The evening continued on quite uneventfully. I was shoved into the crystalline waters of a porcelain bathtub by the maid, and my hair was scrubbed thoroughly with some sort of soapy concoction. She then lathered some grainy scrub over my shoulders, back, behind, thighs, calves, feet, stomach, and chest.
"Ouch!" I yelped. "What is that? It scratches me."
"Just an herbal bath scrub, dearie," the chambermaid assured. "Here, why don't you rinse up while I get your dress?"
I imitated her obnoxiously, where she countered by playfully splashing me with some water.
"Don't take too long, darling," I giggled mockingly. She shot me a dangerous look before disappearing out the door and down the hallway. I decided to inspect my surroundings. The royal bath was luxurious, to say the least. The entire tub was encrusted in rubies, emeralds, diamonds and gold. Pearls lined the bottom of the wash basin, and the room was constructed primarily out of marble. The ceiling held some sort of fancy, medieval painting and a chandelier dangled from the center. On either side of the vicinity was a glass window that overlooked the kingdom of Demacia. The sun was now gently setting beneath the horizon. I heaved a satisfactory sigh, setting my chin on top of the sides of the bathtub, myarms splayed out messily on either side. I loved absolutely everything about the place where I lived. From the large, colorful buildings to the outrageous, floral fashion taste to the busy, vibrant marketplace to the hidden pockets of wonders- like the forest I always enjoyed exploring with Garen as children behind the castle, or the pond I bathed secretly in sometimes tucked around the outskirts of town, or the swamp I occasionally ventured in on the side of the city square. I cupped her hands into the steaming water around her and poured some over her hair, gently massaging my face.
"It's a good life," I whispered to myself. Too bad that life would soon be ruined after I have to share it with some boisterous freak. Who cares if he is some strong, masculine military commander? I certainly didn't. If he was like all the rest of the Demacian men- arrogant, uptight, aristocratic and indulgent, I had no interest whatsoever. I silently punched myself. Oh Lux, you silly princess, how could I be so quick to make assumptions? For all I know, he could be a genuinely caring person. After all, I haven't even met the man yet.
"My lady, are you ready yet?" I heard the servant girl whisper on the other side of the room.
"Yes, yes, just one moment," I responded, disappearing beneath the surface of the warm bath water and just lying still for a moment. She waited patiently. There was hardly any time during the day where I could just relax and be at peace. If it were a moment to hold my breath and wriggle around in a tub of briny soap, she would be happy to grant me that sort of tranquility once in a while, no matter how big of a hurry we were in. I stood up after several minutes, and stepped toward the maid, where she welcomed me with a towel and a bottle of lotion.
"Hurry, dry and moisturize yourself, we only have an hour or so before the ceremony begins," she hissed harshly.
"Alright, alright," I sighed melancholically in response, wrapping the towel over my breasts and tucking the prickly fabric into my armpits. I poured some lotion into my open palms and then lathered it over my arms. It smelled of sweet, fruity nectar. I followed her into my bedroom, drying my hair with the towel before being forced to sit down onto the chair facing my vanity.
"Arms up," the chambermaid instructed, as if this was a common drill. I did just so as she strapped on an awfully tight corset.
"Ouch!" I gasped as she proceeded to tie ugly knots into the brittle fabric.
"You are going to have to get used to this once you become queen," the chambermaid murmured. "She has to wear one every single day, for long periods of time."
"I hate corsets!" I whined. My breasts spilled over the top of the piece, which the maiden grumbled annoyedly to herself as she adjusted them back into place, and then walking behind me once more in order to fasten the cloth. She shook her head with dismay once she tightened the last knot. I could hardly breathe.
"Do you think you could loosen this, maybe slightly?" I requested. It was reasonable! I could have passed out right then and there.
"No," she replied curtly,
"Oh, but it hurts!" I whined, making sure to drag out the last word.
She shook her head in response, retrieving more undergarments from a cabinet located on the other side of the room. My eyes darted from corner to corner. This was it. Where I could make my grand escape. Call for a horse drawn carriage and then gallop into the Demacian countryside, disguising myself as a farmer's daughter for the remainder of my existence. How lovely and downright rational that would be.
"Don't even think about it," she whispered menacingly as I was about to stand up. I shrunk back into my seat as she fitted my panties on, and then a lacy neck collar and some silky gloves.
