I walked out of the fitting room with my atrocious behemoth size wedding gown- that was basically a tent with sleeves. "Oh darling, that dress is beautiful on you!" Haji jumped with joy.

He likes this thing? I looked in the mirror at the abstract piece of work on my body. My long white hair waved down over the bodice and tangled with one of the beads. I pulled at it and threw my hair behind my shoulder to prevent further injury. Does he have a fetish for fancy pavilions? Being in bed with this man is going to be an interesting act. I blanched at the thought, sleeping with the blonde pretty boy who couldn't keep his dick away from my sister and God knows what other large hairy beasts was going to be a nightmare.

I closed my eyes and let his admiration slip through me. In the dark side of my mind I saw the rough blood thirsty Shinobi's hands guide over my frame and up my thin night gown as it had several days ago. "What is it about you that draws out of me this possessive and lusting side?" He whispered. The thought of sharing a night with Madara was far too tempting of an idea, it was only through my strong will power that I had kept my innocence this far.

I forced my eyes back open before I started to dream any father, even in my mind I was unfaithful. My...what I'd do to have him for one night though... Why am I being so ridiculous? I'm a Princess! An betrothed Princess of the Land of Fire, on my way to becoming Queen! The unfortunate universe that I lived in came rushing down upon me as I realized nothing I wished came true.

I was standing on a platform in the middle of the bridal shop with my fiancée at hand, the seamstress glancing at bay, and Madara sulking in the corner of the room avoiding eye contact with me. The Prince went on to praise my beauty and elegance but I heard none of it. My attention was purely devoted to the Warrior next to the strapless wedding dresses. He had his usual blue Shinobi clothes on and his weapon pouch to his side. Recently he had started carrying his Katana with him. Probably because of Haji. Madara hated that man with a passion, I couldn't tell if it was because he was jealous or overprotective. or both.

"Darling I'm running late for an appointment," My Prince bowed and kissed my hand. "I'll see you later." He informally stated, speaking unusually common for his typical elegant vocabulary. His blue eyes were glossed over as he spoke to me, he was obviously lying. Probably on his way to see my sister. Great, we haven't even married and we're both cheating.

Haji stopped mid strut to the door and smiled at Madara, "Keep her safe, my good man." He saluted.

Animosity burned in Madara piercing eyes. "I fully intend to." Haji smiled with satisfaction and exited the wedding shop. It was only once the door shut behind him Madara went on to say "despite the obstacles." I felt a chill ripple down my back as the words carved themselves ominously in the back of my mind.

Although Madara refused to talk to me these last few days, he was always watching me as if he were waiting for something. His cold bitter eyes were always empty, they neither held emotion nor reflected what he was thinking. He had reverted to his previous demeanor, the one he carried walking into the job. Am I only a job again? Did my rejection wound him that bad? I had tried making it up to him by creating large delicious meals with his favorite foods, but he ate them solemnly and without appreciation.

"I am a very ambitious person." Those words… he's either shut down or he's planning something.

The make up around my neck and down my wrists was starting to smear from rubbing on the dress. The seamstress is going to see the bruises… oh no. I had been wearing several layers of cover up over my body to hide the evidence of Madara's abuse. The bruises around my neck, face, and wrists were in their final stage of healing and were bluish-yellow, still visible but nearly gone. Although, my back had been healing extraordinarily slow from the scratches; there was nothing I could do about it except cloak it and lie to the seamstress. I really hope she buys my 'sharp nails + itchy rash' excuse.

"We'll just have to do a few alterations to make sure it fits properly." The gray haired seamstress warned as she fitted me tightly into the terribly gaudy dress. Ruffles, puffy sleeves- embroidery? This is absolutely ridiculous.

She was vicious with her needle as she stabbed me multiple times. I yelled out in pain earning a valiant smirk from the man in the corner of the room; apparently karma was doing me justice in his eyes. He was looking down at his feet with his bangs hanging over his face pretending he wasn't paying attention to my torture. "What are you smiling at?" His smirk grew into a teeth and cheek grin. Madara shook his head and kept his gaze at the floor. "What?" I crossed my arms and faked an angry sneer.

"Please stop moving your majesty." The seamstress begged.

"Madara look at me," he shook his head violently and bit his cheek. "Your Princess commands it." I pulled out my ace. Haha, you have to obey me now! The body guard held his breath and reluctantly looked up, his obsidian eyes widened in shock or is that amusement? He turned around instantly to hide the idiotic look on his face and held his chest with one hand. An earth shaking laugh erupted from his vocal cords; he was unable to hold it in any longer. My dress proved to be ludicrous enough to make a discipline Shinobi turn into gut snickering child. Finally I can hear that laugh again. I almost missed it.

The seamstress 'hmphed' at his rudeness, "is there something you have to say, Uchiha!" She snapped. The people of this area didn't look at Shinobi very highly. Madara wasn't making himself anymore likeable by poking fun at her handy work, but that's how he was programmed; he aimed to find peoples weakness's and exploit them.

"That dress should be caged in a zoo." He wiped away tears that had slipped out from laughing so hard.

