and turned around, venturing out of the hallway and back into the main palace corridors. Why do I even bother to ask Lance? Perhaps, I'm just trying to be a good friend and tell him what's on my mind.
Some friend he is, pah!
I ran up the staircase, which led to Father's study. He's almost always there, working on some law or commoner's problem. He's never complains. He's such a wonderful king, I think.
He was there (of course) and I took the opportunity to ask him.
"What?!" He said mortified, taking off his reading spectacles and looking at me with those fierce grey-blue eyes.
"Oh, Father, please? You know I hate these things!"
"And you think I like them any better?" He demanded, scowling.
"Well, no, but-,"
"Karina, you are the princess. Can you not understand that? That means you attend meaningless social gatherings, make long and boring speeches, and work your brains out to serve your people. No one said this was a fairy-tale. Perhaps you should get your head out of those silly books and help around here once in a while."
"Well, she certainly doesn't do anything."
"Marina, you mean? Well, she's more fragile than you are." Excuses, excuses! We're twins and I'm just as fragile as she is! Just not as pretty.
I exhaled deeply, "Then I shall sulk in the corner until someone begs you to make me go."
He snorted and put his spectacles back on, shifting his gaze back to his work, "I don't think so Karina. Just smile and try to act friendly. You do know how to act friendly, don't you?"
I glared and left the room. A ball. A horrible, wretched, ridiculous, repulsive ball. Why is it so important that I'm there? Everyone knows I do absolutely nothing and just look miserable. I can't even bring a book! I love Father, but I just can't see anything the way he does. We're too different, yet I suppose too similar in some ways.
I went back to the garden, because well, I liked it there. I've always had a soft spot for roses and flowers. They're just so pretty.
Everyone tells me that I'm like a flower, and one day I'm going to bloom like Marina. Ha! I don't need someone to relay false compliments to me. After all my hair is just a plain, curly red, unlike Marina's bountiful curls of a variety of other colors, blended with that vibrant, pure gold. My features are all very petite, though Marina's are perfect. And even though my eyes are unusual, her blend of blue, green, and aqua still manage to outshine mine. After all, my are just one color, lavender (though I suppose there's little gold thrown in at the pupil.
Being Marina's sister means that everywhere you go, you are never noticed. Whatever you do, she does better, and if you do happen to do something better, it's ignored. You are one great shadow.
Well, I'm not a shadow kind of person. I'm just not obsessed with entertaining obnoxious and unintelligent people. But that never matters to other people.
I suppose I'm not a rebel, either. I obey laws and enjoy peace. However Marina is just disgustingly pious. She is always astonished that anyone could ever break any rule, no matter how small and insignificant. She always acts so angelic all of the time, and it's really quite irritating. I often wonder if its sincere, but I know it is. But then again, maybe I'm just cynical
Cynical, now there's a good word for me. I'm very critical and I'm always determined to prove things to be exactly what they are or what they should be. If someone is very bad at writing or acting or something of the like I make sure that my opinion is voiced. Of course, no one ever cared about what I thought, because, well, simply I wasn't Marina. Cabbages, I hate that girl. Well, I don't hate her, but…
I sighed and set the book down. I wasn't really into it anymore; this news was disturbing enough. I mean, what sensible person just wants to make a complete fool of themselves and laugh hysterically at jokes that aren't funny, and then dance around trying to do some stupid trick or twirl to make everyone laugh again?
Maybe you're just over-reacting, a voice in my head told me. Maybe this ball really will be different. You might find someone wonderful at the ball. After all, this may be the only ball that someone is permitted to go to, or someone can find time to go to. Like Cinderella, except you're Princess Charming.
Really, now, what kind of wonderful person would come to such a far-fetched and outlandish event? But I suppose my subconscious did have a point. I always did like that story and my subconscious was always pressuring me to do "for-your-own-good" type of things. What else are they for, anyway?
Well, maybe it wouldn't be so terrible.
Who am I kidding? It's always terrible, and this time it will be exactly the same. Except, now it will be worse since you're going to have to entertain Marina's fiancé's whole family.
Won't that be lovely.
Marina had gotten her wished fulfilled last year, when Father arranged her marriage to Prince Reston, the heir to an equally great and wealthy nation, and also an immensely popular and handsome icon of the western civilization. I was always sneering at her from the distance. Wouldn't it be fitting? Handsome prince and beautiful princess run off and live a wonderfully grand life until he gets sick of her and hires someone to murder her.
I shook the thought from my mind. I didn't want that to happen to her. After all, I loved Marina, even if she was a pest. And no one had ever met this prince fellow, just heard about him. He could turn out to be really nice. Of course, he'll be smitten by her the moment they meet. Just like in fairy tales.