"I hate these sorts of outfits," I muttered. "So tight and itchy and girly."
"This is royal clothing, my dear," the servant girl countered. "It is mandatory that you wear them for today's occasion. It will be over before you know it, I guarantee."
"Do you promise me?" I asked, as she brushed my long, flowing golden hair.
"Of course," she said. "It will start off with a traditional Demacian banquet, and then an exciting performance done by Demacian aristocrats, where you will be making your feature appearance. " My face lit up at this notion. I have always adored behind underneath the spotlight. The chambermaid noticed my enthusiasm for this segment particularly, and then continued on with her rambling, which I barely paid attention to.
"Later, there will be the grand ball in the open garden, with a gala to end the evening. Afterwards, the women will naturally converse and gossip in the field behind, and then the men will drink, dine and gamble in the main hall." She finished combing my hair, setting the brush down and then ruffling it slightly. "It's just like it always has been."
"How exciting," I mumbled, setting my head down onto the table. I looked at myself in the mirror. My usually aqua gems of pupils that glittered with excitement were now devoid of emotion, flickering dimly underneath the light. My golden hair that once possessed the texture of rolling prairies of wheat now laid drably on either side of my head. My nose wriggled playfully underneath the splash of brown freckles, and my cherry blossom pink cheeks were now flushed more than ever. My thin lips opened and closed as I mumbled grumpily to myself.
"Don't be like that my mistress," the maid scolded, standing me up and leading me to the wardrobe. "I hate seeing you upset. Besides, it will be over before you know it."
"I will just pray to the gods above that he doesn't like dancing,too much," I complained. "That will drag the horrid death march on far longer than I intend it to."
"Luxanna Crownguard!" the maid shouted, now standing completely still, her hands on either side of her as she remained still as a pole in the middle of my closet. "You will dance with him! Is that understood?"
I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. "I just don't understand why this is such a big deal. It is honestly such a bore."
She proceeded to remove a white dress from the rack nearby, which was embellished with gold-encrusted fabric. It was fairly low cut, and the skirt beneath it was a high-low. I neither liked nor disliked the garment. She allowed me to step into it, and then zipped up the back. I looked at myself once more, admiring my delicate, angelic figure. The dress suited my frame well. I always trusted my servant girls to pick out my clothing for me. They were considerate of my sense of style, but they still had to follow the orders of King Crownguard, my father. if they didn't, showing up to this all important ceremony in a rainbow strapless dress embedded with sequins and jewels of the like would certainly not be in favor of my father's wishes. My train of thought was interrupted when I heard the chambermaid giggle with excitement.
"The finishing touch," she whispered to herself.
"What?" I inquired curiously.
"The tiara!" she exclaimed, fetching a wooden box from a near dresser.
"Ooh!" I laughed. "Now this is more like it!" She nestled the prestigious headdress into my hair. Jewels and gemstones of all sorts were embedded in the silvery piece.
"I love it, I love it!" I screamed, jumping up and down.
"Now, now dearie," the servant girl giggled. "Let's not get too excited." I was bubbling with jubilation as she lead me back to my vanity.
"I have always hated wearing makeup," I whined as the maid patted my face with some flesh-colored powder.
"And why is that, your highness?" she inquired, though I doubt she was all that interested in hearing my answer.
"It makes me look like someone I am not," I answered simplistically.
"Close your eyes," she directed softly, before applying some glittery, golden eyeshadow over my lids. I have always respected her tastes. They were elegant, refined and pretty, but certainly not too over the top, and maintaining my natural beauty by not concealing it, but rather accentuating it.
"I mean, I hate how all those pesky Demacian girls feel inclined to cover their already ugly faces with even more of this stuff," i muttered to myself. "It really just defeats the purpose because it shows how insecure they are with themselves."
"Luxanna," the chambermaid scolded. "You and I are both very clear on what happened last time, remember? When you called a lady from some aristocratic Demacian family a 'deformed, haggard mutant who will never find a boyfriend'?"
"Yeah, whatever," I replied.
"You need to watch your mouth sometimes," the servant girl responded. "You genuinely hurt her feelings. I want to see a formal apology from you tonight, and your father does too."
