Mondo Pastello ♕

I wanted nothing more than to tell everyone that my life was completely normal. A normal bedroom covered in my personal mess, normal strict parents who had occasional fights, normal friends who I confide in and normal teenage struggles with school and romance. Unfortunately, although somethings resembled the normal life of a teenage girl, mine was much different.

My bedroom was covered in silky velvet fabrics, ranging from luxuries red to royal purple in colour with a price range that of a permanent house and the space resembling that of the entirety of a spacious apartment.

My parents were nowhere near mediocre as their day job allowed their backsides to rest upon thrones and their heads to adorn gemstones worth unthinkable amounts of currency from any country.

I had no friends, period; as it was strictly unthinkable to waste so much time on commoners who did not respect my very existence and it was advised that I should rather surround myself with the next generation of noblemen. I disagreed the proposition.

I was disallowed to attend public, or even private schools and instead I received home classes on the subjects I was deemed needed to have. Not all of these classes I am keen about and prefer to skip the unlikable ones on a regular basis. My parents are not too satisfied by my actions.

When it comes to my romantic interests, it is not what all would expect. Even though my parents dislike the notion of it, they allow me to leave the palace whenever I please as long as I return before a given time and complete all my duties beforehand. They know that restrictions would worsen my obedience, and I appreciate their understanding over the fact that I cannot be demanded to stay inside when I do not desire it. My freedom is much deserved, after all.

Because of this, I had met some people who had not the slightest clue of my identity. That was to be expected, of course. Ever since my birth, and the same with my younger brothers, we were kept completely secret from the public. The media is aware of our existence and our names, but nothing more. It is intended that when I am Crowned Princess, then all our faces will be shown to the world for the first time. But until then, no one knows of me and thus I can roam freely in the open world.

I do have bodyguards each time I leave, but they are instructed to stay out of my personal affairs and thus only watch from afar as if a normal passer-by. I have also befriended the bodyguards, and thus they would never disobey me and tell of the secrets formulated upon my leaving of the palace. One such secret was of the boy I had grown fond of: Caleb Adams.

He was my boyfriend of three years, yet I still kept my identity a secret from him as I am bounded my law (my parents had me swore an oath in front of the church) to not speak of my heritage until I have a crown on top of my head, not on my forehead. The same went to anyone associated with me within the palace walls.

It truly felt horrid to keep such an important side of me; especially since he only knows me by my alias. Alice Coleman. It is the name I adorn as soon as I set foot outside of the royal grounds, my real name unknown to the boy who whispers loving confessions in my ear. It pains me greatly.

I had met Caleb the very first time I had set foot in a park when I was twelve, my bodyguards disguised as my caretakers. He was near the duck pond, taking photos of the adorable creatures when I had inquired him of his actions – he was lying on his stomach in the mud to get a better angle – and that was when I learned of the interesting fourteen year-old. His love for photography fascinated me, and I returned to Caleb’s side to initially learn the ropes of taking such breath-taking images. I was a failure at the art, but it was nowhere near in vain as I had fallen for his personality and his ability to always make me smile. Twee years later, we became official.

He was now nineteen and was at his first year in college, working to get a photography degree. I support him wholeheartedly and was glad that he got to pursue what he loved. Not many had that opportunity. He also had a job as an assistant photographer at a modelling agency his father worked at; the recommendation getting him the job. But because of this, the time we spent together began to decrease. It also did not help that I was being prepped for the crown, which took twice as much energy and time out of me as usual.

However, if there was one thing that remained a constant in my life, it was my ballet.

♕♥ ♕♥ ♕

“… two two three four… three two three four… four two three four,” the counting of my ballet teacher’s voice was the only mercy I could claw onto as my middle split was forced further than its intended hundred-and-eighty degrees; my one foot rested on another girl’s shoulder. I really was not intended for this kind of flexibility, especially for not that long. Four bars of four was quite long if she took a breath between each count.

“That’s enough,” there was a collective groan as the studio’s girls released their poor legs from each other’s shoulders. “Remember to prepare for Saturday’s open class. Everyone up,” quickly, and collectively, everyone stood and took on the initial posture: first position with feet, first with position arms. “Révérence,” everyone stopped to the right and bend their heads in a ballet curtsey, chiming the words ‘merci beaucoup’. Thereafter, everyone left to pull trousers over their stockings and some began to immediately take out the bun on top of their head. I preferred to pull a normal dress over my head and switch shoes before quickly making my exit.

Outside I was greeted by the immediate sight of Caleb’s mini car, making a smile appear on my face. He never fails to pick me up after my Wednesday class. I quickly pulled in beside him, and after putting away the assignment he was working with on his laptop, we were of.

“How was ballet?” was his initial question, but I could tell it was a bit dull today. I could see the tiredness seeping in him.

