I was a princess. I'm still a princess I suppose, you can't change what you are born as, but I really tried.
Why? you ask, well, you try being a princess. Thats all you are, thats all you can ever be. And its all people see you as. Especially the kind of princess I was.
My father was the King of Rubia, the eastern province. It is one of the largest kindoms of latoria. I'm the youngest of three children;my sister Katara, two years my senior, an the eldest Kian, who was first inline for my Father's throne.
Kian got all the education fitting for a king to be. he was tought to ride, fight, manners, ettiquette, deplomacy and all the ruling stuff you need to know (whatever that was). Father had brought him on foreign deplomacy missions since he was five. Kian was not so much my brother, as my fathers younger, darker-haired twin.
Katara, being next inline to Kian, was given some of the crown training, in case something happened to Kian. Mostly she spent her time with deplomacy, which I interpreted as talking (flirting) with as many eligable princes she could get her claws into. She was mostly in charge of being the main female representative of the kingdom. The people, and my father, called her 'The little Queen'. Ever since my Mother had died, when I was being born, she had adopted the role of queen. The court artist had drawn numerous paintings of her wearing a robe that was miles too big for her and my mother's crown lobsided on her head.
But, annoying as Katara can be, she was good at what she did. She had sorted many a local squabble with her well-placed words and looks. As brainless as I think she can be, she could tour with the best of the kings players (If she had an inclenation to give up the charms of royalty).
I, on the other hand, was the useless member of the family. I, who had no part to play in the running of the kingdom, I, who spent all my time supposed to look pretty and say nothing, I, who killed my own mother before I was one day old.
There were pictures of her in the great hall. I was nothing like her. Queen Katherine was tall and slender and beautiful. She had all these long blonde curls that cascaded down her back. My sister had inherited her looks; she was her split image, but with blue eyes instead of brown.
I have my mothers eyes, but with dark brown hair and without a curl on my head. It gets wavy when wet, and if I don't brush it dry, it gets as thick as a mane. I spent half my days trying to tie it back, well my maid did. I usually pouted. I'm good at that, I've got the lips for it. And the disposition. My brother got the wisdom, my sister the looks, and I got spoilt. Not that I knew it at the time.

"Corbin!!"
The kitchen clatter failed to drown out my nurses yell.
"Where's Corbin?" she demanded of the cook. They were an even match, with bad tempers and sheer body mass. Kitty , the head cook, frowned at her. She disproved of her coming down here; upstairs staff should stay out of the downstairs territory. Especially Mareen. My nurse was known to raid the larder at times. Both were self-proclaimed rulers of their territories, and had come to blows in the past.
Kitty scowled and yelled, "CORBIN!"
Corbin strode over from where he had been watching. He was tall and skinny, even at eight years old.
Kitty gave him a look, then nodded to Mareen.
"Its the girl again. Go with Mar, but be back in time for serving, we need all hands here."
Corbin tried not to grin with glee as he left the kitchen.
"What is it?" he said, glancing up at Mareen.
She looked at him from under her cap.
"Best you find out for yourself."

Corbin walked into the room and grinned widely. He put his hands into his pockets and looked up.
"What are you doing Kay?"
A young girl was perched on top of the mahogany wardrobe. She pushed her dark hair of her face. There were tear tracks down her pink cheeks. That was me, by the way. At seven or so. And fighting back at the cruelty of the adult world, in my way anyway.
Mareen stood at the door shaking her head. I knew she wasn't really mad. She loved me, she said so. She was laughing on the inside, I thought, and that got me madder. I threw a shoe at her. She caught it in her her hand and shook her head again.
"Is this anyway for a princess to behave? I'm going to help Katara get ready, and if you are not down by the time I come back, next person I fetch, will be your Father."
She closed the door as my other shoe hit it.
Corbin walked over and peered up at me. He had flour over his freckles.
"So thats what this is about. You want to go to the ball!"
I sniffed in way of an answer.
"Mmm hmm." he said trying to sound wise.
"I have my party dress on," my voice sounded all squeeky, "but they won't let me go."
Corbin was puzzled. "I'm not allowed to go either, and I'm not sitting on top of a wardrobe."
"Thats different! I'm a princess, your a kitchen-boy." I was pointing out an obvious fact, the way things were. But Corbin got mad, I knew this because his freckles got brighter.
I attempted to fix things.
"I um- I mean- because you have your own parties, and I'm not invited to them either." This added to my misery and the tears came back.
"You mean us under the stairs?" His tone was angry, and he started to leave.
"No wait!" In my haste to get down, my skirts got caught and I landed on my head. Corbin started to laugh. It was a deep chuckle, and to this day, it is the same.
"I knew I'd get you down!"
I would have thrown a shoe, if I had any left. He kept laughing. I was mad, this was obviously a painful point in my young life. Later I realised it was because I didn't fit in; above or below stairs. I was inbetween, but I think he understood.
"Tell you what, " he crouched down beside me. "You can come to the staff party with me. Its not supposed to be told to any of you, but thats toot."
"Country boy!"
"Tha's right. I am. Princess."
"Hey!"
A pillow fight ensued. I won. Corbin, smoothered under a rain of feathers, looked at me seriously.
"Why'd you want to go to the ball anyway? They look so boring."
"Katara gets to go all the time, and she's only two years older than me."
"Still, its just full of snotty men with pointy beards and frilly shirts, and women with dresses so tight it makes their eyes pop."
We giggled for a while. Nurse came back and Corbin was sent back to the kitchen with a plate of cake for his trouble.
I had to go to bed listening to the music and laughter in the gardens.