Dear Violet, Don't Touch My Trousers

Violet raced down the hall in a rush to get back to her other tasks. When, suddenly, she rounded the corner and her arm was grabbed. She was pulled into the shadows abruptly, letting out nothing more than a squeak before seeing her captor and composing herself a bit better.

"King Rolan—!" She began in her surprise at the man.

Said King slapped a hand to her mouth and began in a low whisper after checking to see if anyone had heard. "You are in charge of Emilia's room correct?" She nodded, her lips sealed despite his hand being long removed. "Well, I'm assigning you another task that goes with that. And it has a lot to do with her wardrobe."

"What do you have in mind your Highness?" She whispered back, also checking her surroundings before leaning in to contribute to the plotting of her employer.

"My sister's attire may look fine now. But in that bag of hers she has a pair of trousers— if not many pairs. I need you to get them to me."

"But why would you need them?" She knew she wasn't supposed to question the King's order, but she couldn't help it. "I mean, of course I'll do it. But, why?"

"I need to break her out of her shell," He elaborated, not minding the slip in her etiquette considering his conspiring wasn't exactly in protocol either. "And she's never been one much for fancy dresses." He smiled with a clever glint in his eye. "I want to see her fight for them."

Violet wasn't sure she got it. Boys' logic she supposed it was. But she nodded her head in agreeance despite the minor issue of not understanding whatsoever.

One thing she knew for sure, however, is that the Queen most definitely had no idea about any of this.

She'd surely stop her husband if she did.

I threw my bag onto the bed and walked towards the window, drawing its curtain closed instantly. It was much too bright for my liking, and it was getting hot. I welcomed the dimmed room with a reserved smile and glanced at the untouched furniture nostalgically.

I suddenly wanted to retch.

The smile died on my face and the awe of the moment vanished instantaneously. I moved towards my bag and clicked the locks open, my clothes and materials springing from the cramped compartment and spilling onto the bed.

I scanned the room briefly for the drawers. Upon spotting them, I grabbed the entirety of my clothes in one armload and clumsily made my way over to the dresser. I used the heel of my boot to pry the drawer open and deposited the clump of laundry into it unceremoniously.

May I go ahead and announce that, in that moment in time, I was wearing the only dress I owned that was suitable for my title, or even remotely acceptable for that matter. It consisted of a deflated blue skirt and a layered bodice. It was mainly a frosted blue with darker blue accents along the seams of the jacket. The sleeves retreated from my wrists to my elbows and gloves covered the remainder of my arms. A weak excuse of a tiara rested upon my tightly wound up locks and a small locket adorned my exposed neck. It's all in the details, as an old friend of mine used to say.

It was a ridiculously amazing transformation from my usual, casual self. Yet, it was only considered lazy-wear here in the castle. I can't imagine getting anymore dressed up than I already am yet there are so many more possibilities. Mother would be positively angered if she saw that I wasn't even wearing a full corset. I laughed lightly as I saw my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were dull to put it simply, there wasn't the wild gleam that both of my siblings have and no expression I made actually made it to the blue orbs.

I grabbed the tiara in my fist, ripped it out of my hair and tossed it to the dressers side. I slid off my stockings and shoes and roughly shredded my gloves off. I flopped backwards onto the bed after I dismissed the suitcase of its placement there. And put my hand to my face, watching it carefully. Each twitch, each crevice.

Did you know once a woman reaches 18 she is not supposed to show either of her hands to anyone but her husband? Surely, the custom has been dropped, for it had only been upheld in castles for the last century. But even in castles it has seemed to boil down to the woman's choice as to if she wants to hide her skin or not.

That led my thoughts back to my father and his insistence on customs, which I quickly shot those memories down and instead thought of his predecessor. King Roland. My brother. He gave me my own room. The room of my childhood.

It's official, he's up to something.

Not only is he intending to acquaintance me to his new family, he's intending to do something big involving my presence. He knows I'm required to uphold a proper face, if not mentally, then physically. I can't openly express myself in this castle and he knows this. So what is he plotting?

I dropped my hand and allowed it to slap my face. It stung but it woke me up. Its intended purpose. I sat up and raked my fingers thought my hair, rashly tearing pins out and sprinkling them upon the bedspread. My thick blonde locks pooled around my hips and weighted my head down.