"She was the one that was stuffing her face with all that sponge cake," I defended. "It isn't before long that she will soon become as large and globular as Duchess Mildred."
"Luxanna," her voice became dangerous. I shut up. After all, she was the one that was applying my makeup. I felt the wet eyeliner coat over my flesh, followed by the ticklish, circular sensation of the blush. The mascara pulled harshly at my eyelashes. I felt some hairs on my eyebrows being plucked.
"Ow!" I squealed.
"Just several more.." she said to herself, and put the tweezers down once my screaming became unbearable. "Fine! We will just have uneven eyebrows for tonight. Is that what you want?"
I shook my head. "That's what I thought," she replied. She proceeded to dangle that menacing, metallic device over my eyebrows. I squeezed my eyes shut. Several more hairs were plucked, followed by several more girlish yelps. My mouth was soon coated in a peachy, pinkish lipstick followed my a glittery, iridescent gloss. She removed some white, pearly heels from a nearby drawer and allowed me to step into them.
"There, you are ready," she whispered. "Unless you would like to have that mane of yours in an updo."
"That would be very much appreciated," I said. "After all, am I not dancing the night away with Jarvan the fourth?" I rolled my eyes as I uttered the last line with the utmost sarcasm.
"I am positive you will survive," the servant girl responded, sitting me back down in front of my vanity and removing a curling iron from another intricately styled cabinet. She rolled the metallic bar into my hair, holding it as it pressed my tresses into complicatedly textured curls.
"No I won't," I replied. "Perhaps I will faint, have a heart attack or something. The sheer stupidity of my future husband will overwhelm me and I will naturally experience an unfortunate aneurism and die before the last waltz on the dancefloor."
"Now, now, I am sure it will not be as bad as you make it out to be," the chambermaid countered. She fit the last curl beneath a glimmery headband she fit over my hair.
"Done!" she exclaimed, quite pleased with herself at a job well done. And so it was. "Now
why don't you gather some belongings into this golden clutch while I clean up and escort you downstairs. It is going to be a long night ahead of us." I did as I was told, before fitting on some elegant pearl earrings and a golden necklace. I managed to fit some bangles on either wrist and clattered my way to the nearest mirror. I felt like a robot. Everything was on so tightly and wetly and uncomfortably. But I still managed to admire my appearance, if not for just a moment. I placed a hand mirror, several coins, a watch, a compass, and a fan into the clutch before I left out of the door. The halls felt warmer and more vibrant than usual as the chambermaid trailed behind me. The bright gold and red carpeting laid proudly beneath my feet as the portraits of hundreds of ancestral Demacians fled past me, ones that I barely paid any attention to on a daily basis as I whisked through these breezeways. I stepped hurriedly down the spiral staircase to meet my father in the main courtroom. Food was already placed on the tables- yet another traditional Demacian dinner, with turkey, bread rolls, mashed potatoes, beets, yams, cranberry sauce, caesar salad, and tomato cream soup. I greeted my father, just for show.
He was seated solemnly upon his throne. He looked as he usually did- flowing blonde hair that was now beginning to whiten at the edges, a proud mustache sitting above his lips, bold sideburns in front of his ears and a large hearty smile. He greeted me with open arms. He was dressed in a white suit with golden trim and a cape tucked securely behind.
"My little Luxanna," he smiled. "Why don't you take a seat?" I nodded.
"Of course," I replied, feeling the thousands of sets of eyes laying on my back as I found my way onto my throne. I spotted Garen out of the corner of my eye, in his usual attire- a silver and gold chestplate with a navy blue cape dangling behind him. His metallic trousers disappeared into leathered boots and his sword was hidden in a sheath that suspended onto a belt.
"Oh if it isn't the brother I socialize, laugh and converse with on a daily basis about Demacian politics," I greeted sarcastically. He seemed to be in a particularly bad mood today, as if he wasn't angry, sullen, and unsociable on a daily basis.
"Don't screw this up like last time," he hissed between gritted teeth as he took his seat in a throne on the other side of father. I rolled my eyes and folded my arms across my chest. Aristocratic families soon began to pour in, duchesses and dukes, noblemen- the Demacian elite, I liked to call them. They filed and seated themselves accordingly into their respective tables, usually conglomerating in grouply clusters of close family relatives and friends.
