Caleb had to leave after two hours because of his day job. Even if he did work for his dad, I met him and that man has no mercy. If I had to say, he was even worse than my mother and that was saying something. Although the open class technically had already ended, I stayed behind because I figured that with my muscles already warmed up, it would be a waste not to do some additional stretching. Besides, I really did not want to return home.

I was busy playing with a language app on my phone, trying to get a head start before my next Italian lesson. The sooner my classes can end, the better. I was lying on the floor in a middle split, my stomach successfully pressed against the floor. It took a long time for me to be able to get my middle split flat, but after years I finally succeeded. When I had gone through puberty, all of my advances to gain flexibility were in vain.

“So was he really your boyfriend?” one of my dance mates who had stayed behind to speak with Madame suddenly jogged over, her feet bare as she rolled up her convertible tights to her ankles. I chuckled at her advances, knowing that she was the type for gossip. One would think ballerinas are innocent, delicate and fragile. Well that is only on stage, but offstage? We could not be any different.

“Why the interest Anna?” I knew why she was interested, it was because she wanted something new to spread. I could only be happy that she came to me, the source, to find out about it and not make up some story. Also, who was she going to tell? Who knows me besides the girls at the studio? And we have danced together ever since we leaped out of diapers into tights. I trusted them. Well, to an extent.

“Because he was hot. Where did you find such a fine specimen?” Anna was eighteen, meaning that she had a little problem. This was her last year before she had to make a final decision, and the half-year mark was closely approaching. Either she would have to go study to become a teacher (which in itself took about five years, and included internships at studious to raise experience. Madame did not allow student-teachers unless they were exceptional) or her real dream is to get scouted. Not to become a prima, but just to be a part of a company. She needed to get noticed, and there was not a lot of time left.

I was seventeen and the seniors of the studio are already advising me to try and get scouted, passing down their wise wisdom from experience. Unfortunately, even if my five year-old heart yearns to become a prima, it would be futile even to try.

Being a part of a company meant practice from approximately eight in the morning until six or later in the night each day of the week, never mind when there is a show present and the company has to tour. It is just too much work to be able to balance with the present and future work of my inevitable life: Princess and Queen Duties.

Nothing more will break my heart than having to give up ballet. I will have find a way, because there is no way I could survive without it.

“I met him when I was little and we came best friends. He asked me out about three years ago,” Anna gasped dramatically, placing her hand over her heart. That is probably an option for her: why not become an actor?

“That long? Are you hoping you two will get married in the future?” I frowned a little at here question.

“I’m still seventeen. I think if that ever becomes a possibility, it will be after I have turned a legal age, don’t you think?” I chuckled a bit nervously.

“Not necessary. If you have the consent of your parents then you can, or just go to Scotland. There you can marry when you are as young as sixteen without any consent,” she said almost matter-of-factly, and that made me wonder why she even knew this.

“Uhm, maybe not. I’d rather trust my eighteen year-old brain then my seventeen year-old. Who knows? Maybe I will grow wiser in a year. Besides, if we were meant to be, than we can wait a year or two more,” with that I picked myself up from the ground and pulled on some clothes over my leotard. Anna swayed on her feet, trying to find something to respond with. She had nothing to retort.

“You’re cute together, that’s all,” with that she pivoted on her foot and walked away, her loose ponytail swishing behind her. I was confused. There was a type of passive aggressiveness to her voice that I could not comprehend. Had I done something wrong?

All this talk of marriage lately had my head spinning. My opinion on the matter, truly, was that I did not want to get married until I was at least twenty-one. That way there is more time to discern who the one for me is and whether or not they would make a great King. Ian did not look impressed by the idea of Caleb as King, and that unnerved me. I truly loved Caleb and I cannot see myself with anyone else, not that I knew anyone else or there ever has been another. He was a calming and gentle person; surely my parents would accept him?

Was it because he was a commoner? Because this was modern times and if that was the case then there had be a few changes made. If we want to make progress, then by being stuck in the medieval times was not going to help anyone.

It was starting to get dark.

I texted Ian to fetch the car from the parking lot. Truth be told, I had no idea what Ian was doing throughout the entire ordeal. I think he was a part of the audience but after that he became one with the shadows and left me and the other girls to our privacy.

I think he was hungry.

Ian is a strange name for a ninja.

I exited the building whilst texting to Caleb, responding on a photo he send me of the modelling set they had to build. The things people did for perfection. As I pushed open the door and headed out, I did not pay full attention to my surroundings and certainly did not expect a girl to suddenly backflip off of the roof and land straight in front of me.

Not going to lie, I screamed like a damsel in distress.

I held my phone to my heart, trying to get my breathing ordinary as the gymnast from before stood up from her crouched position.

“Are you crazy?!” was the first thing I yelled, my heartrate uneven. I think it might have skipped a beat. “You could have killed someone! You could have died! The loving…” I peeked from under the balcony and saw the height she truly jumped from. “Were you trying to kill yourself?!” I kept shaking my head and paced around a little, trying to calm down. All the meanwhile, this lunatic girl wearing nothing but a leotard stood there with amusement evident on her face. She thought that this was completely hilarious.

“I’ve jumped from higher,” was all she said, shrugging her shoulders. I looked to her in disbelief.

“Onto concrete?!” she shrugged her head a little in thought before shaking her head. I regarded her with wide eyes and disbelief. “Bloody mad you are. Bloody mad,” I covered my face with my hands and took a deep breath before regarding her.

The girl smiled widely before walking towards me, stopping when she stood in front of me. She smiled even wider, revealing her well-groomed teeth. She struck out her hand, preparing to handshake.