"It's about time for a haircut." I mumbled as I grasped the ends and pulled them to my face, studying how damaged they were. The white-blonde locks are definitely my most eye-catching feature, always earned me my attention from potential suitors, not that I gave any of them even a sliver of a chance.

I was young when they first began pouring in— half of them being a decade older than I. Ergo, I toyed with words and offended many of them into never returning for a second date. It totally cracked Roland and Tilly up. Cedric encouraged my smart mouth with his own snarky remarks, so you could say that we practiced on each other. But, as you should know, the moment our father died, the suitors stopped appearing. Either Roland stopped inviting and started turning them down, or father was making them come with his master manipulation skills when he was still alive. Though either is possible, I highly suspect the latter.

Which is why I always wind my hair up tight and out of sight using other means to distract: it gathers too much attention when it's down and in its full glory.

I stood up and glided on the pads of my feet to the full-body mirror, gently taking myself in. I looked ever the wild child like this. I smiled and this time it reached my eyes. With no one to give me any commands when I'm alone, and the strange fact that none of the commands seem to affect me when I'm alone, I was actually happy.

Does this explain why I'm a bit antisocial, especially by choice?

I sure hope so.

I allowed myself to shrink and hide in the thick locks that were down. It's embarrassing to have to put on such a serious face when I'm surrounded by family. Completely and utterly embarrassing. I swallowed hard as I uncrossed my arms and wrapped my fingers in my hair, winding it up once again into its condensed form. It's proper form.

I patted out my dress and slid on my stockings and shoes. I searched with my eyes and spotted the object of my fascination, my tiara. I picked it up and looked between it and my reflection for a while. The light in my eyes, the mirth I held, faded and was slowly overcome by that jaded sensation. I slid the tiara back in place, replaced my gloves, smoothed them out, and left the room swiftly.

I had spent hours alone in my thoughts and now it was dinner time. See what I meant when I said being alone is best?

I sighed wearily. Time to put back on the stone mask.

It's not like I have any other choice.

As I made to turn into the major hallway, little did I notice a small figure slinking into my room.

Nor did I know that my favorite apparels were in danger.

Arriving at the dining room was no small feat for Emilia. Yes, she had lived in the castle as a child, but that was a past life for her and what perhaps frustrated her more was when she thought for sure that it was just around the bend… only to find herself outside some other room entirely.

After a while of being in denial, she growled in frustration before erupting. "I'm lost in my own castle!" She roared and cursed thinking no one was around to hear her foul language.

Suddenly there was booming laughter and a frozen Emilia as her face went aflame.

"Emilia!" The older man laughed. "It's great to see you in good spirits. And, now that I think about it, it's good to see you all together!"

"Constable!" Emilia grasped her heart and she spun on her heel to face said man. "Shouldn't you know better than to lurk in the shadows!?"

Constable Myles shrugged. "Call it lurking if you wish but it was more like following to see where you were going. Stalking, now that's a better word for it I believe, don't you agree?"

"No." She answered plainly. "I don't."

Constable laughed again.

"Well?" The princess crossed her arms and tapped her foot petulantly. "Are you going to stand there and keel over all day or are you going to point me in the right direction?"

"You sure have developed a nasty attitude." He remarked with an amused smile. "You passed it on the last hallway."

Emilia felt her brow tick. Of course she did. "Thank you." She huffed lightly and scurried away.

Constable chuckled and, with a skip in his step, continued on his way.

Finding the dining hall after that was a bit simpler, though I was much more thorough in my search behind every single door.

Then I saw a long table and my sister-in-law chatting with Baileywick. I wasn't late. But I'm sure I wasn't early either.

Deciding that peeping was cramping my style, I slid smoothly and silently into the room, meandering down to where the two stood and awaited my turn.

"…Sofia was out in the gardens the last time I saw her. Princess Amber is on her way, just changing into her dinning gown. And Prince James told me to come and get him at the last possible moment." Baileywick explained matter-of-factly to Miranda.

Suddenly there was a joyous sigh and a closing of another door. I peered around the two counterparts and saw Roland walking out of the kitchen patting his stomach. I smiled lightly and wandered a bit closer to him.

"Get into that jiggly wiggly pudding already?" I asked, barely containing my patronizing smile.

"Indeed. And boy, are we in for a treat tonight for dinner." He sighed contently.

