Royal Academy Diaries I

The Plain Ballerina ⚜ Ch. 8

Pernelle was, well, pernicious. Again and again she and her jealous friends left hateful letters in her locker, stole her clothes, even locked her in the classroom.

While Svetlana wanted desperately to be strong and believe that she deserved to be Raymonda, their cruel words began to wear her down, and her old insecurities screamed at her every time she passed a window or mirror.

Three days before the premier of the ballet, she was considering dropping out. She was certain her third year understudy would love the opportunity.

It was cold and snow was always coming down, and she was curled up by one of the large common area fireplaces. She was surrounded by cute couples, and it was making her sick. That was the feeling. Everything was wrong and she just felt sick.

"Svetlana?"

Oh no, of all people, no... "Prince Zivko? What are you doing here?"

"I heard you were sick," he said, coming around to face her. Upon seeing her eyes red and swollen from crying, he knew something more was wrong. "What happened? You've been avoiding me."

She looked away, ashamed and too choked by tears to speak.

"You can tell me, my lady. I just want to help you feel better." When she still didn't answer, he saw the despair. "Did I do something to add to your discontent?" the prince asked quietly.

Shaking her head, she pulled her blanket closer around her shoulders and hiding her glasses underneath. "I wouldn't know where to start," she said finally.

He sat down eagerly, and brought something around from behind his back. A teddy bear with creamy yellow knit. "They say his name is Whinnie the Pooh," he told her, grinning a little as he said it.

She took the bear, furrowing her brow. "Whinnie the Pooh... What kind of name is that?" she said, her voice strained from crying.

He chuckled quietly. "I have no idea." Again he leaned forward, wiping a stray tear. "They say he's exceptionally happy and a loyal friend." He smiled embarrassedly. "And all my friends got one for their girls, so I thought.... Well I thought of you." His green eyes bored into her chocolate brown and he asked her again. "Please tell me what's wrong."

She sniffed, and just started talking. "I've always been bullied because of my looks, I'm quiet and awkward, I'm in the classes for peasants at school, I'm from an irrelevant kingdom, I'm not pretty enough to be a lead, or a ballerina." A sob shook her. "I just wish I hadn't gotten the part. I never would have thought Pernelle would be so cruel..." Her sobbing stopped her from speaking.

Zivko gently lifted her chin. "Have you ever heard the saying 'Keep your head up princess, else the crown falls.'"

She pushed his hand away. "No don't do this. I'm not a princess, I don't deserve it."

"Why not?" he pressed.

Pernelle's words dug into her like daggers. "I'm a waste of breath."

His eyes widened. "What- Who made you believe this?!"

"I did. Look at me, this world is made of beautiful people. People like me don't-"

The prince grabbed her by the shoulders. "It is not your obligation to this world to be pretty, or to be royal. You deserve life and love as much as everyone. Stop letting these small minded, insecure kids ruin your life, and show them that you are just as good as them. Svetlana, I've seen you dance, you're even better." He gently wiped away her tears and put on her glasses. "As a prince, I hereby order you to never speak ill of yourself again."

His touch and command made her blush. "Yes your highness."

He sighed, leaning close to place a tender kiss on her forehead. The teddy bear was caught between them, and Svetlana pulled back to look at it. "I don't know the story that goes with him," she said quietly.

Zivko smiled and wrapped an arm around her. "Well, from what I've heard, Pooh loves honey. His best friend Piglet is a bit anxious, and there's another named Eeyore who's always gloomy. Tigger is energetic and Owl is the bookworm."

She chuckled at the strange names and descriptions. "Well then, I must be Eeyore."

"Then I'll be your Pooh, or Tigger, whichever you prefer," he grinned.

A small smile pulled at her lips, and she froze as he kissed her cheek.

"So, what's the next ballet?" he asked softly.

"Pharoah's Daughter, then Le Corsaire," she replied quietly.

"Hm. Maybe I could get the guys to come. They can't complain about athletic, lovely girls." He kissed her hair.

She chuckled tiredly. "So, clay or stone?"

The prince grinned. "Stone, definitely." Then he whispered, "Maybe I'll sculpt you someday."