Princess of Scourge: Coming of Age

I’m told I'm special. What that means I don’t know. Tonight I will turn 18 and for as long as I can remember my life has been contained within the dark halls of this palace. I’m told my mother died, and that’s why my father keeps me confined to the west wing of the castle. It’s lonely here. My room, while beautiful, has felt more and more like a prison as I age. The decorations in here feel outdated, I don’t feel they match me and my personality as they did when I was younger. Neo waits outside, as he always does guarding my bedroom door. He’s been my guard since I was child and is more a father to me than my own is. He refuses to elaborate on what is going to happen tonight- likely under strict orders from my father. All I know is that there will be a celebration in my honor tonight as I am coming of age- I don’t feel prepared for what is to come. It’s rare that I have interactions with anyone unfamiliar, let alone a grand hall filled with them. Father doesn’t often allow anyone into his castle and I can’t help but wonder why now? I know I’m ‘coming of age’ but even that has never been properly explained to me, I’ve been told that my mother would have explained it all and it has always been left at that. I wish she was here… I always do, and I wonder if she had been here would I be able to go outside, to explore more than the halls. The west wing is large, grand hallways that feel foreboding and intimidating. My room sits on the third floor in the furthest point to the west of the castle, it is the largest room in the west wing. The walls are light in color in my room, contrasting the gray and black decor that covers the rest of the halls. The pastel curtains, and bedding are an attempt to lighten up the room but for some reason the energy has always felt incredibly dense and heavy, Perhaps a symptom of how absolutely, mind numbingly repetitive life has felt– as I age and read more about the world in novels it’s difficult to feel like anything but a prisoner. “A bird in a cage… I think as I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My black hair falls to the middle of my back, and I stare at my blue eyes in my reflection, I wonder how different life could have been again– Pushing that thought away I wander into the bathroom and begin to prepare for another day, a mixture of terror and excitement washing over me as I wonder what tonight will be like. The last year my room and the library have been where I spend a majority of my time. Mixed in are my training sessions with Neo, we spar often and mixed in are other physical training sessions where I run, lift weights– it breaks up the monotony of my day to day. I think Neo knows that, and does his best to diversify the training methods. He’s told me he has two souls trapped in his body and owes my father a great debt but never elaborates further on the matter even when pressed. “Neo, I’m ready to train.” I call out as I walk toward my door. “No training today princess.” He responds, his kurt tone catches me off guard. “Why?” I snapped back. “The maids will be in to prepare you for this evening.” There’s a pregnant pause, the maids are here often to clean, but only me, neo and a few others are in the west wing. Neo breaks my train of thought, “Princess, are you ready for the staff to enter?”. Disappointedly, I answer, “I suppose I don’t have much of a choice, yeah– let them in.” I wander back to the chair in front of my vanity and sit down, as several women move into the room, one goes right to the bathroom and begins running water, the others are each carrying a dress and they lay them out on the bed. They fuss over me, undress me and make me sit in the bath- it smells strongly of lavender and thyme, I sink into the water and feel some stress drain from my body. The relief does not last long though, as the women grab a bucket and poor it over my head and scrub the scented oils into my hair. I dont contest them, and allow them to scrub me head to toe with rough sponges- they groom me thoroughly. Clipping my nails once I’m out of the tub, putting my hair up and weaving flowers into it. When they finish with my hair, they dote “Princess, you’re so beautiful,” I smile “You look just like your mother.” I feel a pang of sadness as I am reminded of my mother. I don't have a strong memory of what she looked like “You knew my mother?” I look to the woman who said it, she is a large woman, but has kind brown eyes. She smiles tenderly, “Yes, I knew her rather well, you have her eyes and your fathers hair…” She drifts off, I would like to ask more, but I know they will not tell me anything else. I look at myself again in the mirror, feeling unrecognizable from before. My hair is no longer flowing but done up in a bun made up of several braids with dozens of flowers woven into it of different vibrant purples and blues, making my eyes look more brilliant than they did before. I have a robe covering me as the larger woman gestures toward the gowns that are still laying on the bed. There are a variety of colors and styles, some look form fitting and others look like ball gowns from stories I’ve read in the library. Of all the gowns, one catches my eye, it is a black gown embroidered with colorful crystal flowers up the bodice reaching up and wrapping around the high neckline. There is a diamond shaped cutout on the chest, the skirt is so long it appears as if it would drag on the ground behind me. I point to it, “that one please.” Quickly the other gowns are removed from the room, and I am corseted into the gown, which only amplifies the excitement and anxious pressure I am feeling in my chest. “I’ve never seen you before.” I say to the large woman again, “What is your name?” She has kind brown eyes and brown skin and I think I would have remembered her, I don’t meet very many people. “She replies, Dorothee, but the other women call me Dot.” Dot, I smile at her, “Thank you, Dot, I hope to see you again.” She smiles, sadly. “Thank you princess.” She responds, and just as fast as the whirlwind of women occurred in my room, it is over and I am left once again in solitude. I sit alone and suddenly feel like a doll, all dressed up and pretty. I haven’t worn a gown like this since I was young, my regular attire being practical clothing, pants and long sleeved shirts, easier to train in and less of a hassle to remove.I stare at myself for a while, my pale skin looking almost reflective in this dress, I smile at my reflection I look beautiful. A knock at my door distracts me, I hear a gruff, familiar voice “It’s time to go, I’m going to take you to your father.” My stomach drops, I don’t see much of my father. He is an intimidating man, I dine with him once every few months but always in the west wing. “I'm going to my father?” “Yes, Lilly, come with me.” Using the name he used to call me as a child in an attempt to be soothing, “It’s time to go.” As he states that it is time to leave, the door opens and I wonder what the rest of the castle will look like.