Baileywick and Miranda broke apart, each heading off into different directions looking as if they were going on a serious mission. I pointed and looked at my brother. "What are they doin—?"

"They are going to hunt down the kids. Dinner time." He added to his interruption, tapping his imaginative wristwatch.

"Ah." I acknowledged aloofly.

After a long, agonizing— to him— silence, Roland spoke. "Find your room to your standards?"

I snorted. "What kind of question is that? It is my room. Why wouldn't I?"

"You are quite a bit older than you were when you got off." He elaborated, sounding ever the serious king.

"Hm, I suppose." Was my halfhearted response.

"Dad! Tomorrow is flying derby tryout practice!" James came running in, a helmet perched upon his head.

I squinted in thought, wasn't that—?

"Really? That's awesome! So you're going to go?" Roland asked as he took his son's helmet and set it on the edge of the table, where a servant soon arrived and took it back to wherever it belonged.

"We are all planning to attend. I'm going to go cheer on Prince Hugo!" Amber added as she entered with her fan fluttering haughtily.

Sounds like your everyday derby practice.

Sofia was watching the pair excitedly. Apparently the concept of flying derby was fascinating to her. But that look on her face. It was more than simple fascination, it was almost… longing? To race?

I furrowed my brow as I watched the three kids fight for their father's attention all with the same topic of racing in mind.

This was going to be an eventful dinner.

Watching Roland ride precariously was unamusing for me. He kept flying off and landing in a pile on the hay stacks below.

Tilly was in the stables cleaning up the horse stables and feeding the remaining horses. So I was stuck by my father's side in the sidelines.

I had been holding my breath and remaining as still as I could, wisely avoiding being commanded to sit still and being restrained there for the rest of the afternoon.

As soon as Roland made his way to the tower, climbing it for the hundredth time, I saw the horse's expression change from despairing to confident and I knew it at that moment.

He would make it over.

So I readied myself.

The moment he made it over and through the bell tower, ringing the bell crudely and victoriously, I slid out of my seat and crept to hide at its side. The cheering crowd below and the draw Father had to bring his hands together in applause allowed enough distraction for this abrupt movement.

Mother saw me creep from my place. But I knew she pitied me almost as much as the castle staff did, so there was no doubt in my mind that she would keep her lips sealed at my escape. I didn't even bother looking her way as I watched Father intensely, searching for any hints as to his seeing my retreat.

His firm gaze watched Roland expectantly. He knew his son was trying to prove himself worthy of the crown. And Roland the First was never one to not give someone a chance.

I smiled impishly and scurried through the curtain as fast as I could push my little legs.

Making my way around the crowd and glancing up to the royal's box seats on many occasions, I knew better than to get cocky just because I thought myself in the clear.

If Father happened to turn and see my missing form… He'd surely spit out orders and commands like there's no tomorrow. Suddenly Roland fell from his horse again.

"Oh no! Father's gonna look down!" I whimpered as I reached out to steady myself.

My hand met the wood of the barn and an idea sparked in my young mind. I ducked inside and searched for Tilly. Seeing her on the opposite end of the stables. I ducked into a random stall and met a full-sized horse straight on.

I had to bite my tongue against the scream that wished to escape my lips.

Our faces were mere inches from one another as he paused in his meal to study me. I blinked curiously and a bit fearsome at the enormous beast before me. His deep black marbles stared at me as if they were looking into my soul. For all I knew, they just might be. Then they closed as he went back to his meal. He paid no mind to me. He belittled me! And then something snapped inside of me. My anger resided suddenly and I felt compelled to touch him.

I reached out my hand slowly and paused right before my fingertips reached his mane. I felt brash. This wasn't my place. I had no idea how to handle a horse.

Suddenly I leapt at the horse and wrapped my arms around its neck, tangling my fingers in his black mane and coddling it with my cheek.

Even the most amateur horse rider knew this was a big NO. You don't overpower a horse. You don't leap at one. You don't move abruptly when in the presence of one. Much less a horse that doesn't even know you.

Father would have gasped in horror.

"Seems to me that he likes you." I recoiled suddenly as I heard a familiar voice. I turned abruptly to see Tilly leaning over the rail, brush in hand. "How about I saddle him up and you take him out for a test run?"

I was frozen in horror. Matilda. I was specifically kept away from her by Father.

