Elena wakes up from a dream of darkness chasing her. The dream that she didn't think she'd have again, but she did have it, and this time it's so much scarier. She leaves her bed and heads toward the bathroom to wash her face. That's how intense it is.
She looks at herself in the mirror, and she sighs. She hates nightmares, especially this one. Is she going to be dreaming of such things from now on? Is she going to be suffering because of these fierce nightmares all the time?
What do these nightmares even mean? She asks herself.
She needs some fresh air; she needs the sun. She leaves the bathroom. She walks toward the balcony wearing a dark purple robe, and when she opens the doors and walks out, she lets out a loud breath because the sun, as always, calms her down.
She stands there with her eyes closed, and she lets the sun energise her; she's forgetting about the nightmare she just had. She's cool and calm, she loves the sound of the birds chirping and the morning in general.
Her quiet is interrupted when she hears something interesting, she hears something or rather someone, groaning, and she looks down to see what's going on. She sees a shirtless, brown skin boy with a silver colored buzz cut throwing his fists in the air.
It's Pierre.
"Now that's a sight for sore eyes," Elena says, smirking and then she rests her hands on the balcony, admiring Pierre as he trains without a shirt on. He's so handsome, Elena thinks so, beautiful even. He's the definition of the morning, the beautiful moon, which, by the way, she was shocked to notice the numerous stars at night, the sky is a deep purple, and the moon is violet.
So beautiful. Just like Pierre.
Pierre stops throwing his fists in the air, and he stands normally. Elena wonders how someone can be shirtless on a cold autumn morning. Well, he is an elf after all; they always put themselves in positions like this.
It strengthens them.
Pierre looks up to find Elena staring at him. Elena's eyes widen, and she squeals. Pierre waves, and Elena is standing there frozen; she waves back at him.
But awkwardly.
"Princess, you're awake!" She flinches when she turns around. Good, a great excuse to leave the balcony and find out there are people in her room. She leaves the balcony and gets into the room. She sees Adele in the suit she wore yesterday, but this time in a different colour.
This time it's yellow.
"Tonight is the ball, and we have to get you ready, which means you have to have a bath, and then after that have breakfast with your family, come back and get ready. It's going to be such a busy day today," she says, clapping her hands, and Elena just smiles.
It's going to be a busy day today indeed.
After having a nice bath and breakfast with her family, she's escorted to a room to choose what dress she will wear for the ball.
"Antoine Russell is a famous fashion designer who was nice enough to lend some of the dresses he's made. And there are a lot to choose from," she opens up the curtains, and Elena's eyes open up, and her jaw falls to the ground as soon as she gets into the room.
"Bloody hell!" she says, smiling at the many dresses in here. Adele was right, there are lots of dresses to choose from, they're all beautiful.
"So you mean I have to pick just one?" she asks, disappointed.
"No, two in case the first one gets stained," Adele confirms.
"Oh," she says in realisation. "Oh," she then looks and looks hard.
They are all pretty dresses, she just has to pick two, who knows, maybe one day she'll wear the other dresses she didn't pick, but now she has to pick just two.
"I pick this one." Her hand lands on a dress.
An elegant strapless ball gown in a deep wine or burgundy shade. It has a subtle shimmer, giving it a starry-night effect. The fabric is layered tulle with glittered accents, adding dimension and sparkle.
It's paired with long black velvet opera gloves. And under her diamond-heeled shoes.
"That'll be the backup dress."
"Okay," Adele says, nodding.
Then she moves to the dress she actually wants to wear.
"This one," she chooses.
This one is a striking black evening dress with a glamorous and modern twist. The bodice is strapless and fitted, creating a sleek silhouette on top. The skirt flows dramatically with layered ruffles and is embellished with subtle sparkles that catch the light, giving it a starry-night shimmer effect.
The high-heeled shoes are black and covered in glitter.
"Interesting choice," Adele says, nodding her head in impressed.
"Amazing choice."
"Alright then." She claps her hands, which she always does; she doesn't necessarily need her words to communicate when she has her hands. Her hands are enough to communicate with the maids on what to do.
The maids pack up the dress and the shoes, and they gently move them out of the room.
"Now, we have to get you ready for the ball tonight. Everyone's preparing for the big event, and it will also be broadcast on television for the world to see. You are going to be the main topic."
"Cool," Elena says. She's used to it, being the main topic is Elena's thing.
"But I would say you have always been the main topic since you disappeared. The world thought you died with your parents, but after your uncle announced that you were alive, the whole continent was in shock. You've kind of haunted the narrative."
Haunted the narrative.
Those are big words.
"Now millions of people are going to be tuning in to see you, the long-lost princess."
Millions of people.
Those are huge numbers.
She swallows nervously. This is going to be the weirdest night of her whole life.
The preparation begins, her hair is dry thanks to the cute wind fairy with a button nose, they use a hair waver on her hair and they decorate it with glitter, they put on her makeup nothing much, just light lipstick and eyeshadow, they give her diamond earrings, they make sure both toe and finger nails are well painted in the color pink.
The makeup artist then applies some pink blush on her face and then wills her to stand up.
"Magnifique!" she says with enthusiasm.
"Magnifique," Elena says, sharing her excitement.
"Time for the dress," Adele says. And they help her put it on, she puts on her shoes, and they place a diamond necklace around her neck. She's done, and she's ready.
"Ah, beautiful." The makeup artist says in perfect French.
"Come look at yourself in the mirror," Adele says, gesturing for her to stand before the full-length mirror. Elena gasps when she sees herself.
She looks like a princess; she looks like a real-life princess. She looks amazing, she looks fucking amazing.
"I look badass," she says, and the maids and makeup artist giggle excitedly.
"Time for the final touch."
"There's more?" she asks in shock because she thought they were done. Another maid walks in excitedly, holding a glass case, and in that glass case is a diamond tiara.
A princess isn't a princess without her tiara.
Elena looks at the tiara in awe.
"You have got to be kidding me!" she says, and then Adele opens up the box and brings the tiara out, and then wills Elena's head to the front, and then places the tiara on her head. She stares at herself in the looking glass, and she looks so unrecognisable.
"Ohhh, so pretty," one of the maids says.
Yes, Elena knows this; she's always known this, but right now, she doesn't just look pretty; she looks like a regal leader.
It's nighttime, and Elena has been anxious ever since; she never gets this way. She never understood why people got that way. When her classmates would fret when it came to a class presentation, or when some of the drama kids would have some identity crises before going on stage.
She's never been anxious until now.
This isn't just a class presentation or a theatre play; this is a ball where important people are here to see her. Unfortunately, she has to be anxious.
She wishes Alex were here, but she hasn't seen him all day, not even at breakfast, and Pierre as well.
The door opens up, revealing Adele. "It's time," she says, and Elena nods slowly and then stands on her feet, then walks outside. Two guards follow her as she follows Adele to the ballroom.
Oh no.
She just realises that she cannot slow dance, she doesn't know how to do that fancy waltz, she can only dance like Britney Spears, and she doesn't think they're going to be accepting such dances in the ballroom.
She thinks.
They stand behind a curtain, which gives Elena a little time to breathe.
"Okay, the ballroom is behind this red curtain, and you shall be walking down a grand staircase. Cameras will be on you, but don't fret, you'll be fine, I know you will." Elena nods, assuring Adele that she will, in fact, be fine.
"After the count of three, I'll pull the curtain."
Adele counts loudly, but Elena counts in her head.
Three
Two
One…
Curtains down.
Let the show begin.