Thanks to all those that have reviewed!

I introduced the other main male character in this chapter. Pushed things along really quickly, I think, because the first chapter was a drag. I'm thinking of doing another companion story from the male character's point of view (probably going to be called Hideous), too, because he's cursed as well.

Uhh... I did NOT just give away that spoiler.

Enjoy the story! Please review!

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Last Chapter Rewrite. After this, it'll be the actual story. Fitting some sort of Anastasia/Aladdin in here, yes? Beginning & End change. Middle content the same.

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CHAPTER ONE

Prince of Arrogance

My eyes flickered open as the sun crept over the distant horizon. I did not have a very restful night, considering the given state of my dreams. They did not help my current situation any.

With a weary sigh, I reluctantly pushed myself out of bed somewhat groggily; I was tired, having tossed and turned the whole night long. A memory crossed my mind; the letter would be delivered today. He would likely recieve it in a day or two; hopefully, the messenger would get lost or get into some spot of trouble, making the delivery time even longer, giving me time to escape.

I looked over to my small bundle of items, considering the trip I was to take. It consisted of one set of a formal dress, a blanket, food, and other small necessities, such as gold. I had not taken very much; perhaps he had not even noticed my disappearance yet. No, that was wishful thinking--I slept in the gardens one summer night and he was already frantic.

I sighed. It was more than likely that he's already looking for me. Running my fingers through my hair that had tangled somewhat overnight, I walked over to the bundle and lifted it. It was not extraodinarily heavy, given its size, but it did not hold the weight of a feather, either. My inkbottle and other such items insured that.

As I crept down the stairs, careful as not to wake any of the other residents, I slipped my hand into my pocket. I felt a few coins. I had plotted for my escape for the past several months, saving up my profit to the maximum. He hadn't guessed my intentions. Perhaps he thought that I was saving for a dress.

I would never.

"Going so early, miss?" the innkeeper said, disrupting me from my thoughts.

I turned around and gave a feeble smile. "Yes," I admitted. "I still have long ways to run."

He nodded; he was not the sort of man to try and pry more nights and more money out of guests. "Then best of luck to you," he offered.

"Thank you." I turned toward the door before stopping, looking over my shoulder. "Sir, about that letter... might you have your messenger speak not to the prince at all? Not about the inn, nor of me?"

He grinned crookedly. "Trying to keep your identity secret?" he said, nodding. "Very well; I understand your situation. That will be done."

"Thank you," I said graciously once more, entirely thankful. A weight in my chest was lifted as I exited the inn, starting my way. My tender skin was easily pricked and a blister started to form over the course of the day. I ate the minimum portion that I could, satisfying my hunger to only one half from being content.

I was not fortunate enough to be given a view of another inn, forcing myself to camp in the woods. There would be no inns in these woods, only in clearings; I would have at least a good three days without a bed before I exited the line of trees.

Sighing, I laid out my blanket and lied down upon it. But the coming winter was starting to pick up, and the air grew chilly, forcing me to huddle beneath the blanket and lie against the fallen leaves that crunched beneath me every time I rolled. The broken branches irritated my back and my head longed for a cushion.

But wasn't this the life I had bargained for? No more servants, no more gossip, no more political power struggle, no more unneccessary manners. I longed for a simple life, similar to the one I had before I left to cancel out my father's name of badness. I would have to grow used to it sooner or later.

With that thought, I opened myself to find the best of the worst, and I drifted into a gentle sleep.

Until the dreams came once more.

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I watched amused as young Jonathan chased after a butterfly. In my view, there was nothing wrong with this child. His enjoyments were merely found in items and objects that were normally considered to be apart of the female world, but his habits were quite good. I found no reason to try and restrict the child from his delight.

We were out in the gardens--one of Jonathan's favorites. In fact, where others have looked at him with scorn through his requests, I looked at it with great approval. He cared not for what others thought of him; such self-confidence could not easily be found. A delicate balance--not over-confident, and not under. Only just.

