Zoe watched the girls walk down the Great Stair one by one. Quintuplet girls, who knew, she thought as the last one descended the last step, and the crowd erupted into appreciative cheers and whistles. Zoe herself didn't clap - she truly didn't see the need to. If there had been one presentation ball she had attended, there had been a thousand, including her own, which occurred several months earlier. Although the most common times for such balls were around the various annual holidays and the warmer months, Zoe had insisted that hers be held in the dead of winter, and strictly not connected with the many Midwinter celebrations that would occur.
Zoe hadn't been picky about anything during her four years in the convent, and she thoroughly made up for it during the preparations for her presentation at court. It was not that she was truly interested in having "her" day be perfect, but it was something to entertain herself with. And entertain herself she did. On the day of her presentation at court, Zoe wore a snow white dress made with the finest materials, and by the best seamstresses, it would shame a wedding gown. The dress was sleeveless and free flowing - she had specifically requested no corset or bodice, only a white breast band that she would be able to wear under it. The neck was high cut, sitting right up against the base of her neck. Over the top portion of the dress, delicate white lace was attached, and embedded in the lace were pearls. The dress slipped down around her slim body and legs, the material lapping at her ankles like white silk waves. Her silvery blonde hair was curled softly and worn down, a crown of white rose buds and baby's breath upon her head. Diamonds sparked on her earlobes, and on the straps of her shoes. It was the first time in Zoe's life everyone could truly see this girl was a princess. In a strange sort of way, Zoe enjoyed acting like this - until her shoes gave her blisters and a look-over thorn pricked her in the scalp.
"At least the day fit the occasion." She said to herself as she was undressing late that night. Pausing before removing her gown, she walked to the window in her room, and surveyed the land before her, blanketed in pure silver-white flakes. The full moon reflected gently, making the whole scene magical. Zoe turned and grabbed the gauze shawl she had requested for the dress, wrapped it around her shoulders, and disappeared out of her room quietly. She reappeared minutes later outside, barefoot, spinning circles in the snow and screaming. She spun and screamed until she was too dizzy too stand on her now blue feet and her voice went hoarse, at which point she collapsed into the snow. She laid in the snow, breathing heavily and staring up at the full moon with eyes only a few shades darker than it.
Zoe lay there, in the snow and the almost freezing temperatures for the better part of an hour. Eventually she rose calmly and silently, heading back to her room. She changed, leaving her practically priceless dress in a lump on the floor, and fell asleep under a good number of dark colored blankets.
The fifth princess smirked, remembering her own presentation momentarily, and then looked back down to the beige coloured soup that had been served to her. Her mother, the queen, looked at her daughter sternly.
"Zoe, the cooks do not cook for the stray animals of Corus. Eat your soup, and please dear, do use the right spoon." Queen Irena reminded her for the third time that evening. Zoe sighed and sipped up the tasteless, congealing substance idly, her mind on how utterly *boring* balls were. She gave a condescending glance down at the couples on the dance floor who were engaged in some sort of dance that involved rectangular movements and many false smiles. She snorted. How pointless. Slouching back in her chair and ignoring the icy glare she received from her mother, Zoe sighed. She was restless, to say the least. Four years at the convent in the City of The Gods had been bad enough, the last thing Zoe wanted was to waste her life sitting in a high-backed chair, watching people dance. It was painfully obvious. Zoe needed a life.
The next day, after breakfast and the normal morning bickering with her parents about her future, she bathed and dressed in an orange dress and black silk skirt. Mounting her steed, she galloped over to where her brother Ashton was staying, now that he had moved his studies into Corus again.
"Hi, Ash." She said, and flopped down onto his bed, sprawled out and lounging like a cat in the sunlight. "I'm bored. Deathly bored. I need a life." She complained, and rolled over onto her stomach, staring at him pointedly, expecting an answer. Ashton, rather amusedly, looked at her from his desk.
"You also need a new shirt, that's a terrible color on you." He continued to scribble something onto a paper he was working on, then set it aside, lounging back into his chair. The room was claustrophobically small, but then again, he didn't mean to stay long. Just until his mother sent over a messenger telling him she was sorry they quarreled. He would be damned before he'd let her get the better of him.
"So what kind of life were you looking for? You could always renounce your family and turn to the streets. You wouldn't be bored then. You're too young for me to suggest a love affair, though those always brighten a weekend or two. But I think you're asking more for an actual point and purpose to life. If that's the case, why on earth did you come to me?" Zoe scowled at her shirt, picking at the shoulder in disdain.