But… she's so nice.

"B-but Father—" I began, my unused voice squeaking and cracking as I attempted to protest.

"Hm?" She looked at me curiously as she placed the heavy sadly on the majestic beauty's back. "I don't think he can do much to you while you're on this bad boy." She laughed as she patted the horse's rump softly.

I didn't understand her logic but I suddenly shut my mouth, unsure if I really wanted to rain on her happy parade. She smiled softly to herself as she worked and paid me no mind as she secured the ropes to the horse.

I watched her work in silent amazement.

"Alright. Here you go." She suddenly appeared at my side, studying me. "Can you ride in that?"

I looked down at my dress and dress shoes. I suddenly felt mischievous. I pulled the tiara from my hair and threw it into the hay. "I'll be fine, just pass me a helmet." Tilly laughed and did as I asked.

She assisted me as I climbed onto the horses back and gave me the basic rundown of how to ride one and how to not fall off and how to fall off safely. I nodded firmly, storing her words away for later use.

I somehow felt like this big guy could handle me on his own.

Uhh… Perhaps I should listen to Matilda more carefully.

She opened the gate and led the horse out by his reins until we reached the door.

"Alright. From here on out you're on your own!" She smiled happily but I saw a bit of worry rise in her expression like bile as she saw Father and Mother leaning over the railing, watching us.

I didn't give her time to turn me back around and take me back to our parents as I gave a little kick.

And we were off.

I felt a bit insecure at first. But, upon seeing the course approaching fast, I tucked my body into the horse's back and used the reigns to guide him as he picked up speed. I ignored the boys also on horses as I flew by, a smile that had never been seen before overtaking my face. I flew through each obstacle as I had seen Roland do, and fail on a few occasions, smoothly.

And, before I knew it, I was at the top of the bell tower.

I reached out and rang the bell curtly as the horse continued and crossed the finish line.

"Whoa!" I said lowly as the horse tried to keep us going, and he landed heavily on the dirt below.

I felt my chest grow lighter and the burden of restriction lifting as the victory rang across my being.

But the celebration was short-lived at best as I was dragged off of the horse and set standing before Father, who was glowering down at me with such venom that I almost regretted climbing out of my seat in the first place. Keyword being almost.

There was a lot of silence as we all immediately climbed into the carriage. Tilly sent me an apologetic look. Roland stared at me with a strange expression that reappeared throughout the entirety of the ride. And Mother smiled at me weakly as she tried to sooth Father.

Father refused to look at me.

He was disappointed. Angry. And I was sure I was going to get it once we were in the privacy of our own home.

But the punishment never came.

The words never came.

And the resonating smack that would usually send me flying, the ever familiar pain across my cheek, was never delivered.

Father simply stormed off to his room, Mother trailing after his unreadable form worrisomely. Roland didn't look at me as he retreated to his own room as well.

But Tilly nudged my shoulder and smiled at me widely as we walked back to our rooms together, my tiara tightly clenched in her hands.

Was what I did good or bad?

I later found out that I had made my brother look bad and that that was unforgivable.

But I had also impressed my father.

That much was painfully evident.

The one thing I regret about the whole little expenditure, is that I never got to ride a flying horse again.

It was ordered as so.

Once we had all seated ourselves, I halfheartedly listened to the casual conversation, only filing away the bits that could possibly come up in a later conversation.

I shoveled the food into my mouth, pausing after each taste to listen to the conversation rolling around the table between each member of the family.

Then the topic of the derby came back up. I couldn't help but grind my teeth at the thought.

This time, however, Sofia began talking about wanting to do it as well. I nearly choked on my pudding. The scene that followed her words in my mind was all too familiar to one that occurred when I was but a child. I looked over at Roland to see how he was taking it. He looked surprised and undecided all rolled into one.

Sofia explained why she wanted to do it and Amber lectured her for it. Sofia didn't have an older sister like Tilly, that's for sure.

I noticed Roland wasn't really listening but was looking at James, who seemed undecided as well.

When Sofia attempted to defend her idea against Amber and no one batted an eyelash at her desire to do so, I glared at Roland, daring him to deny her simple desire. He wisely avoided my eyes.

And he didn't so look convinced on Sofia's side.