"Well I never!" She bit off. "This is a dress befitting of a Royal Princess!" I looked back into the mirror and grieved. She was right. I didn't even need my tiara to prove my royalty in this dress. I was a regent when you gazed over the surface, but behind the silk and gems I was but a half-blooded bastard with an empty heart and a broken sense of security.

The Uchiha rolled his eyes at the seamstress and went back to his post, glaring intently at his feet again. "Pfft, whatever."

"Madara you're wrong," I whispered. He looked back up and met my eyes- they were harsh and frigid at first as if he were meeting a stranger. "It should be in a museum." His eyes warmed up like coals on a fire. The special thing about him was even without his Sharingan he had impeccable eyes. He could see beneath the riches that I was dressed up in and past the rags I was born to. In his eyes I was something deviant and fascinating, something that could be loved and needed.

My seamstress threw her sewing kit on the ground, "Well your majesty, your Prince was the one who designed this dress. Do you suggest something different?!" I shrugged inside the massive sleeves, pushing the fabric up to almost hit me in the face. This dress is a metaphor for my life, I might as well wear the irony.

Out of his mind bored, Madara sighed and disappeared into the isles of wedding dresses. I couldn't tell if he was on the hunt for something specific or just bored enough to actually look at the copious amounts of garments. All I could see of him was the top of his black spiky hair that poked up from the top of the racks. Occasionally I'd hear something drop or crash, earning a grunt from the seamstress, "can't bring a bull into a china shop."

That is a perfect comparison.

The bodice was already altered by the time he came stumbling out of the infinite maze of dresses. He looked as if he had just returned home from war with his tired eyes and the way he looked battle torn. I had half expected him to come back with some war trophy, but his hands were empty. He drifted back to his post next to the strapless dresses and rested his back against the wall. He looks defeated?

A ding came from the door as a woman, who was most likely another bride, walked in with her face hidden behind a compact mirror. She was fixing her heavy amounts of eyeliner while waiting next to the cash register. "I'll be right there!" the old women at the hem of my dress announced.

"One moment, Princess," She frailly stood up from her kneeling position and a crack came from her joints. I internally shivered at the sound. I don't ever want to be that old. Perhaps Carla will save me from that terrible fate! Bet she'd keel over if she knew she was doing me a favor by leading me to an early grave.

The Bride greeted the seamstress and closed her mirror causing a light to emulate from it just before she dipped it back in her purse. The light reflected against the dress rack to Madara's side and caused half of his face to glow as one dress with embedded jewels lit up. The flash of light launched him out of thought and raised his Shinobi instincts to high alert. He turned his head to see where the brief prism came from.

The culprit was immediately to his right, he unhooked the dress and gazed at it favorably.

In his hands he held up a white sheath wedding dress with ingrained crystals on the bodice. He expressed a reaction I rarely saw, surprise. It was strapless and formed to fit around the waist and the hips snuggly. The small bits of lace that veiled over the sheer fabric was the perfect addition to the ensemble. It was in fact, perfect.

I raised my hands to cover my mouth, "oh…" I trailed off. Madara smiled triumphantly, knowing he found the perfect one. I walked off the platform gaining a ripping noise from the train.

The seamstress who had just handed the women her ordered package was waving her off as the alerting noise shook her. "No, you've ripped the seam!" She turned around and came running to my side. She examined the damage with what looked like a tear in her eye. Oh no I tore a Ruffle...darn.

I took the dress from Madara and held it speechlessly grazing my hands over the jewels and watching the sun reflect against them.

"That?" The seamstress's calloused eyes filled with betrayl as I lusted over another dress. "That is not a dress for a Princess to be Queen!" She shook her head at me and tsked.

"That's the point," Madara declared without taking his eyes off of me. There was something on my face that he found irresistible, but I didn't bother figuring out what it was. I couldn't stop looking at his plunder.

The seamstress quickly looked to me for support, but I had no intention on defending the Prince and her's atrocious design. "Well I never!" She stomped off to the back room raging and screaming. Several items smashed behind the closed door, but neither my body guard nor I hear it.

"You like it?"

I nodded almost in tears over its awe inspiring beauty, "I love it so much."

He took the dress from my hands and put it sloppily back on the rack. "I like it too," He smiled down on me. "I thought while I'm here I might as well find a dress to bring back home and store for when I decide to marry. I'm sure my future wife will love it too."

He gave me an overly amused reaction as I held my empty hands out as if the dress were still in them. Tragedy washed over my face, taking all the joy with the wave of emotion. "Why would you show that to me and take it away?"

"Because," he looked away indifferently. "I doubt your fiancée will like it anyway." He patted down the poufy sleeves that popped up again. "He like's this though."

How dare he treat me like this? "He does," I said trying to not let him get to me.

I turned on my heel and walked away from the maddening man, tearing my way out of the dress in my fit of rage. "What are you doing now?" He rolled his eyes at my childishness.

I pointed at him accusingly. "Go back to being silent, you were nicer that way." I was in my wedding night slip now. He masked his surprise poorly as I demonstrated how improper a Princess could get in public. My breasts were constricted in a lace fabric that wrapped down just to the top of my upper thighs. My legs were covered by white thigh high stockings that connected to the built in garter.

