Author Note: I don't think I need to tell you what POV the chapter is on. The adventure begins...
I wake up, feeling the sun shine on me. I open my eyes and shocked to see a different color on my wall. I try to stay calm and slowly get up out of bed. I rub my eyes and yawn, stretching and shifting. "Pavlova." I groan, looking down, but see no cat. "Pavlova." I call out, but I don't hear a meow or see her come out. I start to get worried as I notice that my comforter is not the same color or pattern. It's covered in light blue fine deign with a a light purple background. I look up and around to see no coal on the walls, but a light blue with yellow trim and beautiful paintings, a window bench with light blue pillows, no toys and a desk filled with papers.
I hear the door open and turn to see a warm smile. "Good morning Miss." She looks like Trudy, in her mid 50's, fair complexion, wearing a orange dress with a green apron and a white hat. But when has Trudy ever called me 'Miss'?
"Trudy, where's Pavlova?" I ask her as I hop off the bed.
The woman gives me a confused look. "Who's Pavlova Miss? And my name is not Trudy, it's Mary."
How could she possibly not know what I'm talking about!?
"Pavlova, my cat. Where is she? She was on my bed late night, and now she's gone." I raise my voice a little, but keep my composure.
Her expression is kind, but still confused. "Miss Clara, you don't have a cat, you have a horse name Nymeria." She corrects me.
My thoughts stop and fall back on the edge of the bed. What? If this is true, where am I?
"Mary" walks over to me and holds my hand. "Miss Clara, you probably had a dream or a little spell while waking up. Although, I would love to have a cat in this house." She says in a sweet tone.
I know this woman doesn't look like the she would manipulate someone for their own personal gain. I take a deep breath and believe this, nodding my head. "I'm sorry Mary. I didn't mean to offend you."
She gives me one of the sweetest smiles I have ever seen. "It's alright Miss, come, lets get ready to go."
I get up and she leads me to "my" closet. She helps me get undressed from "my" light blue nightgown that I did not have on before, into a white, lace, linen chemise and white stockings. Mary laces up my brown, leather walking boots on my feet and helps with my corset. It takes five minutes, but I put on a white petticoat. Mary fixes the buttons before placing a dark blue gown over my head and on my body. She fixes the buttons behind again and hands me a beautiful, pink, cotton Redingote. But all of this seem familiar.
"When is the next performance Miss?" Mary asks sweetly.
I didn't understand what she was talking about, but I felt my mouth move to someone else's accord. "Two days at 7:00PM. I will be playing the role of the leading lady. My mind starts spinning. Why did I just say that?
"Come along Miss. Lets get you some breakfast." Mary replies.
I follow her downstairs and wait while reading a random book that I have no idea what it's about. After waiting for what felt like 20 minutes, Mary hands me a plate with bacon and eggs. I eat them, say thank you to Mary and grab a bag. I study it and raise an eyebrow. Everything is not at my accord. What is going on?
I walk out of "my" house and start walking down the road to somewhere. Ok, think girl: You just woke up in a different room, in a different bed. Pavlova is no where to be found, an old woman name not Trudy, but Mary, walked in the room and put clothes on me that I didn't think I own. Now, I'm walking to somewhere and don't know exactly where. I don't know where my parents and siblings are. This must be a dream. But why does it feel so familiar.
I pass by houses, children playing in the streets and adults talking and laughing. The morning looks bright and beautiful, with a hint of orange in the sunlight. I stretch my arms high over my head to reach a ray of sunlight, the heat hits my skin and tickles it as I walk across a road. I say hello and good morning to every adult I see and they reply back, "Good day Clara." I walk pass a bakery, bookstore, school building and barbershop. After what seems like a quarter of a mile of walking, I get to the steps of my "suppose" destination. I look up and see a ballet shoes on the sign and it reads "World of dance," quite a fitting name. This must be where I work or need to go. I open the door and walk inside, smelling the scent of mint and roes.
"Good morning Miss Clara." A man says warmly, walking up to me.