It was springtime again, and the flowers were in bloom. He distracted himself and directed his attention onto the newly budding lilacs, touching them tenderly. He had a way with plants, I had noticed. Jonathan was great friends with the gardeners--for who else would play with the little boy with interests of flowers instead of swords?--and had managed to bring life back to a brown, drying plant that I swore was already dead.

A small smile crossed my lips as he nursed it before looking at another plant. "This is a honeysuckle," he told me proudly. I nodded in agreement. "Do you know its medical functions?"

I frowned slightly and shook my head. "No, I'm afraid, I do not," I admitted.

And Jonathan then launched into a lecture of its uses, taking great delight in educating me something. I couldn't help but smile at his childlike innocence and the switch of the roles we were supposed to play. When he was done, I commented on his brilliance, causing him to smile broadly before a dragonfly caught his eye.

I did not follow him, allowing him to have his freedom, but I kept a close eye as to make sure he did not land into a spot of trouble. Likewise, I was not aware of the person behind me, so say, until words were spoken.

"Are you the maid who supposedly cures children of their mental instabilities?"

I turned, startled. I was met with a man with loose brown hair that hung over his eyes and broad shoulders. From his dress, I instantly assumed that he was of high rank, with the cape draped around one shoulder and lining of purple. I looked into his hazel eyes and could not decipher anything.

"Supposedly," I told him.

He smirked then, looking over my shoulder to glance at the boy, happily hopping after a grasshopper. "I see what they have said is true," he said. I was about to comment my thanks when he continued, wrinkling his nose in disgust, "You are an ugly thing."

I instantly pursed my lips and frowned, crossing my arms. Such a biased character! I have met such personalities in my youth, but then, they were children my age and had lacked maturity and compassion. Never had I expected such words to come from an adult--and a noble at that! Granted, he was quite young--perhaps only twenty at most? But an adult nonetheless.

He either did not mind my silence or ignored it completely. "Your efforts on this child will be futile," he told me as if it were fact.

"So they have told me for the past several children I was to guide," I retorted.

Once more, he did not care for my reply and said, "I can see you are failing in your task already."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "There is nothing wrong with the child."

This time, he heard what I had said, and looked at me strangely. "Nothing wrong?" he repeated, thoroughly surprised. "That boy enjoys picking dandelions and daisies while he should be studying combat techniques! It is not natural!"

"At least he has sensitivity," I said angrily, defending the unaware child who still delighted himself in dangling his feet in the pond, "unlike some people I have the misfortune to meet." I looked at him coldly.

He understood my meaning. "And what will flowers do a man good?"

"He would make an excellent doctor," I said crossly. "He knows more of herbs and plants than you would likely learn in two lifetimes."

He let out a chuckle, but his eyes showed no amusement. "He is naught but eight," he said.

"I am naught but seventeen," I replied, "and I have made children smile when more experienced nursemaids have failed to do so."

"You take pride in that, do you not?" he said, sneering at me.

I regarded him coolly. "And do you take pride in making others feel insignificant? In trying to ruin a child's fantasy realm?"

When he did not respond, I turned away and looked at the sun's position in the sky. It was time to head back in. I returned my gaze to the high-ranking stranger and said, "I would now bid you a good day, should I have wished it on you. But I do not, and likewise, I cannot do so."

I did not wait to see his reaction, merely turning to take Jonathan by the hand. He happily skipped ahead of me, tugging me along, telling me about the fish that he'd seen in the pond and how many butterflies he had caught. I smiled at his excitement, pushing away all thoughts and memories of that unpleasant stranger.

That afternoon, when Jonathan was taken away to his other studies that I could not aid him with--in short, sword fighting--I wandered around aimlessly, coincidentally meeting Mya.

"How has your day been?" she asked me as we stopped to talk. I suddenly reflected on that stranger with a cocky attitude and my frown deepened. "Not good, I take?"

I shook my head. "It is not bad," I replied earnestly. "I have only met an arrogant nobleman to whom I hope never to cross paths with again." Without my notice, my eyes clouded in angry memory.

