Chrysanthe – Princess of Crete
Summary – Chrysanthe is the beautiful, arrogant princess of Crete. Then one day she gats a very special visit from one Zeus. That in itself bodes trouble. But what happens when she makes it back to Olympus? Hera hates her; everyone else couldn't really care less. But nobody likes arrogance, especially not in mortals. So what do you end up with? Why a huge game of Everyone versus Chrysanthe of course!
Disclaimer – The Greeks own them all as far as I'm aware. Except from Chrysanthe and Euphemia who I think I made up. If they bear any resemblance to some copyrighted character or any other Greek goddess or princess or whatever, it was unintentional and I apologise now.
Chapter 1 – Chrysanthe, Princess of Crete
"I don't care! You just ruined my life!" The slave girl jumped back from the young woman whose hair she was styling as though she'd been punched in the face.
"I can fix it, my lady; one moment, just sit still…"
"You can't fix it! You can't do anything! You're USELESS! The woman leapt up from her chair pulling all the grips from her hair as she stalked across the room. She flung herself on a couch and threw all the tiny metal slides at the younger girl still cowering by the dressing table with such vehemence they left raised, red marks where they hit, as though they were lashes from a whip.
"Please Chrysanthe, please!" the girl was pleading now.
The princess glowered at her. Ugh, how utterly nauseating.
"Just get out of my sight and never come back! Next time I'll get someone competent to do my hair." The girl scurried out, terrified.
Chrysanthe twirled a piece of jet black hair round one of her long, pale fingers. Stupid girl, dropping curls all over the place. Can't anyone round here do their job!? She kicked her shoes off, enjoying seeing one hit the door with a resounding crack…
… just as it opened. A tall, blonde girl wandered lazily in and stared in frustration at Chrysanthe.
"Chryse! Honestly! Why aren't you ready? This is the fifth time in a week you realise?"
"Well, the stupid girl was ruining my hair, I can't go out now, can I Euphemia," retorted Chrysanthe, "I swear, nobody on this entire island can do my hair properly."
Euphemia sighed. Do it yourself then. But it wasn't worth arguing. For the fifth time.
"Fine. I'll go on my own then, but you'll regret it later when you're bored stiff here and you think of me in town having the time of my life."
Chrysanthe almost snorted, "Nobody could have the time of their life on this mangy island. It's pathetic. Nothing to do, incompetent workers and no good looking men. What a waste of beauty like mine." She collapsed backwards until her head touched the arm of the couch and arranged her hair so it fanned out around her. She laid a hand on her alabaster forehead and tried to look as much like the tragic heroines of the old myths as she could.
Euphemia gritted her teeth. You arrogant, conceited, bragging, little bitch. Just because you're the princess of Crete doesn't mean anyone actually likes you, you know. Maybe if you tried being nice to people, but no, like that's going to happen!
But she didn't say it, she never did. "Yes, Chryse darling, how stunningly beautiful you are," was all she said, smiling forcedly as she backed out of the room and slammed the door behind her, before beginning to run, wanting as much distance between her and her "best friend" – more like I'm her personal slave, only good for being moaned to and to inflate her already gigantic ego – as possible.
A/N – Sorry this is only really short. Next chappies will be longer, promise. Thoughts are in italics. R&R please, it only takes an extra 10 seconds or so to hit that little purpley-blue box and leave a review.