Suddenly, I felt my anger boil over and I was compelled to say something unabashed. I slammed my spoon to the table, my pudding jiggling in response to the forceful gesture. All eyes flew to me. I tried to scream, to yell, to shout, but was restrained to just clenching and unclenching my jaw in reflexive calming gestures.

"Emilia?" Roland asked as I ground my teeth.

"Just stop dancing around it. Let her do it." I said firmly, finally able to spit something out. "She has an older brother that's pretty good at it. She could just ask him for assistance if it gets too be too much for her. She's young so she still has time to develop her own image away yours." My voice was unwavering, but I was crying inside at how similar this situation was to my own.

Yet so very different at the same time.

"O-of course." Roland nodded assuredly. It was obvious that he saw the recognition in my own eyes at the situation. "I wouldn't want to hold my daughter from something she wants to do."

That was a cold awakening.

It was so obvious that he didn't mean for that last statement to come out like it did but I still felt the effect it held over me. "You said that on purpose." I muttered, my eyes widening in shock. "Just because you're trying to prove yourself to me. That you aren't him." I stood up and braced my hands on either side of my bowl my head hanging low and eyes hidden from view. "Well, you can stop with the façade right now. I won't have any of it. I'm going to have to excuse myself, Miranda, children." I allowed my bangs to cover my eyes as I trembled with nostalgia.

I hate this castle. I hate what it represents. What it holds.

I turned on my heel and pushed myself onwards as my shoes clicked on the stone floor in the shocked silence. It was painful to leave in the midst of shouting at my role model. But I couldn't have his pity. I won't be able to handle it if he keeps bringing up the past and trying to fix it. I know he's not my father. I know that he cares. The truth of it is that all of this is clearly evident.

I just want to move on. Make new ties with him. That's why I returned to the dreaded castle in the first place.

But I suspect that that is no longer possible.

My father's hand, even after he's long gone, still holds firmly to my heart.

And I suspect that I will never be able to break free.

I'm sorry Roland.

Roland wanted to call out to his sister to wait. But he knew that that would be too cruel, that that would push her over the edge at being commanded in such a crucial emotional state.

He knew it would sever the last straggling strings that still held them together.

He should have watched his words more carefully. He indeed wanted to prove that he wasn't his father, but he wanted to do so subtly. He wanted to edge into the subject and confirm the truths.

He wanted to fix the past before approaching the future.

If only he could see the truth of the matter.

If only he knew his sister better.

"What in the world?" I knew my closet was stacked with gowns my size galore. But there was no way I was actually planning on wearing them in the comforts of solitude. So I had brought my own casual wear.

So would someone please tell me why my drawer of trousers and tailored shirts was near empty?

I wanted to shriek in frustration. That maid— Violet was it— was the only one who had access to my room. That is, her, and Roland.

I wanted to throttle someone.

Roland's little stupid display and now this?

I ripped off my gloves and cracked my knuckles threateningly as I subconsciously shook my hair free of its restraints. My eyes glistened with mischief and a riled sort of anger. I couldn't help the small grin that crept across my lips. I slid off my heavy gown and changed into that of a much more relaxed one. Perhaps it was sleepwear, but it was late enough in the afternoon that my attire could be forgiven. I shed myself of the god-awful heels and reached under the dresser for my more casual flats. Perhaps these would be called slippers here.

Ignoring the strands of wavy blonde hair that attempted to hinder my vision, I allowed my evil gaze to darken as I thought up my next plan of action.

After ripping through the drawers and throwing ever other article of clothing behind me in my search for my pants, my growing angered mood had somehow morphed into that of a much more extreme form of spiritedness.

I didn't catch myself in the mirror as I pushed myself through the door that exited the room. I subconsciously knew that, if I happened to get the chance to take my wild form in, I would instantly feel the pull of the curse and be forced to become formal again.

I raggedly slammed the door and the bloodcurdling bang sent shivers of excitement throughout my body. The thought that this wasn't proper and respectful ran through my mind on more than one occasion, but I swallowed the vile doubt that attempted to rise in my throat.

Roland not understanding the intentions behind my visit is one thing. It's something that I can swallow my complaints about. But him tampering with my lifestyle was unforgivable and just enough to push me over the edge.

I felt the excitement and adrenaline pumping through my veins along with a raging flame of anger. I would have to make things clear once and for all.

I reached the royal suit and banged on the door, holding back a bit in fear of snapping the thin wood in half.

