I've never written a book centred around a royal character, so we're all in for a ride! In this book, the real British royal family (Queen Elizabeth II, etc.) do exist and hold the same titles as they do in current times. This is a work of fiction and accuracy is not 100%, so do stick with me. Inspiration for this book is from the film A Royal Night Out, but even then my book is very different from that film. I hope you all fall in love with this book as much as I have xx
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Pristine stiletto heels clap against polished marble floors, the sound echoing throughout the seemingly empty corridor and notifying those that my presence is nearing. Maids and guards alike part the hall as I turn the corner, their eyes darting anywhere but my face and their bodies bowing out of respect as I pass. To outsiders these responses may seem foreign, but for me this is what I've grown accustomed to.
With my head held high I push through the double doors of the living quarters, being greeted by a baren and silent corridor with four sets of doors, all closed. My hands open the first set of double-doors on the left, allowing me to slip in unnoticed. Looking around I release the heavy breath that I'd been holding; finally, I'm alone.
My shoulders are no longer held back as I take a deep breath and slouch comfortably. The shoes on my feet are immediately kicked across the room, landing in a messy pile in the centre of the space. A deep sigh leaves my lips as I tug my hair out of the tight bun atop my head, the pressure from the hairs being pulled ungodly tight finally dispersing into a wavy mess on my shoulders. These are the things I look forward to when I've finished running around carrying out my duties, responsibilities, and meetings with important faces that I'll forget the next day.
Being a princess isn't what it's all cracked up to be.
I've grown tired of the day-to-day life I live. For twenty-six years I've done the same mundane activities, my life lacking any real spontaneity. The early morning wake-up calls become a drag when you've done them as long as I have, the lack of privacy irritates me with each passing day, and don't get me started on those dreaded dinner parties I'm to attend frequently. I've never had a say on how I spend my day, my personal assistant drawing up my schedule without my knowledge. If I'd like to request some time to myself, I have to do just that, request it. Sometimes requests go denied or even when they're approved there's always something getting in the way. I should be able to have a say in what I do, actually I should have a lot more freedom than that but alas I'm stuck with cantankerous and wishful thinking.
My mother tells me that I have complaints because I don't have a true hobby that I stick with, apparently puzzles and Netflix aren't true hobbies; my father thinks it's because I refuse to take my duties seriously, which I disagree with as I'm the only princess in this palace that takes royal responsibilities serious; and my sisters, well they keep to themselves about these matters, for the better.
Quitting isn't in my blood, but I'm surprised I haven't given up by now, but with the weight of everything on my shoulders there's not much giving up I can do. I can refuse to leave my room or tend to my duties, but my father will have one of the guards break down the door and drag me out and, trust me, no one wants to see that.
For far too long I've dealt with the mundane, the schedules, the lifestyle, but I've come to the decision that it's time I do something about my unhappiness. One more day spent in this fortress with little to no contact with the outside world has me scheming and making rash decisions. I fear not of my decisions, even though I'll receive heavy scolding from my parents - oh well -, but of what will happen if I do nothing about my personal happiness.
I need to get away, get out, at least for a little bit. I need to experience the world with my own two eyes, without the observant orbs of many personal guards on me. Honestly, it's as if I live in a world where I'm constantly under surveillance; think the Truman Show, that's how I feel. I want to explore the city without a tight schedule I have to stick with and without everyone knowing of who I am and what I'm up to.
After months of planning, scheming, researching, and debating, I've finally figured out just how to do it... or so I hope.
"Princess." A familiar feminine voice calls from beyond the thick barrier of my door. My eyes flicker through the mirror of my vanity, the brown orbs rolling ever so slightly at the title.
Ugh, that term can is so overused around here. Princess this, your Highness that, just call me by my name. I'm a human not a glorified object.
"You may enter." I stay seated in front of my vanity, my eyes never leaving the reflective surface in front of me. I see the door behind me open and a tall brunette enter with a small smile and something concealed behind her back as she walks into my bedroom. I'd be worried of what she's hiding if I hadn't known her for as long as I have. She enters fully before shutting the door and approaching me. "What is it that you need, Charlotte?" Remember that personal assistant I was telling you about?
