One

I wince in pain as a tailor pokes a needle into my side. “I’m so sorry, your Highness.” She mutters, looking up at me for a brief moment.

“It’s quite alright.” I reply with a smile, and not my usual haughtiness. My maid Lalasah looks at me quizzically from her corner. The podium I’m standing on wobbles as another tailor turns me around to look at the mirror.

A soft lavender gown is hugging every curve of my body. My first ball gown. the reason for the ball is my coming of age. Being a fairy (and my mother and father being the King and Queen of the Forest.), the day I come of age is the day society sees me as a princess.

The tailors and maids look at me expectantly. I run a hand down the silky material of the dress. “It’s perfect.” Comes a soft voice from the doorway. My mother, Queen of the Forest stands looking at me. The maids scurry around me to finish the final stitches. Mother comes to stand behind me.

“Now that you have your firs gown, there’s something else you should have.” She pulls a tiara

out from behind her slender back. It’s silver, with soft lavender and green flowers, carved out of precious stones. It’s so delicate looking, and I am afraid of touching it.

Once the tiara is on my head of silver-blonde hair (inherited from my mother.) I can do nothing to stifle a gasp of delight. I turn to my mother and give her a small hug, only top be pocked by a needle.

As soon as I am done with my display of affection, mother draws back to the doorway. “I will see you tonight, at the ball, my dear.” She murmurs softly, and walks out.

Once my dress is done, I am back in my rooms with Lalasah. She picks up strands of my hair and turns them into unnatural curl. I hate this process. She then fits my first set of wings. Unlike some fairies that are born with them, we have to have our fitted. And they only last for about twelve hours. Twelve magical hours.

While Lalasah bustles about with my wings, I gaze out the large window in my room. Out beyond the walls I see a centaur, walking about near the river. Slaves. I sniff to myself. Yet, I shouldn’t be sour. This is my night. Nothing will ruin it.

The maid finishes up with all my jewelry and wings, and places the tiara in front of me. I lift it to my over-curled head and place it down neatly.

I am ready for my coming of age ball.

((Ok, I’ve been hatching this idea for the longest time, and I need opinions! Please help! Oh, and I will be writing Never Alone and the Captain’s Daughter 2!))