"There are a many arrogant noblemen in the castle," Mya said, shaking her head. "I've ranted on to you about that before; I'm quite certain you don't want to hear it again."

I smiled. "Quite true--I'd really rather not."

Then, Mya's frown deepened. "I seem to be forgetting something," she said, tapping her chin lightly in thought. "It's something important, I know... but I simply cannot remember it!" She sighed, exasperated with herself, then shook her head, giving up. "Oh, I'll tell you when I remember."

"Is it urgent?" I asked her.

"I can't recall," Mya admitted, a sheepish grin on her face. "I must depart now; this feeling is burning a hole through me!" She grinned and turned to leave. When she was just about to turn a corridor, however, she stopped and came back toward me. "Oh, I remember now! There's a ball!"

I blinked. Of all things, I certainly did not expect this. "A ball?" I echoed. I did not see how it concerned me; many balls were always being held about, but I never attended, nor was I invited.

Mya nodded. "Yes; the young lord Jonathan is to attend," she said. "These balls are specifically designed for young lords and ladies to watch the older lords and ladies dance--to educate them."

I nodded in comprehension. I mentally reschedule my lesson plans.

"You are to attend as well."

The words didn't seem to sink in at first. I suppose they were so foreign that I simply could not recognize them. They finally did, and I gasped in surprise. "Me? Attend a ball?" I said. The idea was ludicrous!

Mya didn't seem to know what was so strange about it. "During these balls, a few maids are needed to keep order. You were among the chosen." A smile flickered across her face.

A small excitement rose inside my chest. I would be attending a ball. I had heard all sorts of stories about it, of course--of how wonderful they were, of how atrocious they were. I didn't know what to expect, but I couldn't wait to experience it.

Then my hopes were dashed and dread overcame as I recalled one of the major reasons why I had never attended a ball. I was hideous. Every inch of skin stretched across my body had the absolute worst coloring any man had ever seen. No one could ever truthfully positively comment on my hair, eyes, and my appearance in general. I was not even in proportion!

"Worry not of the attire," Mya said quickly, likely recognizing my thought. "I will aid you. You will not be required to dance, only there to stand chaperoning."

With that statement, my excitement and dread were at once gone. Chaperoning? Well, that was quite boring indeed!

I pushed back the negative thoughts. I was still attending a ball, was I not? I would be able to comment on it from first-hand experience. Oh, if Aquien knew! "You'll fit in gloriously," he'd say, trying to support me, "but are you quite sure that you wish to go? It doesn't seem to suit you."

"I really must be going now," Mya said, glancing behind her. "I will see you later."

"And you, too," I said in a departing greeting as she turned to leave once more. I, too, continued in my own way with my own direction, thinking about it. I wondered about Jonathan's reaction to the news...

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"Must I?" Jonathan whined.

I smiled. I had only just told him of the ball, and it was already apparent that he was reluctant. "Why ever not?" I said, trying to keep my voice sincere.

"It'll be boring," he said, fiddling with his quill, "and--and, there'll be girls."

I chuckled at his immaturity. "I'm sure it'll be interesting enough, at least. And if it's boring, you can make fun of it that way." I paused. "And what can you complain about girls?"

He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "They're far too strange," he explained to me. "They complain over the tiniest speck of dust!"

Though Jonathan was fond of flowers and plants, he did not mind being dirty at all; after all, being dirty was just another part of gardening. He was quite used to it. Granted, he did know how to dress nicely, but cared not for appearances. It was only natural that he would find the girlish behavior strange.

"And they pick flowers," he continued. "Don't they know it kills the flowers?"

I smiled. "They will learn in time," I said, though I secretly doubted it. I had seen enough air-headed ladies around with nothing but a beautiful face to cover their empty-headedness. "Maybe you will meet a girl who isn't like the rest."

"I doubt it," Jonathan said.

I sighed. "I'll be coming, too," I said to him encouragingly. "If you can't stand them, just tell me."

My attendance seemed to lighten his mood considerably, though not quite enough. He still dreaded attending--rather the opposite of myself--though the case was not as severe as it was before.

