A Queen's War

The Cat That Ate The Canary

It was a bright spring morning at our modest estate. I woke up to the sent of lavender, honey suckle, and warm fresh bread.

My maids swarmed around me in a hurry to get me washed and dressed. My head lady, Maritsa, was ordering the poor girls in her strict German accent.

"Hurry, ve must get ze Princess in her finest gownz and with the jewels! Oh, scheisse! The Jewels! Felicity, Felicia, fetch zem! Go go go!" She ushered the twins out the door in a hurry.

The poor little Italians barely knew any English. Just Latin, Italian and a bit of French and Spanish. They were only about thirteen so they'll be the last of my ladies to leave my service.

I bet all they understood was jewels. But they were smart girls, they'll complete their task.

While they were gone Maritsa continued to order the maids in German. I bet the English language frustrated her to no end. She was never very good at communication and didn't so much wish to leave my service anytime soon either. She intended to see me wed and with children before she'd consider it.

She was like a mother to me and honestly, I loved her like a mother too.

Before the twins arrived again I was properly washed in lavender and rose water. Then placed in a azul blue dress with pearls and golden lace trims. I can't say that I love the dress, as this is the first time I've ever worn or seen it since I bought it, but I didn't hate it either.

I was putting on my matching blue and gold heals when Felicity and Felicia arrived with jewelry on velvet red pillows.

"Your majesty! We have found your Grandmother's jewels!" They said in perfect sync. I feel like they practice how to talk this was just to annoy me.

I nod my head to them, "Place them on the vanity. I'd like you both to learn which gemstone goes with what outfit and color."

Maritsa looks to the to and barks out "And be careful!". She startled the poor things! Haha.

" Yes Lady Maritsa!" They chimed, once again, in perfect sync.

I roll my eyes and make my way across the room to my full length mirror that I love oh so much. It was like something out of a fairy tail my nanny would read to me back in Greece.

The mirror was taller than I, at seven feet and four inches. It almost reached my white ceiling. My maids and servants clean and polish the glass daily. A task that is both tiring and sometimes tedious. Around the edges was the beautiful golden frame with carved angels and saints.

My beloved Saint Mirror, that I love to admire myself in.

I do this every morning, have since I was first gifted the mirror for my fourth birthday. My half brother Nathan had given it to me, as a sign of "good will".

I used to stand in it and admire my ebony locks and icy eyes. Even then I knew I scared people. But as I had gotten older the more I was able to grow into my sharp features. The more womanly I became, the more pretty I found myself.

So now, here I stand once again, in front of my mirror. I pay no attention to the dress I am warring. Only to my face. To my eyes.

Sometimes whenever I look to close I feel as if something will come out and choke my ivory neck.

" Felicity! " I call, looking over my shoulder at the brunette Italian, "What's taking so long? " I ask.

She shakes in her, most likely leather, boots. She reminds me a lot of a mouse who gets eaten by the lion. And in that analogy, I am the lion.

I chuckle to myself and basically commanded her to adjust my corset loose. I don't like looking like a 14th century painting. Those poor poor women always looked so stiff and dead.