“My name is Sarina Miller,” she introduced, her dark eyes gleaming with amusement. I shook my head once more before accepting her hand.

“Alice Coleman,” I introduced my alias, sceptical of this girl. She pulled her hand away and regarded me for a second more.

“I saw you dancing today. You’re like a professional,” I scoffed at her words.

“It is only experience. I saw your leap. It was so elegant and controlled,” she chuckled at my words.

“I think that’s the only thing I managed successfully. I was so stiff whilst dancing. I’m not really a performer,” she shrugged off, as if that leap was nothing more than baby steps to her.

“You are a… gymnast, right?” she nodded.

“Born and raised to be pulled in strange directions,” she rolled her eyes, almost irritated before looking to me again. Her eyes were so bright. “I love your hair,” she suddenly complemented. I giggled at her bluntness.

“Thank you. I love yours,” Sarina shrugged and took the tips of her pure black hair between her fingers.

“It’s as dark as my soul,” she said as if it was what she told everyone before taking a glance at my hair. “Yours is as light as yours,”

“I just like the colour. It is calming,” I smiled. “It’s… me,” I saw Ian’s car pull up from behind her and readjusted my bag on my shoulder. “Sorry… Sabrina was it?”

“Sarina but close,” she shrugged.

“Sarina. I have to go now,” I said whilst trying to look sad at the departure. She nodded quickly before pulling at her leotard’s chest area, removing a piece of paper and holding it out to me. I am not sure whether or not I should be disgusted or horrified. I stood frozen until she had enough and rolled her eyes at me. Forcefully, she grabbed my wrist and opened my hand flat wherein she placed the paper. She closed my fist.

I looked to her face with question, but she made a telephone with her hand and was busy shaking it next to her ear.

“Call me, yeah?” and with that she ran from my figure, but as she ran she suddenly stopped and did a little hop before continuing to move away whilst doing back handsprings on the concrete. I winched at the idea of the abuse her hands were taking. Quickly shaking my head, I headed to the car and home was the destination.

♕♥ ♕♥ ♕

“I am the Crowned Princess,” my Italian tutor stood in front of me, instructing me to translate the words she was saying.

“Sono la Principessa Coronata,” I answered back, bored and tired. We were in my private study, my feet propped up on the table in a very unladylike fashion. At least I wore trousers.

“Very good. I am the Queen,” she intrusted me, trying to remain calm with my disrespecting manner. Truthfully, I did not care as much. I was irritated at having to do this after the sun has already set.

“Lo sono la Regina,” I threw my head back, letting out a groan of utter despair. A knock came at the study’s door, and in that moment I became utterly thankful for whoever provided the interruption. “Enter!” I called out. The door swung open and there he stood, in all his glory, my father the King. My tutor immediately rose to her feet and bowed down deeply.

“Your Majesty!” he dismissed her, entering the study as she quickly excused herself. Now I was left alone with my father, silence surrounding us. Very awkwardly, I removed my feet from their position on top of the table. He could only sigh at my actions, taking the seat in front of my desk which was previously occupied by the tutor.

“You seem troubled Melanie,” was the first thing he said to me. My immediate response was by groaning in trouble.

“It is late. Why do I have to do this?” he shook his head with a small smile.

“Your advancements are coming along quite nicely,” he dodged the question. I bent my head down a little, as if out of shame. My purple hair swayed in front of me. I debated asking him my questions with much needed answers, my fists gripped together tightly beneath the desk. I took a deep breath and swiftly looked up, summoning up the courage.

“Father…” but I was caught off when he took the tips of my hair into his large, rough hand. He pressed it against his fingers, feeling the texture.

“It is unbelievably soft. I can no longer imagine you without this hair,” he said ever so softly. I bit down on my lip and decided that it could wait. He seemed a bit troubled today. “But, as much as it saddens me, it is unbecoming of a princess. Before you are crowned, you will change it back to its original colour,” he said as if an order, leaving no place for successful argument. He swiftly stood up and turned to leave, leaving me with a slacked jaw and a part of me saddened.

“Dad! No! This is unjust! What does it matter? These are modernized times and our regulations must evolve accordingly,” I tried to rationalize, rising to my feet, trying to find the words he might want to hear. He stopped at the door and took a deep breath. He cast a glance over his shoulder at me, his crown glittering on top of his head.

“I am sorry, Melanie. But that is how it must be done. We cannot change the order of the world,” he left, leaving me to my distressed state. I did not want to change, I would no longer be myself. I fell back into my chair, shaking my head in utter disbelief.

♕♥ ♕♥ ♕

Two doors down, having just overheard the conversation they were not meant to hear but frankly had no care anymore, stood the Princes Cornelius and Bartholomew with saddened eyes.

“Dad’s being unfair,” Cornelius whispered to his other half with spite in his voice.

“Mom’s being unfair,” Bartholomew responded with distaste on his tongue.

“I heard that they want to move up the coronation to the day after the performance,” Cornelius shared the gossip he had heard.

“You mean the Royal Variety Performance?” he nodded in confirmation at his brother’s question.

“Yeah. They want to go through with the performance with our identities a secret and reveal it the very next day. How unfair is that?”

“Totally unfair,”

“Unjust,”

“Unbecoming,”

“… stupid?”

“That as well,” silently slipping away, the princes headed down the corridor. They weaved through corridors whilst dodging any Royal Guards, successfully making their way back to their joined room without anyone suspecting their absence.

They were rather sly for their age.

Then again, as toddlers it was not a surprise if the princes would disappear and be discovered an hour later on the other side of the palace. The princes knew the palace’s layout inside out, and that made it easy for them to escape any situation. They used their knowledge to their advantage.

And now they would use it in their plan.