A/N: This will be my first full length story and I would appreciate if you would let me know how it is so far! Thanks!
Layla grunted while her maids tightened the strings of her corset. Or as she liked to put it: the harrowing torture device.
She sighed, "Must it be so tight!"
"I'm sorry, mademoiselle, but your aunt, Madame Catherine, requests it." Said Madeleine, her maid.
Layla de Chanel of the French province, Artois is a beautiful maiden of nineteen. She has a headful of curly raven colored hair with jet black eyes that contrast against her pale skin. She wears a skirt of navy blue with a few petticoats underneath, a matching front tie corset, and a white, long-sleeved shirt.
Layla adjusted the skin tight device and felt years of concealed anger coming up to the surface, "I don't give a-" She then realized what she was doing and composed herself back to the graceful, well-mannered girl everyone expected. "Hint of anger towards my dearest auntie Catherine."
"Layla, darling!" Called Annemarie, the cook, "Your breakfast is ready and getting cold!"
"Yes, Madame Chef!" She called back and quickly made her way down to the dining room, navigating the extensive halls of the Chanel manor.
Once in the dining room, she took her place at her father's left hand side of the table. Isabel and Coraline, her little sisters, sat next to her. Her brothers and cousins, Alexandre, John, Antoine, and Emile, were all sitting in front of her.
Isabel is a fifteen year old with strawberry blonde hair and laurel green eyes. She loves dancing, singing, and painting landscapes on her walls even though it makes her aunt Catherine livid. Coraline is eleven years old with dark auburn hair, and a fiery temper of which she is scolded for, time and time again.
Alexandre and John are Layla's brothers. Alexandre is twenty one with dark titan hair and hazel eyes, while John, Layla's twin, has light blonde hair and blue eyes. Her cousins, Antoine and Emile, both have light blonde hair, turquoise eyes and are completely evil and wicked and positively atrocious. Or, at least in her opinion.
As they were served, tension and anxiety built up inside the pale girl's body. It was all because of one question. The question that had been dancing the tip of her to tongue for nearly a month now, and she promised herself today would be the day that she finally said what she wanted to literally scream out for what felt like an eternity.
"Papa," She took a deep breath, "I want to go to Paris."
As the words finally came out of the dark-eyed girl's mouth, a familiar amount of gasps came out of the rest of the people in and around the room. It happened every time she had an improper idea that her father and such didn't like.
"Why, ma chéri?" Asked her dumbfounded father.
She had expected this. "Because, papa, I want to see the beautiful city to the south. I want to see the province of all provinces. And, I want to meet King Louis. Please papa."
Her father sighed, "Why must you be so eccentric?" He rubbed his temple and thought about it for a moment, "No, Layla."
"But papa-"
"Layla!" He cut her off getting angrier second-by-second. "This is not a subject I am willing to negotiate on! You are not going to Paris. Ever!"
Layla was nearly ready to burst into a sobbing mess. She knew that her father would not embrace the idea of her leaving, but seeing him yell at her made her want to cry more than being forbidden to go to the one place she wanted to go to the most.
She looked around. She saw Isabel and Coraline on the brink of tears, while Alexandre and John were staring at the quarrelling pair with wide eyes. Antoine and Emile just wore evil smirks which just happened to oddly complement each other's perfect complexion. She was not going to lose this argument.
"Yes…. I am." She whispered softly.
She said it so softly, it was nearly intelligible in the middle-aged man's ears, "What? Layla, stop speaking so softly! You know how I feel about the mumbling!" He enraged.
Her temper rose also, "I said, 'Yes…..I…..am." She spoke, making sure to emphasize the words she wanted, to make sure he understood completely.
Her father pounded his fist on the table and bolted up from his chair, "What?"
She felt afraid, but excited at the same time seeing her father's temper rise. She didn't know why, but she felt an odd feeling bliss just making someone mad. She didn't know if that was good, or bad, but she honestly didn't care. Not one bit.
"You heard me!" She yelled.
Her father finally had enough and sent her to her room.
"Gladly." She said simply and walked off, making her way through the extensive halls of the manor.
When Layla had gone, Layla's father simply sat in his chair sighing at the way everything had just went. He felt horrible, but at the same time relieved with his decision of not letting her go to Paris alone. He was torn with himself.
He sighed. "There's just not something right about that girl." He thought, "Whether she's emotionally distressed, or even mentally insane, I have no idea. Whatever it is, it's not good."
Layla paced around her room. "Father thinks that I'm crazy." She laughed, "No, I'm not. I'm a genius. None of those things I said were true and he knows it. I don't care about the King of France. Not a bit. I just want to be one of the amazing musketeers. Now that the wall has broken down thanks to those other girls, I've actually got a shot."
The girl took off her corset, white shirt, chemise, skirt, stockings, and petticoats until she was down to her plain camisole and white drawers. She ransacked her armoire until she found a fresh white shirt, a white chemise, black fitted riding trousers, corset, boots, and white stockings. She scrambled into the attire and headed towards the kitchen.
Once there, she looked at the chef. "Madame Chef, I need two days' worth of biscuits and water."
The older woman looked confused, "Why would you need such a thing, miss?"
Layla looked annoyed, "Do not question my actions." She snapped. "You forget you are working for me!"
The cook now got angry. "No, I work for your father, not you, so you cannot fire me without his consent."
Layla scoffed, "Just get me what I asked for and I'll leave." She said and the cook obeyed. Twenty four biscuits, and four mason jars of water.
Layla left the kitchen, went back to her room and grabbed a leather bag. She put a sack of a hundred crown pieces inside of it and the food and water. She headed out towards the stable and she found her horse, Philippe, saddled up, and next to him are Isabel and Coraline.
"Izzy, Cor! What are you doing here?" she asked excitedly.
They both smiled, "Coming to see you off!" They said in unison.
Layla was about to cry. She enveloped her sisters into a big group hug. "I'll miss you." She whispered, tears streaming down her pale face.
"Us too." Isabel said.
"We'll write to you all the time!" Coraline exclaimed.
Layla smiled, "As will I." She broke out of the hug and climbed on her horse.
Layla reared up and bolted out of the stable, leaving a trail of dust behind. As she rode, she remembered all of the great memories she has had at the old manor. The snowball fights, hide-and-go-seek, antique toys. She was going to miss the place, but she knew that Paris would have new opportunities for her to pursue.
"Goodbye, Artois, hello, Paris!" She smiled and pushed ahead leaving the old manor behind.
A/N: Like? Don't like? Please review! Thank you so much for reading!
P.S: Corinne and the others will be in this story!