Charlotte has been working alongside me for years now, practically a decade by now. My father and our security team appointed her to me and at the time I was hesitant towards a woman five years my senior whom I'd never met following me around, but as time drew on I'm happy they assigned her to me. We were nothing but colleagues for the first few months of her employment, but we became really close. When you don't get out much, you don't make many friends; therefore your staffs are usually your closest friends.
"The item you asked me to order for you has arrived." A bright smile breaks out on my lips as I spin around in my chair to face the woman. My eyes take in the box that she pulls from behind her back and I notice the way it's already been opened, my heart quickening slightly.
"Did you open it?"
"Yes," a sigh of relief passes through my lips at her answer. I don't want anyone but Charlotte knowing of my plans; it would ruin everything, "I had to make sure that it was exactly as you asked and that there was nothing that could be a threat to your life." My eyes want to roll but don't, seeing as she was only looking out for my safety.
"Charlotte, it's a wig... that you ordered and it came to your home, how could that be a threat to my life?" I wonder, sliding the jet-black wig out of the box and running my fingers through the straight locks. The wig is exactly as I had asked: long, dark, and straight; completely different from my usual short ombre waves.
"You never know, Princess -"
"We've been over this, Charlotte. It's only you and I, you can call me whatever you please." I remind her, taking a seat at my vanity again as my eyes bore into the darkness of the wig in my hands. It's black like the sky on a clear night in June and exactly as I had ordered it, or rather how Charlotte had ordered it.
"Are you sure this is all a good idea, Mabel? It's just a wig, it won't conceal your identity much." Charlotte clearly isn't 100% on board with my plans, as she's been trying to stop me from scheming for months now, but I'm persistent and her boss so there hasn't been much she can do. Luckily for her, I've come up with a sure-fire plan that will work... or so I really hope.
"Did you bring the clothes I asked you to?" I ask, changing the subject. Charlotte nods and saunters over to my entirely too big closet, pulling the doors open. She waltzes in and I follow in suit, watching as she crouches low to open a drawer that's usually reserved for scarves and accessories of that nature.
"A pair of ripped denim, a tee, a pair of sneakers, and a cap." Charlotte leads me out of the closet and lays my clothing, or rather her clothing, atop my silk sheets. My eyes take in the clothing items for me to wear, most of them foreign to my wardrobe.
I usually stick to tea dresses, gowns, and pant suits when appropriate. There have been times where I get to wear less formal attire around the palace, but I've never gone out in public in something so casual.
Holding up the striped tee in my hands, I eye the material and feel the fabric. It's remarkably soft and as I admire the simple piece I can't help but let my eyes linger to the paper bag that held the outfit. The large print on the bag is foreign to me and it draws my curiosity.
"What's Primark?"
"It's a moderately priced clothing store."
"Ah."
I don't do much of my own shopping, if you can't tell, nor do I dabble in the world of fashion. My sister, Gwen, is the fashionable one between us three girls. When she's not busy with her royal duties, let's be honest they all fall to me anyways, she's actually quite the established model, giving her way more expertise on the subject of all that is fashion. I, for one, stick to my duties as a royal and those duties only, but in my free time I like to stay indoors, alone, listening to music. So when it comes to my clothing choices, I leave it up to the stylists we pay good money to.
"How moderately priced?" My curiosity gets the best of me and whilst I don't do my own shopping, I do witness the price tags on my clothing before I rip them off.
"The tee costs around £8." My jaw falls open as my eyes widen.
"Only £8?" A gasp of disbelief passing through my parted lips. "I think the least expensive tee I have in my wardrobe is around £75, and I thought that was cheap." A laugh falls from Charlotte's mouth and she quickly covers her lips with her hand, trying desperately to conceal the loud laughter. Despite my lack of knowledge on the real world I find myself laughing along with her; our differences can be quite amusing.