I growled. Not my fairy-tales. Besides, there's nothing that phenomenal about them marrying. Something new would have to happen, something different. And we all know that in this kingdom everything stays the same.
That's why I hate living here.
"Kari," someone said tugging at my hair, which was currently tied into one long braid. I looked down to find Celeste, peering up at me, with our mother's soft green eyes. Her chestnut hair tumbled down her shoulders, making her look ravishing, even for an eight year old. "Kari, read me a story."
I smiled at her. Celeste was the only one who shared my love of stories and storytelling. She was just too young to understand the feelings behind them.
I stood up and picked up my book, before proceeding to grasp her hand. Celeste always reminded me of our dear, dead mother. She had died just three years after Celeste's birth from snakebite at a picnic. My other sister, Elizabeth, who had been nine at the time, had been with Mother and always blamed herself for the tragedy. I've always felt a certain obligation to her wellbeing and confidence, because it was shattered that day. Even though we all know perfectly well she's being over-dramatic and martyrly, we all (all five of all) strive to treat her with a certain compassion and gentleness.
We made our way through the corridors and into the library, a favorite location of mine, along with the music room. Rosalind and Bella were playing a vigorous game of hide and seek when we entered. Rosalind, being the older immediately found Bella under the couch.
"Ah, ha!" She screamed. "I've won!"
"No fair," Bella shrieked, always ready to believe someone else was wrong.
I chucked and made my way over by them to sit down and crack open the book of fairy tales, which I religiously kept on the candle stand next to the couch.
"Are you going to read a story, Kari?" Asked Rosalind.
I said I would and she gave a great smile. Rosalind (or Rose as I preferred to call her) was never too old to have a story read to her, even at twelve. However she preferred the creak to the indoors, so it was not often that I got the chance to read to her.
I sat down and all four of the girls crowded about me.
"What will you read to us this time?" Said Bella, chewing delicately on her fingernails.
"Hmm," I looked through the list of stories at the index page. One in particular caught my attention, "How about The Little Mermaid?"
The girls stared blankly.
"Haven't I ever read The Little Mermaid to you?"
They shook their head.
I thought everyone knew the story. I shrugged and flipped to the page. I didn't mind reading it again; after all it was one of my favorite tales.
"The Little Mermaid," I announced solemnly, stating loud and clear that here was a story of untold treasures, which they would forever have the pleasure of knowing.
Now normally I just read straight from the book, save a few interjections and the very dramatic prose I was known for, but I had always loathed the end of the story, and since I was telling them it for the first time I decided to make up my own version of the end. They'd be mad if they found out it was the true conclusion, but they wouldn't bother to read it themselves, since none of them was interested.
I began to spin the tale as I relayed her former life of loneliness and emptiness, making it as vivid and sad as possible. In this tale no one believed her when she said the humans weren't as bad as the merfolk thought, and her Father was never inclined to listen to her "bizarre theories", Of course in the version I was now holding there was none of that, just a few minor paragraphs, but I decided to make this experience better than the rest.
I continued, looking up often to see if their faces were rapturous or not. I was surprised to find that they were. Delighted, I dived back into the story, filling them with wonderful descriptions of the Prince and the ship, shocking them with its devastation and thrilling them with the mermaid's passion for him.
Perhaps I should write my own version of the story. Then I wouldn't have to make up so much as I read it. I archived the idea in my brain and continued.
At this point I was too busy to look up as we neared the section of the sea-witch and her vile doings. I packed in my descriptions of her ghastly apparel and the mermaid's terror at the surrounding, molded with the impending doom of her irreversible decision.
A door creaked from behind, but I was too rapt to notice. I continued on and finally reached the part where the story became my own. I began to add my own humorous situations and was rewarded with laughter.
On I told, my jaw beginning to ache. It didn't matter, I had to finish the tale, and my sisters were all exceptional listeners. At least I hoped they were.
They began to laugh s I neared the end, though the humor had ceased. Father was probably making faces at me, which he sometimes did when he was finished with his work and everyone was gathered around. My brow creased and I set out determined to make finish with an end to satisfy his jesting. I weaved on and on, finally with the conclusion that the prince had realized the other princess was a fraud and the mermaid regaining her voice in time to explain to the prince her mistaken identity.
"And when the King saw the purity of the love his daughter and the human prince shared he finally stepped aside and allowed their wedding to commence." I peeked up from the book to steal a glance at Father's face. Of course, by now everyone was in an outburst. However when I looked up I did not see Father.
Instead I saw a handsome man sitting amongst my sisters, making wild faces and ridiculous kissing motions.
I did the unintelligent thing and screamed.