Chapter Two is here! Enjoy, and thanks for following this story! :) ~Katy/DisneyPrincess55
Two
Nobody ever imagined I was the kind of girl who would break away from the castle to see some boy I had met at my birthday party just last night. I had always overheard the servants speaking of how dangerous it would be, for a girl to run off with some boy she was supposedly in love with… but I didn't care. I wanted to get to know Prince Ross just a little more. So, I swung my white fur cloak over my head and snuck off my balcony, heading towards the lake, praying nobody saw me running across the field.
"Princess Iridessa," I turned at the sound of Ross' voice and smiled. He looked just as handsome as the night before, blonde hair combed neatly to the left, brown eyes twinkling in the late-afternoon sunlight. I could've stared at him forever and never lost interest.
"Good evening, Prince Ross," I tried not to smile as I acknowledged him, as it wasn't the most polite thing to do, smile while greeting a person. There were a hundred things I wanted—needed to ask him, but not one reached my tongue. He circled me but I stood still, not knowing what to do or where to move.
"You look lovely, Princess," he nodded, "Your first day as a seventeen-year-old must have treated you well, I presume?"
"Yes, it treated me well, thank you…" There was an edge to my voice and he caught it.
"It does not sound as if you had a pleasant day today. Are you lying to me, Princess, when you say that you had a enjoyable day as a seventeen-year-old?"
"No, I would never lie to you," I hadn't wanted to admit it that way, but that was what reached him, and I thought I saw a smile flicker across his face.
"You—you wouldn't?"
"Never."
"And why is that?"
"Because… I—I just refuse to lie… to anyone. Everyone. I am not a liar."
"I would never lie to you, Iridessa, for an entirely different reason," he stopped circling me and looked right into my eyes, "I believe I am in love with you, Princess. After last night I could not thinking about you. My sister believed I had fallen ill—when really I had just fallen for you. Not ill, just…"
"In love," I finished his sentence with a smile. "I feel the same way, Ross," I grinned, "All day I was awaiting sunset so I could see you again. Nothing amused me today, not even my little brother, for I was not paying attention to anyone, just thinking about what would happen when I went to meet you. I was worried—but I'm not. Not anymore." He moved in to kiss me as I finished talking—I had never kissed anyone before, and this was the perfect first kiss.
"Now, Princess Iridessa," he murmured moments after our kiss broke, "Do you mind if I call you Dess?" I smiled a shy, questioning smile to him.
"I suppose," I shook my head, confused, "No one has ever given me a nickname."
"I presumed it was time for a change," he leaned in to kiss me again, and this kiss was longer than the last by just a few moments, though I was not counting. There were a million things I wanted to talk to him about, and a limited time—my parents would be expecting me back soon, and if I wasn't home in time, my mother would worry.
"I should go," I whispered after the kiss.
"But you've only just arrived," he said sadly, "You mustn't go, Dess."
"I must," I sighed, "But I don't want to…"
"Then stay."
"My parents… my mother… she'll begin to worry if I am not back soon. I'm sorry, I must go." He grabbed my hand as I walked away, which pulled me back to him. He kissed me again and tucked my hair behind my ear.
"When can I see you again?" He whispered so quietly I could hardly hear him.
"Tomorrow. I'll be back tomorrow." I touched his cheek before I ran off, across the meadow, back home. The castle seemed dark and cold when I snuck in, the candles in the hallway leading to my room had been put out. I snuck into my room, put my cloak in my wardrobe and hurried down the staircase to the sitting room, where my mother was sitting with James, reading him a story. She always insisted she read to us, instead of a servant, never telling us why. I slowed as I approached the door and walked into the dimly lit room.
"Iridessa!" My mother stood, and I was just as surprised as she was. "Where on earth have you been? I've been searching everywhere for you, and Ruth has been worried sick. What—" she noticed my cheeks, flushed from the autumn air outside, "You must be cold. Come, sit by the fire. You can explain it all there." She led me to the fireplace and sat me on a cushioned stool. She sat adjacent to me, on the sofa, and waited expectantly for me to talk. The entire run back from meeting Ross I had been thinking of reasons for my disappearance, and my best idea came to mind as I stared back at her.
"I was warm," I said slowly, "Too warm. I decided I should go outside, for a breath of fresh air, to cool off. It was too cold, but I didn't want to go back inside. So I stayed outside and watched the sun go down. When it disappeared, I wished to explore a little, which was foolish, I'm sorry, Mother, because I ripped my skirt, just a little bit, though, but nonetheless it's ripped…" I lifted the royal blue fabric and showed her the tiny tear in my favorite skirt, with a very convincing frown. I had actually ripped the skirt on purpose, trying to make it look like I actually had been exploring.
"Oh, well it's not that bad of a rip, dear, I'm sure Ruth could fix it and you'd never be able to tell." She paused and looked at me. "This isn't like you, Iridessa, to go outside on a cold November day just because you're warm. I wasn't as foolish as you are when I was seventeen."