"Then you'll be just a shocked to learn that this entire ensemble costs less than £100."
"My Lord."
I'm not blind to the fact that as a member of a royal family I fall into a great deal of wealth, but it does shock me the amount of money we throw around on feeble things like clothing. This ensemble sitting before me looks quite comfortable and fashionable and it costs less than any of the shoes that I own.
The world be a better place if we gave more of our wealth away to the less fortunate; I do believe.
"What time to you plan on departing?"
"Half-nine."
My parents retire to bed by eight-fifteen and don't leave their chambers until morning, so I should have no problem with them witnessing anything suspicious. My sisters have gone to their rooms, which face the back of the palace, and hardly come out after they've locked themselves away. As for the staff: shifts change at nine-thirty, so between the chaos of the staff leaving and the new staff arriving I'll have a better chance of sneaking off.
"Mabel, are you sure this is a good idea? If you get caught you'll be in a lot of trouble, and I don't mean to be selfish, but I could be fired, if not worse." I wave my hand at Charlotte to stop her from talking. She does have a valid point though, my father could have her thrown in prison is he finds out about this, but I would never let that happen.
"I'm doing this, Charlotte, there's no turning back now. And don't you fret, if I get caught your name won't be mentioned in conversation. As far as I know, you know nothing."
"I know nothing."
"Exactly."
Charlotte opens her mouth to say something, but is interrupted by a loud knock upon my door, followed by the chirpy voice of my littlest sister. Both our eyes widen and in seconds we're scrambling to shove the evidence of my escape away from view. Not seconds after Charlotte has darted in the closet with the items of my disguise, the door flings open.
"Violet!" I scold with a pointed finger in her direction. "Don't you know not to enter someone's room unless invited in? I could have been indecent for crying out loud, or taking care of some important matters."
At twelve years old, Violet Armitage-Winfield, has never been one to follow rules too seriously. When she's in the presence of our parents and her tutors, she's one perfectly behaved princess, but remove those adults from the vicinity and she's wild and carefree. She's the cliche annoying little sister in every aspect, but I still love her to bits. I'm a little hard on her at times, but being fourteen years older than her, and next in line for the throne, gives me the right to.
When she's not studying in her quarters you can find her running about the palace with her wavy brown locks flowing wildly behind her. Violet's been scolded many times in the past for disturbing the staff whilst they work, but she is young and there isn't much to do stuck inside all day long. The times when she's allowed in the garden is when she's as much of herself as she can, running amuck, shouting nonsense, and even scraping her knobby knees.
"I'm sorry, Mabel." The smile falls from her lips and I find myself cursing to myself. I can never stay angry at her when she looks so sad, it tears me apart. She can get away with almost anything around here due solely to that adorable face.
"It's alright, Vi. You just need to learn to be more courteous." I explain, watching as Charlotte exits the confines of my closet.
"Ah, Princess Violet, I thought I heard you." Charlotte looks a bit frazzled as she joins us but hides it behind a bright smile.
Violet is completely oblivious and lights up at Charlotte's entrance, the two exchanging pleasantries before Violet is telling her of the day she's had. The two make small talk for a bit as I scan the room for anything that looks out of place. Aside from my chair before the vanity being pulled out and my shoes in the centre of the floor, everything is in order, exactly how I like it.
"Violet, is there something you need, or did you just want to visit?" My voice breaks through the barrier of silence I've been stuck in, gaining the attention of the two girls in my room. Violet blinks a few times and thinks to herself before gasping.
"Oh yes, mother sent me to collect you for dinner." Glancing down at my wristwatch, I take in the time and nod my head. My mother is a very punctual woman and when she says we eat dinner at seven, we eat dinner at seven.
"Then we shouldn't keep everyone waiting, should we?"
With a nod towards Charlotte, Violet and I exit my quarters and make our way towards the grand dining hall. My breathing remains steady even though on the inside I'm beginning to panic. I've waited for tonight for so long and I can't mess this up.
T-minus two and a half hours until my great escape.
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