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chapter 4

My father insisted that all of his daughters were aided in their daily washing and dressing, the ladies in waiting happy to assist us. But I despised it, not wanting their assistance; or their scrutiny as their eyes roamed over my bare skin. Judging every curve and dimple that played across my frame; never understanding why my father insisted on everything being done for us. However, my sisters and I had no other choice but to accept it, most of the time anyway. I knew that Derrick (my guardian) would be displeased with me denying the ladies in waiting access to me when they came, but allowing them to aid me always felt so wrong somehow; like they were taking away my modesty.

Today I wished to do it all myself, without the judging eyes of my father’s employees gazing at my body; their seemingly dull movements grating at my mind. I had always felt degraded to have them around, knowing that they constantly stared whilst they washed my body and fitted me into my gowns. After all, I was both old enough and knowledgeable enough to do it myself.

I carefully pushed the steam from my large vanity mirror as I wrapped the towel tighter around my small frame, barely able to see the form that stared back at me in the glass.  My deep coppery hair cascaded in damp waves down across my shoulders, moulding with my pale skin as it slipped down my back. The bright colour of my hair caused my skin to look almost white, the shade white and seemingly lifeless, the dark freckles around my nose and cheeks more distinctive. Though I was not the only one with fair skin, my sisters having a similar skin tone to mine; though slightly darker as they spent more time outdoors. Leaving me to my lessons in etiquette and mannerisms, yet; with all the time that I spent with my private tutor, I never seemed to get anywhere. To learn anything more than I already did about being in my standing of society. But I never fully saw the point, the hours spent learning how to stand or speak as my sisters did only drowning my mood in the urge to run; to escape from it all somehow.

I sighed deeply, noticing once more that my petite frame could barely be classed as that of a woman, what little curves and breasts I possessed hidden within the oversized towel. I had reached womanhood over a year prior to now, only; nothing had changed. From what I see of the ladies in waiting, at fifteen most had large breasts and prominent curves; when I had that of a small child. Making it seem as though I was barely a woman, not worth the time of many who came into my father’s court.

No wonder the handmaids look at me in disgrace – I thought bitterly – I can’t even grow breasts like a normal person; let alone act like a princess.

I looked away from my curves in anger, focusing instead on my eyes. I smiled at the light shade of baby blue, the colour reminding me of my father and his own eyes, though his shade appeared darker and more aged; changed somehow by his experiences of being king. Yet, whenever I saw him they gleamed with love for me and all of my siblings; his smile lighting up any room that he entered, comforting anyone who came close to him. But as a complete contradiction, my father’s voice bellowed, thundering through any room in the castle like a roar; capturing the attention of all those in the castle whose presence he required.

Drying off in record time, I stepped into the gown, careful to tie the small black sash around my waist. I giggled, almost childishly as I fell in love with the silky fabric, twirling in a small circle. It seemed strange to be doing it on my own for the first time in my life, with none of the ladies in waiting there to judge my every movement; their scrutiny never going unnoticed. I could act in the way that I wished without my behaviour being passed on to my father and guardian, the constant repercussions for my actions coming swiftly whenever I presented myself to the ladies in waiting in a way that was not fit for my standing; or even said something that they did not agree with.

“Wow.” I muttered to myself in amazement, slowly gliding my hand down the smooth and vibrant dress; utterly awed by its beauty.

The sleeves almost completely covered my hands, but with my small and slim frame; it was to be expected. I slowly dried my long hair, the task tiring and long as the thickness prevented me from reaching every strand. After which, I gently brushed the waves, the fluffy and soft texture appealing and easily manageable.

My head snapped towards the door as a deep knock came, snapping my attention away from my hair as I jumped; my pulse instantly increasing. “Sanctus? Open the door so that the ladies in waiting can enter.” Derrick bellowed commandingly, his tone deep and untamed. “This is not appropriate behaviour.”

My shoulders dropped suddenly, followed closely by my smile as I stepped towards the door, ensuring that I seemed presentable as I unlocked the small latch; tugging the frame open. I took a step back as Derrick entered the room a deep frown crossing his masculine features. He stopped only inches away from me, my head only just reaching past his elbows as he loomed over two feet taller than myself; causing me to feel intimidated as I pushed my head back. My guardian had flowing brunette hair that reached his broad shoulders, his eyes a shade of burning amber as he glared down at me; clearly disappointed by my actions.

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