"I've only been seventeen for a day, Mother, you can't expect me to get everything right on the first try, can you?"
"No, I suppose not. Now go change out of your dress and take your skirt to Ruth. Good night, Iridessa."
"Good night, Mother. Good night, James." I curtseyed before hurrying up to my room and changing into my autumn nightgown, made of purple fabric. I picked up my skirt and carried it down to Ruth's room—Ruth was my fifteen-year-old servant, and one of the sweetest people in the castle. She had pretty, curly brown hair, hazel eyes and fair skin. She was gentle and I had never heard her yell in my entire life. "Ruth?" I called, opening the wooden door. She looked up at me from where she was sitting by the fire, startled.
"Oh, Princess! What are you doing down here? It's improper for a Princess—or any royalty— to approach the servant's quarters."
"I'm aware of that, Ruth, but I don't mind. I like knowing my home, and it's foolish to have the servants do everything for me, when I'm perfectly capable of carrying my skirt down to their quarters. Here, I ripped it, just a tiny little tear."
"What did you do?" She asked, running her dainty fingers across the tear, "How did this happen?"
"I—" I hesitated, pondering whether or not I could trust her with the truth. "I just went for a walk, Ruth. It's no big deal, really." She nodded.
"Yes, of course. A walk. I'll take care of this, Princess. Good evening." She shooed me from her room with a curtsey and I went back to my room, stopping in my tracks when I saw another servant—Father's servant, Jonah—in my room.
"Jonah? What are you doing in my room?" I approached him and he turned, flushing when he saw I was in my nightgown.
"Princess, the King Elijah has called for your presence in the throne room immediately."
"Immediately? Why does he call on me at this hour?"
"It is important, Princess. He has called on your presence and you must follow his orders." I gave Jonah an irritated look before following him to the throne room, where my father sat in his throne. He stood and beamed when I walked in, ignoring my dress.
"Iridessa," he grinned when I walked in, "You look well. Come, darling, sit. I have important, very joyous news for you." He gestured for my throne but I refused to sit.
"What is the news, Father?" I asked, voice unfaltering from its solid tone.
"King Stellan of Malgoria has asked for your hand in marriage. He asked for it last night at your birthday celebration, and I have just accepted it. You are to be wed next month, on Christmas Eve!" I stared at him, not believing a word he said. My thirteenth suitor, and he was actually making me marry him…
"Where is King Stellan of Malgoria?" I asked in the same tone as earlier, "I wish to meet him, Father, before you make any more plans. I insist on it, and I refuse to be married to him until I meet him."
"I am here, Princess Iridessa," said a man from the doorway. I turned to him and suddenly I felt as if everyone was throwing swords at me. He was old—perhaps Mother's age. This had to be a joke, I couldn't marry a man who could be Mother's older brother.
"You are King Stellan," I acknowledged him before turning back to Father. "I refuse to speak of this at this time. Good night, Father." I stormed out of the throne room, past King Stellan, my fiancé I hadn't asked for. I didn't want to have another suitor—I wanted Ross. I ran up to my room and threw myself down on my bed, grabbing a pillow and throwing it across the room. Ruth walked in as the pillow flew past her and she closed her eyes.
"Your father has found another suitor," she said knowingly, walking towards my bed with the coal pan.
"He has," I said through tears, "But he's not just a suitor, Ruth. I'm engaged to him, and we're to be married on Christmas Eve…"
"Who is your suitor?" She asked simply, nearing my bed.
"King Stellan of Malgoria," I sobbed, "He's Mother's age—" she dropped the coal pan and looked at me.
"I'm so sorry, Princess, I didn't mean—"
"No, it's all right, Ruth, don't worry about it. I'm warm. I don't need it tonight."
"I insist, Princess. King Stellan, you say? He—he was my former master," she said quietly.
"He used to own you?" I slid to the edge of my bed, closer to Ruth, who was picking up the coals with a thick cloth, "What was he like?"
"His wife controlled the servants most of my time there, so I never saw very much of him," she shrugged.
"Wife?"
"Yes, Queen Catherine. She was younger than him, I believe, by several years, and I presume she died not to long ago, of scarlet fever, possibly."
"Did they have any children?"
"I do not think Catherine could have children, so no, Princess."
"I don't want to marry him," I said simply, climbing under the covers on my bed.
"Yes, but I do not believe it's your choice, Princess, it's your father's, and the decision has already been made." I looked at her blankly, and she smiled at me sweetly. "I'm sorry."
The next morning I dressed myself and walked into the throne room fiercely. My father was sitting there, talking to King Stellan. I approached the two men , not making eye contact with Stellan, and glared at my father.
"I don't care what anyone says," I snarled, "I am not marrying King Stellan."