"Welcome, all!" my father exclaimed, standing up from his seat once everyone was settled. The main hall was filled with people. It was quite a luxurious sight, the windows glistening from the sunset's last bits of light, rainbows reflecting from the pieces of glass. A round of applause resounded through the room as my father graced everyone with his presence. I sneered at Garen. He met my gaze with an unfriendly scowl before scouting the room with his calculating eyes.
"I would like to re-introduce my daughter, Luxanna Crownguard, the princess of Demacia!" he exclaimed, motioning for me to stand. I did so reluctantly, smiling halfheartedly. I just was not in the mood. My father gestured to me once more, placing a fingertip on either side of my his lips.
"Smile!" he mouthed. And so I did. For him. I beamed and giggled and laughed and joked as I always pretended to do. For him.
"Hello, everybody!" I greeted in an unnatural, high-pitched overly enthusiastic voice. "It is so-" I pretended to accidentally trip over my high heels before stopping myself. Clumsy and cute. Just like he wanted me to be. "Amazing to meet you all!" A roar of laughter resounded through the halls.
"And my son, Garen Crownguard, the prince of Demacia!" my father continued, disguising that fess-up as an everyday happening.
He stood up, bowing his head sincerely to the crowd. A less loud round of applause echoed through the hallway.
"I would like to thank you all for participating in this momentous occasion- the celebration of the engagement of my daughter, Luxanna Crownguard to the prince of the Demacia from the Lightshield family- Jarvan the fourth!" he yelled, raising his arms in the air. Loud cheers and whistles resounded. I clapped my hands together, pretending to seem excited and happy when I was everything but.
"Now, now, settle down, everyone!" my father chuckled. "Let us commence the banquet!" He raised his glass of champagne into the air as everyone sitting in the tables mirrored this action. I sipped from my own, scanning the room attentively.
"Father," I whispered.
"Hm?" he raised his eyebrows.
"Where is he?" I asked. Funny. How I was not even informed of this arrangement until several hours ago. Not by my father, not by my brother or any member of the Crownguard family for that matter, but my chambermaid.
"Oh, Jarvan?" my father inquired. I rolled my eyes once more.
"Who else?" I countered.
"Watch your tone," he responded. I did just so. "He is probably returning from a skirmish over the hills, I am sure he will be here soon." I was growing ever more impatient.
"Just who is this person?" I asked, exasperated. I was angry. Mad that he didn't tell me about this earlier, that it was such a last minute situation. As if the happiness of his daughter comes second to the Crownguard name. "Why must I marry him?"
"For the economic, financial, and military stability of the Crownguard family," he replied simplistically. And it was just that. I folded my arms across my chest, my anger boiling over ever more. I looked around the room once more. It was decorated quite extravagantly as usual, the curtains regal and bright, drawn to embellish the windows, golden carpeting on the ground and white wallpaper rolled on the sides, glassy, opalescent chandeliers glistening elegantly, suspended from the ceiling. More paintings of slightly more ancestral Demacians lingered on the walls as well. How could he. How could he possibly say and do something like that. I wanted to disappear into the throne as the front doors of the main hall opened, interrupting everyone's dining experience. A tall man in golden armor stood at the entrance, with a royal guard on either side of him. He approached the three thrones on the opposite side of the hall, his steps languid and smooth. I inspected his face. It was rugged, considerably handsome, but certainly not of my taste. Too stubbly. Too old. Too mature.
"Salutations, your highness!" he exclaimed, kneeling before my father, his left hand on his right shoulder and his head bowed down low. The soldiers of the royal guard mimicked this action.
"Hello, Prince Jarvan," my father smiled. "I would like you to meet my daughter, Luxanna Crownguard." I felt my eyes watering. Oh, just a normal introduction between adolescents, heirs of the Crownguard and Lightshield name. Nothing more, nothing less. Fairly casual, not as momentous as a future marriage or anything. I was looking in an opposite direction, lips quivering. I was no more than pawn on the chessboard, another piece for the King Crownguard to manipulate and use for his own comfort and pleasure. I looked down at him. He met my gaze with a half-smile. I grimaced. My tears were starting to well over, but I expeditiously stopped myself. Coughing, and swallowing the lump in my throat. I managed to force a smile. After all, crying would ruin my makeup.