"Good day Sir Thomas." "I" reply back.
Wait! Living alone, no cat, different bedroom, walking to a ballet studio. Oh on! I'm in a dream of my book, The Commoner and The King. As I get dressed in a ballet tutu, I feel like passing out. I'm stuck in a dream of my favorite book. This can't be true, I need to wake up. I close my eyes and try to, but I open them to see the same wall in front of me. Maybe there is a reason? I take a deep breath and knew in my mind, I can't get out and need to go with the flow. I know how the story goes and need to get to the end. But I don't want to stay till the end, even if I love the story.
The two days of me reading yesterday when the same here. Filled with the getting up from bed, eating breakfast, waiting to the studio, rehearsing for Pavlova "my" performance that is coming up. It's that day in the book which I fear. My body is trembling when the carriage comes to pick me up for the performance at 4:00PM at my house. I wear a light purple dress with simple diamonds earrings and a simple golden necklace
When I get to the theater house, I get all dolled up in makeup and a fancy ballerina outfit. A white bodice with emerald and pink gemstones sewn on and a white and pink, soft, but puffy tutu with the same gemstones sewn on to. The pointe shoes are pale, but I would mistaken them as pink. In the book, the writer never said what type of production the ballet was performing, so I called it, The White Maiden, because I'm playing an unmarried women who wears white.
I'm a ballerina myself and love dancing. It's is my dream to dance on stage and never once did I feel frightened. Every move I make might feel painful, but happiness bubbles inside, being where I want since I was five years old. But as I spin, I try to look for the a certain lord in the audience.
After the performance, I kinda know what's going to happen, because I already read it last night. But Uncle Drosselmeyer always told me that things don't always goes as planned. I greet with all the other dancers to the audience who came to the show.
"Hello my lady."
My stomach feels like it will flip-flop when I turn around and see the man described in my book. Blonde hair, blue eyes, fair complexion, skinny and a nice jawline. "Hello good Sir, I am Clara Martin." I greet the stranger, but I know who he is.
"Allow me to introduce myself," He says with dignity, but a slight bit snobbish. "I am Herr John Schulz. I must say, your dancing tonight was absolutely beautiful. You must dance at my estate."
I knew where this was going. "I'm sorry Sir, as much as I love to dance, I don't do private parties." I say as the book said, as if I was programmed to say a script.
"Oh, I understand." His face might look sorrowful, but I notice a tiny smirk in the corner of his mouth. "But would the lady not deny a date later this week? I'm staying in town till next Tuesday." He turns around to a uptight looking gentleman, wearing a black suit and black pants. "Boris, come over here you lazy snob!" He yells.
"Sorry Sir." The man replies in a calm, but slightly panicked voice, shuffling over to us. Seems like the aristocracy and aristocrats haven't changed when it comes to patients and politeness to people below them.
It's Friday and it might sound fine, but I know what's to come and I don't find this a good idea, even if my character in the book thinks so too. "No, I don't date. I'm busy with work and I'm not ready for a courtship." I reply. I can't give up my life's work for a man.
His face becomes more disappointed, but I am unphased. "I'm sorry my lady, I wouldn't love to see you again." He makes a smirk that gave me shivers down my spine. "But you would look beautiful in the arms of a man. A wealthy man who could grant you everything." His tone is calm, but chilling. "Thank about it and I'll ask again." He sounds confident, but I roll my eyes as he walks away from me with his servant behind him.
Just like in the book, I talk to more people, change my outfit while thinking about the chilling stare and smirk of John. I tell Mary about him. She tells me what she's seen in the town. John is a wealthy and arrogant lord, who believes he is a descendant of the King of Belgium and vies over women who are like me. Beautiful, intelligent, witty and young. I did know John was older than me, but this was still disgusting to hear. I fall asleep after a nice dinner, wondering and fearing of what's going to happen next. I did read the book before, but it's been so long, I don't remember what's going to happen in the next chapter.
Author Note: Please review. I know I wrote this in a day, but I was bored and looking forward to this story for a long time.