I threw my sundress over the lingerie and left the torn disheveled wedding dress to lie battered on the ground. I stomped out of the wedding department without my escort and made way down the busy town road. "Slow down, woman!" Madara ran up behind me.

I continued at my pace back home and ignored him. I can't believe him, this is not my fault. I have no choice in this marriage; it's my duty to marry Haji. Madara just wants to use me, he's already made it very clear he has no use for a wife or any such relation. His copious amounts of women are good enough for him! All he wanted to do by showing me that dress was to frustrate me and make me angry.

As soon as I entered the castle I was bombarded by my father. "Bell!" He called from the sitting room. What now! I walked in with Madara in toe. Carla sat on the loveseat as my father chilled on the sofa with the twins. He was with my half-family, all of them- but one. Beniko was missing, and it wasn't hard to guess where she was. None of my family members seemed concerned as to her activities, rather her mother appeared to be abundantly happy about something secretive.

"How was the fitting?" He smiled.

"Horrible."

The twins giggled as Emi rudely sneered, "let me guess, they had to special order your size."

I shook my head and gave her an annoyed reaction, "Emi, I really don't want to listen to your shit today." I wasn't one to swear, but on occasion when tempted I could be quite vulgar. It wasn't a pleasant way to get a point across, and it really didn't help my cause but it feels so nice to vent once an awhile. I hate caging in all of my spite.

My step mother's cold eyes turned on me and she was up in an instant with her hands up in the air. "Do you hear how she speaks to my daughter!" she screeched at my father.

"Shush women," he waved her off. "Emi started it. Obviously Bell is tired from her wedding duties this evening."

Carla squinted her malevolent hate filled eyes and brushed back her dark purple hair. "My daughter doesn't start things, she's a good girl." The twins were nodding along with their mother. "Your daughter should be punished!"

I have 5 days left here, you know what... I think I'm going to let it out. Before my father could even answer to his wife I was picking up the closest breakable thing and throwing it against the wall next to her head. "Shut the fuck up!"

Everybody in the room cringed at my outburst. "I have had a very bad month because of your fucking bullshit, I'm getting the fuck out of here and I'm not coming back. Isn't that good enough?" I rhetorically asked. "No of course not, because bitches never quit their yipping. You're a pathetic little poodle that needs to get fixed, because all you do is reproduce more bitches you worthless-"I kicked the decorative desk to my side pushing it to the other side of the room.

My father was speechless; Carla was red faced while the twins looked down in shame. They were too young to have any mature emotions such as hate against me, they only followed the example their mother and older sister presented.

I didn't bother waiting for Carla to pick up the closest cliché insult off the ground. Quickly with Madara in toe I escaped to my bedroom. He was silent, and I presumed simpering like an idiot. I didn't bother looking at him. I needed to be alone, and his silence was the closest thing I could get to it at the moment.

Madara sensed what I needed and locked the door to the bedroom.

I lied belly down on the bed and hugged a pillow underneath me. Banging came at the door moments later. The sound of scratching followed each thud, I could tell it was Carla knocking her fist full of rings on the door. "Open this door you little bitch, I have something to say to you!"

I rose from my bed ready to approach her but Madara signaled for me to sit down, "forget about that cunt. I sincerely doubt she could break down the door." My eyes went wide at his language, those are fighting words. Too tired to care anymore I went back to sulking on my bed. "I'm proud of you for standing up for yourself." He spoke over Carla's pathetic shouts.

In the end it's going to end up biting me in the ass. "I'm going to bed early." I muttered as I got under my sheets. Carla's going to make tomorrow hell.

"You're still wearing your day clothes and it's only five." He reminded me from his chair.

"I don't care, I just want today to be over with." I tuned out my half-family and let the world fade away.

My body wouldn't allow me to sleep with the sun still up, I wasn't programmed to be lazy. I needed to move around, I couldn't sit in one spot all day nor could I force my body to rest.

I stood up frustrated with the turn of events, I never thought she'd get so mad about the dress thing. Although it was totally worth working her up to see her snap at the old bitch. I remembered how quickly she picked up that vase and smashed it next to her head. Our training had done wonder for her speed, although she still needed to work on that aim.

I opened the door to her room so I could stretch my legs a bit. I only intended on a short walk down the hall but that damned Prince's voice lured me farther from her than I was comfortable with. He was in Bella's sisters room speaking quite loudly behind the cracked door. I peeked inside and saw the two in the midst of a serious talk.

"You want me to what?" He snapped at the fat elder Princess who sat proudly on bed.

"Do it for me, her body guard is contracted till her birthday. Once you get married and the contract expires kill her. My mother and I worked out the details and everything!"

He paled and held his head in his hands. "Oh dear, she's such a pretty girl. I don't think I could."

"For me?" she whispered and stood up from the bed. She walked over to him and pulled his hands into hers. He looked into her eyes and sighed.

"Alright," he pecked her on the lips.

I knew they were up to something! I felt my blood boil in my veins and my Sharingan activate with full fury.

I was employed to handle all threats…