And, in a whim, the next week flew by as a bird does in the sky during the arrival of winter--only a tad bit faster than their migration. And before I knew it, Jonathan was sent to another room to prepare and Mya had dragged me into her own room, coming out of her wardrobe with mountains of dresses and gowns piled on her arms before she placed them with the growing heap on the bed.

To my extreme surprise, Mya seemed actually excited, perhaps more so than me. For one who constantly complained about the shallowness of the common court lady and their obsession over fragile appearances, she was uncharacteristically anxious about the upcoming ball.

I questioned her about it and she only waved my comment aside. "A ball is a social hour," she explained to me, pulling out a necklace from her jewelry box. "Granted, those women manipulate that time to gossip and spread more rumors, and balls are perhaps the most fashionable way to do it, when everyone is dressed in their best apparel. But one can have fun, and that is what matters."

I personally thought that there was, perhaps, a man that had caught Mya's eye, but I did not voice this thought aloud and let her continue in her frantic search of proper clothing. It seemed that balls held by royalty were the most important, especially ones such as these--so that the future noblemen and noblewomen would be able to hold a fantastic ball that exceeds standards.

And luck has it that the only ball I would likely ever attend would be among the most important ones there were.

Mya had already chosen her gown and it was laid aside, but she did not cease searching for a gown for me. "It's useless," I pointed out to her. "With my given appearances, I would turn the most beautiful gown into something disastrous. A simple gown, I think, would work best."

"I will not have you as the laughing stock among those ladies," Mya said crossly as she continued tossing a few gowns aside and comparing me with others.

I sighed. "Being hideous in a beautiful gown would make me even more of a laughing stock," I told her. What I said seemed to make some sort of sense to Mya, for she immediately put down the dress she'd been holding up, a thoughtful look crossing her face.

Slowly, she agreed with me, and together, we put away the dresses. I sympathized with her efforts, but I leapt with joy at the same time. I had dreaded wearing a heavy gown with excessive decorations and scratchy lace.

But it seemed that Mya had a dress in mind, for she otherwise would not have been so easily swayed. From within her closet, she pulled out a brown dress with a deep red lining that was substantially simpler than all the other gowns.

"It doesn't fit me," she explained, handing it over to me, "for I am not tall enough. If it fits you, you may keep it."

I could tell from the moment the gown was transferred to my hands that it was expensive. The material was soft and silky and felt like water slipping through my hands. After a little more persuasion on Mya's part, I finally changed into the dress.

I did not glance at the mirror at first, for I knew I would appear atrocious. But the dress felt splendid; it was light and airy with a flowing feeling and fit me perfectly. But one turn toward the mirror ensured my ugly appearance.

The colors, somehow, had managed to clash with my physical features: sickly yellow hair and muddy brown eyes and deathly pale skin that seemed ready to flake. I agreed that it appeared better than some of the lighter colored gowns would have, but the dress would have looked far better on a person with Mya's looks.

I was lanky. I could not deny that. While the dress fit me vertically, it was too wide horizontally. Mya pulled out a sash matching the lining of the sleeves and tied it around my waist rather elegantly, proving just how skinny and frail I was.

Too skinny.

Unhealthily skinny.

It disgusted me.

I took my hair and tied it into a simple bun and left it like so, despite Mya's protests. And, once more, I denied the shoes that Mya had, for none of them fit my large feet.

"You can't wear slippers!" Mya protested, exasperated. "No one wears shoes like that to balls, and they go horribly with that dress! What if someone should see?"

I smiled slightly. "Then I'd beat them black and blue until they believed themselves dilusional."

To that, Mya only huffed and muttered something that I did not catch, but I smiled in amusement anyway. To divert her attention from me, I brought up her own apparel. It worked and by the time she was done, she was far more gorgeous than me.

But what was not to be expected?

"I think I understand why some people would rather not attend a ball," I said feebly as we finally finished with her hair. "Far too much effort, pushing, poking, and fretting."