“Terrible. Madame made us practice oversplits and I am pretty sure my body was not intended for such abuse,” he gave a small smile and nodded, eyes focused on the road. I felt a bit awkward. “How was the lecture?” he sighed at this.

“My professor said that I need to be more creative for the midterm project, otherwise I would get a bad mark,” this surprised me.

“But I saw your initial ideas! They were beautiful! How can that not be creative?” he shrugged his shoulders.

“Colleges are strict when it comes to what they prefer to be art and what is not,” which to me, was completely unfair. I did not say it out loud, though. I could tell he was just as frustrated as I felt. He even more so, because now he had to find some new inspiration and quickly.

“There are only so many types of flowers in the UK that have not been photographed yet. Maybe you can find something with more diversity. Something where you can take your own unique perspective on the matter,” I offered as consideration. I really tried to understand how deeply photography meant to him, and guess that it rivalled to my feeling of ballet. He seemed to think over this, I could tell. His teeth caught his lower lip and I could not help but admire his adorable dorky appearance.

“Like a ballet dancer with purple hair?” he tried to lighten his own mood. I giggled at the attempt.

“Well Mister Adams, I am surely unique in that perspective,” I joked. When I was fifteen, I had dyed my hair a pastel violet and have not yet let go of the colour. You could not tell that my hair was once a caramel colour. I still do not know who was more furious: my parents or my ballet teacher. Eventually, both parties let it go and soon took my violet hair as a part of me. Madame once called me to her side and said that it made me seem more ‘me’, whatever that meant. I still had to wear a wig and fake bun when I was on stage. Caleb was all for my change, and after two years of making no attempt to change the colour, my parents began to realize that I truly loved it and it fit me. But would the Crowned Princess be applicable with purple hair?

“That is true,” Caleb nodded with a smile and continued to focus on the road to his house. He took a deep breath before starting a new topic. “Uhm, look Alice, I think maybe that… because my assignment…” I giggled at his nervousness.

“All is good. I know that you want to get it finished, so I will call Ian to come pick me up. We can hang out when you do not have life-demanding essays to work on,” I shrugged it off and he let a relieved sigh. Truthfully, I was dreading that we had to cut our meetings so short. I took out my smartphone from my ballet bag and quickly dialled Ian.

Ian, as far as Caleb was aware, was my foster father who took me in when I was young. Ian, in actuality, was a Royal Guard and my bodyguard. I trust him with my life. He acts as my guardian and even offers his real home as cover if Caleb ever asks to come over to my residence. Ian is truly dedicated to his job and his loyalty. As I dialled him, I know that he was probably in a car a few spaces behind us as he tailed us. I hate to put up such an act up in front of the boy I fancied.

“Ian?”

“Your Highness? Is something the matter?” I could hear the concern in his voice.

“Can you maybe come pick me up from Caleb’s place? I am feeling a bit tired today after ballet,” I could hear his sigh of relief.

“Of course, Highness. I shall take a detour?” he questioned. Of course his inquiry was valid.

“Yes, thank you,” the detour meant him taking longer to reach Caleb’s house so that it seemed as if Ian took off from his home and matched the time slot. Caleb was smart and would have questioned it otherwise. “Can we get smoothies on the way back?” I quickly added. I heard his chuckle.

“Certainly, Your Highness,” and with that I ended the call.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” Caleb apologized but I waved it off.

“It is no trouble at all. How many times have I had to blow you off? Quite a lot more than vice versa,” still, I could see he felt bad. We arrived at his home and I joined him in the living room. He still lived with his parents because it was convenient with the college near the house. He would do apartment hunting soon, however. Just after he had settled his laptop and work in the house, I heard the hunk from Ian’s car. No alone time, after all. Not even a little.

“I’ll see you… Saturday? For the open class which you’re dragging me to?” Caleb retorted as he stood over me, a solid eighteen centimetres taller than my short figure.

“It will be fun and amazing and you will be perfect,” I said, taking a step over to him as placed my hands on his arms. He smiled down at me, warmly, and dipped his head down to give me a quick yet embracing kiss. He pulled away far too soon for my liking. I punched his arm, causing him to recoil.

“What was that for?” he asked with a slacked jaw.

“That is good luck for the essay. You are going to beat it!” I expressed, punching the air in front of me as he shook his head in amusement. He escorted me outside and after greeting Ian in respect, I slipped into the car and we were off.

“Highness, what smoothie do you fancy?” he asked me as we stopped at the 24/7 café which seemed to serve any and all drinks.

“Rose and strawberry,” I answered after thinking. It was one of my favourite flavours. I paid for it myself and even got one for Ian, as I sympathized with his tedious labour to follow me around. It was not as if I stayed still in one place, after all. After years of him resisting my offers, he learned to accept my actions. He called me strange.

Unbeknownst to me, as I had my humorous exchange with Ian about gossip I heard from other ballet dancers whilst waiting for my orders, a certain café waitress with a gothic look to her appearance watched my figure with absolute awe.