"Mother bought it for me, and insists I wear it. I don't even think about looking pretty, anyway. I came to you because you *have* a life. I need advice, Ash. I've thought about renouncing the family, but I don't like rats, and the streets are full of them. Love is too much of a hassle, and I'm not depressed, so it's not like I can just take a blade and end it all. I hate Tortall, but I don't want to go to Carthak and study. I don't know *what* to do." She sighed,
"Can you help?" She pleaded. Ashton thought for a moment, making sure to note that a member of his own family was asking him for help. He noted the date and the time, and even if it was a little sister, it was still someone going to him and not Brent.
"You don't hate Tortall," he said after a little while of thought. "You might hate the palace, but you haven't seen enough of Tortall to say you hate it. I've found there to be little reason to hating countries because the country is the dirt and lakes and tress and if you hate dirt and trees, you have a bigger problem than boredom." He fidgeted a bit, unsure what to tell her. He was a big brother, he had to give some kind of advice. "Well, if you're serious... you could always ask mother and father to send you somewhere on a vacation or see if any delegations are going anywhere and ask to tag along. Although travel is often worse than sitting at home. You could always take a University class, I suppose. What do you like to do anyway?" he asked, glancing up from fiddling with a pencil.
"I don't know what I like to do, Ash. I was content to have playmates when I was younger, and then Mother decided to send me to the convent. It was awful, but it entertained me. Now that I'm out and I'm older, I've realized that there really isn't anything I like to do. Not that I've found, at least." She laughed a little, "Maybe I should run away from home." Ashton nodded, remembering going through this mentality himself. Of course, he hadn't entirely grown out of it.
"People seem to think we have such wonderful lives," he sighed, throwing the pencil lightly onto the desk. "Truth is, they're crap because we put so many restrictions on ourselves. All I can suggest is trying new things. We at least have the luxury of a University and a capital city. If nothing works there," he grinned a bit, "I hear Tyra can be amusing." Zoe grinned, starting to really like his train of thought.
"Actually, I've been thinking about Galla. I could dye my hair, buy some clothes.. start a whole new life as a commoner. It would be great.." She said, trailing off.
"It would be great... but?" he asked. "You trailed off there, I'm thinking I sense some hesitation. If it were me, Zoe?" He got up from his seat to grab a book from high on the shelf, then returned to his seat. "Start small. Try to find some amusement here. You could pretend to be a commoner here in the city. It's rather easy, we all do it at one time or another, I should imagine... except Brent and Natalia... Just find something before it's too late. And don't run off just yet." He leaned over to tweak her nose, something very unlike him. "We might miss you. Besides, I hate taking the full weight of our parents' dissatisfaction. They can worry about you turning into some kind of delinquent. It's kind of fun. Mom gets a couple grey hairs and Dad," he smirked, "Dad'll growl. Just find something, anything." He looked down at his book, then looked back up, the brother somewhere in him coming through. "Except boys. I'm one of those boys fathers warn their daughters about, so trust me when I say men are scum. Honest and truly. We'll always deny it publicly, but that just confirms it." Zoe laughed, and stood up, walking over to him and ruffling his hair lightly.
"Okay, I'll start small. And no boys, I promise." She kissed his cheek, something she had never done before to him in her entire life, and headed for the exit. At the door frame, she turned and smiled warmly at him.
"Goodbye, Ash." She said and left, an obvious sense of finality in her farewell.
Late that night, after thinking about the discussion she had had with her elder brother Ashton, and a particularly dull conversation with Carenna about orphanage conditions in Lower Corus, Zoe had made a decision. Ashton was right - she needed to *go*. For the average person, running away from home, although still a fairly large and drastic task, was plausible. For Zoe, it required some preparation. Late that night, after the servants had finished cleaning, she snuck into the lesser used quarters of the palace, where Elisa kept her things when she became Ceridwyn Fleur, and crept into the last room on the right. Inside the room, other than thick layer of dust, was a large basin filled with water, several towels, soap, and a bottle filled with a gooey black substance. Releasing her shoulder-length hair from a tie, she bent over the basin and washed her hair. After toweling her hair, she applied the black substance liberally to her hair, and waited. As she waited, using a small brush, she carefully applied the substance to her pale eyebrows.
More time passed, and Zoe made more preparations. She scribbled a fast note to her parents, explaining she had not been kidnapped, but had run away. By the 2 o'clock hour, Zoe was examining herself in a mirror, black hair falling around her face, two thin dark growths of hair above her eyes. Moving quickly, she packed money, food and a few personal objects that held great sentimental value. Silently, wearing a set of common, slightly ragged clothes, she slipped out to the stables, and readied her black mare, Nightshade. She mounted and urged Nightshade onward. She galloped through the city, only turning back once, after she had passed through the city limits of Corus. She studied the dark, looming shadow of the palace carefully, not knowing if she would