"But the outcome--" Mya started, but I gave her a pointed look, gesturing to my own outcome. She fell silent and found nothing to say to that, only continuing hurriedly, "I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself at the ball, anyways. You never have been one to allow others to influence you."

I smiled. "A little too true," I admitted, and we walked toward the ball, while I fidgeted all the while.

Luckily, as I was not a true attendant, but rather, a chaperone, I did not need to go through what would have been a humiliating grand entrance and was allowed to slip in quietly through one of the side doors. It turned out there were only one or two other chaperones that stood around, keeping an eye on the children as they danced, plus the dancing instructor.

The young lords and ladies were awkward at first, standing around and shuffling their feet. One even went so far as to hide behind as many adults as he could. I could not help but smile.

When several dances were over, however, the first young lord plucked up the courage and walked toward a girl that he had been watching the whole time and asked her to dance. She giggled and agreed. Afterwards, more and more young children took over the dance floor. I was briefly reminded of a plague.

Mya, who had been dancing all night, came toward be breathlessly and started naming people. "That is Lord Phillyglas, and he hates it when people make fun of his name," she said, pointing to a man with a round belly. "Oh, Good Lord, there's one of the most obnoxious ladies I have ever met. Countess Viera, quite beautiful, isn't she? Perhaps the most beautiful here. She has the absolute worst attitude!"

Indeed, Countess Viera was amazingly attractive. Her gentle red curls were piled to the top of her head and her pale blue eyes sparkled with amusement. Her complexion was a fair white--not at all dark, but not as pale as my own skin. I noted to stay away from the vain character.

"Oh, look! There's the royalty, Prince Adrian, III," she said, nudging her head toward a brown-haired man who seemed too familiar.

My eyes narrowed. "Him?" I repeated. "That rude pig is the prince? What a sorry country this will be when he rules!"

"Rude pig?" Mya said, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Suddenly, snippets of our earlier conversation returned to Mya's memory and realization dawned upon her. "You don't mean--that he is the arrogant man that you met today that gave you such a grumpy mood?"

"Is there another arrogant pig," I said, correcting her, "that I complained about today?"

Mya's eyes widened in horror. "Oh, Sina, you cannot insult the prince! He--well, he's the prince!" she said urgently.

"He's an obnoxious prick, that's what he is," I said.

Mya shook her head. "He is not as bad as you say; I have seen him before, and he is fair," she insisted anxiously.

I only smiled and said, "I have my own experiences with him, and I can promise he is anything but fair."

"He is nothing of the sort!" Mya said, covering for the prince. I did not quite understand why; fact is fact, and one would do well to admit and accept it, however grudgingly. "He is a very intellectual and careful prince who genuinely cares for his country."

I snorted--a terrible unladylike thing, but it mattered not, for I was not a lady. "If he does," I said, though not believing a word of it, "then he is either an excellent actor or a liar."

A strange look crossed Mya's face--hurt? Disappointment? I couldn't quite interpret it. "I see," Mya said quietly. She shook her head lightly. "You can be quite stubborn at times."

I ignored her comment as I looked after the children. It was my whole reason of attendance. "Well, we cannot all share the same views," I said discardingly, pushing past our clashing feelings. "For all you might know, I could be one of those flirting ladies, sent to know you only to mock." A teasing smile was on my lips and the mood lifted.

The ball ended before midnight, surprisingly; I assumed it was due to the children's attendance. They needed sleep. I had not danced at all that night, and I was thankful for it; I had never danced before in my life, and I did not want to make a greater fool of myself than what I already was.

After making sure Jonathan was sleeping well, I departed to my own bedroom for some rest. Blowing out the candle, I then rolled over in my bed, covering myself with the covers. And then the idea flickered across my mind once more.

That sorry pig is the prince!

I grunted at the fact. I hoped never to cross paths with him again, and if I must, I would prove him wrong.

I didn't know that I would have to cross paths with him many more times.

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So, I introduced Sina's fault earlier than I'd planned. Yeah. Well... Hope you enjoyed! Please reivew!