Miranda opened the door, surprise on her features and her brush in hand. I was forced to look up at her, her height being much greater than mine when I lacked heels.

"Yes?" She asked as politely as she could despite a rising sadness in her expression.

How odd, why would she be sad when— unless…

"Roland told you." I read, my voice barely more than a whisper as cold shock rang through my body.

"I beg your pardon?" Her brow scrunched up. "I didn't catch that."

"I need to speak to Roland… Is he in?" I shook myself from my stupor. It didn't matter right now if she knew or not.

She nodded firmly and turned to retreat a bit into their room. I strained my ears as I listened. "Rollie. Your sister is at the door and she wants to talk to you." Her intonation sounded angry with her husband and strongly urging for him to accept the invitation.

I heard some shuffles and scuffs inside before my brother's tall form overtook the door. He closed it behind him and moved into the hallway more. I struggled to control myself from lashing out the moment his face appeared.

"Listen, Emilia, about dinner—"

"Save it. I'm sure you have plenty of work to get back too, so I'll cut this short." I closed my eyes and took a deep calming breath before looking into his own orbs unwaveringly. "Listen carefully. I did not come to mend bonds. I don't think you understand that my past was not as painful as you're making it to be." I lied. But I couldn't have him tiptoeing around me anymore. Or being so worried for that matter. It's rather annoying. "I don't particularly care about what happened between me and Father and I don't see it as any of your business or responsibility to make up for something you had no hand in." I lied again. "I came today to make bonds with you and your new family. Our new family. The past holds no meaning with me and I had hoped to move beyond it ten years later. I'm over it." I lied for the final time but lacking any significant emotions in my tone. "And you should be as well." I finished firmly.

"So what do you want me to do? Dance around the past? Forget about all those awful things I did to you?" Roland looked defeated.

"Don't ever wish to forget. For the memories make you who you are." My voice was soft as I looked at him, studying the sad desperation in his eyes. "And what awful things did you ever do to me? Sure you weren't exactly the most doting brother, but you weren't the enemy either. You never did anything to specifically hurt me." I blushed as I thought about the truth and misdirected my eyes once I decided to spell it out. "Honestly, I admired you. Your composure. Your ability to speak against Father. I was always looking up to you. I saw you as my true role model. I really liked your image and was sure that if I was in the picture that it would be soiled. So I didn't mind the shadows so much."

"Y-you admired me?" Roland's voice was quiet and his being overridden by blatant shock.

I weakly punched his arm. "D-don't only focus on that part!" I screeched as my face turned redder. There was a still silence and I looked back up to his face only to see a soft expression residing across his face as he watched me. I felt my embarrassment deflate to just a bit bashful as I once again stared into his eyes and spoke. "And I still do. But I can't very well watch you from a distance when I don't even live in the castle! So… I decided to make some ties!" I forced out. "Stop pitying me." I whispered. "And let's just move on."

Suddenly I was smothered into a chest, arms wrapped around my back and intertwining into my hair, pulling me closer.

"I'm sorry I've made such an awful first impression after so many years. I'm always trying to be a great king and business man, but affairs of the heart aren't my strong point." He murmured into my ear.

I smiled as my eyes welled and wrapped my arms around his waist in turn. "It's alright, just don't make that mistake again."

After a few more moments of mushy hugging. I scowled.

He wasn't letting go.

I struggled out of his octopus-like grip and caught a glimpse of an impish smile. I felt myself slowly boil in anger as I remembered my other bone to pick with him.

"Another thing…" I trailed off, his leaving form surprising me. "Hold on! You're not even listening!" I shouted imprudently.

He disappeared altogether, killing my comical arousal in temper.

My eyes widened and my jaw dropped to one like that of a gaping fish.

Then he returned with folded fabrics in his hand. I watched them curiously as he neared. "I didn't expect this turn of events so my original plan is useless at this point. So here's your trousers back." He handed them off to my dumbfounded form. "I had a whole little foolproof plan set up but you went and did your own little thing and ruined that." He looked like a spoiled child that had been told no. "So there's no point now." And he turned and left.

I paused a few for more moments before angrily sputtering.

"HEY!"

So Roland has been settled with Emilia. Now it's either time to also settle her with some of the older characters as well or newly established with the younger family members and Miranda.

I'm still deciding.

Hope you like it!