When Dreaming Gets Drastic

“Princess Marissa, it’s time to wake up,” My lady-in-waiting Mary said. “You have a lot to do today, starting with a breakfast with your parents in the dining room in a half hour.”

I rolled over, grumbled an unintelligible response and sat up in my huge four poster bed. I looked around my room. It was a small room for the castle, but a larger than any normal peasants’ room. In addition to the bed, there was a large walk in closet filled with one hundred frilly, puffy, and pompous dresses along with a handful of my plainer well loved dresses. There was a large vanity and mirror; the vanity itself was covered with bottles, boxes and jewelry of all shapes and sizes. I swung my feet over the bed and was swept up in a whirlwind of ladies-in-waiting.

Twenty-nine minutes later, I stood in front of the huge oak doors leading in to the dinning room. I wore the plainest dress I could convince my ladies to allow me to wear. It was a teal ankle-length dress with a black sash around my waist; underneath were about ten layers of crinoline. On my feet I wore black heels. The ladies had curled my long blonde hair and pulled half of it back with a bejeweled clip. The ladies had put more make-up on my face than I ever thought possible. Around my neck was a simple heart shaped locket. Inside was a pressed flower given to me not so long ago by a boy who was very important to me.

Despite all the frills I was wearing, I felt underdressed as soon as I saw my parents. My mother looked like the storybook queen, perfect in every respect. My father was the perfect king.

“Good morning, Mother, Father,” I said formally as I sat down at the large round table. My parents sat at opposite sides of the table.

“Good morning, Marissa,” my mother said with equal formality.

“Marissa, remember you're eating lunch with the Prince of Wales today,” my father said.

“I don’t want to meet another stuck up, over-dressed prince from wherever,” I complained. In the past six months my parents had paraded one prince or high end noble in front of me once a week. I had rejected them all for various reasons. Some were stuck up, some were disgusting, and some were know-it-alls but most were some combustion of all three things. There was no way I was marrying any of them. Besides I had already picked the man I wanted to marry.

“Marissa, we’ve discussed this. You need to pick a suitable man to marry by the end of the year or your chances of marrying go down to practically nothing,” My father said in an exasperated tone.

“Why can’t I pick a man who’s not a prince or a high end noble? Why can’t I pick a man who doesn’t necessarily have your approval from the start?” I asked.

“He needs to be a prince or at the very least a high-ranking noble because you’re a princess. You can’t choose him on your own because I am your father and I will pick a suitable match for you. I’m only doing these things because I love you,” My Father said.

“Whatever,” I said, getting up from the table. “If you truly loved me you would trust my decisions.” With that, I rushed away from the table and my uneaten food. I scurried upstairs to my room.

In my room, I threw off my dress and grabbed my favorite light blue dress. It was free of frills and bows. On my feet I threw on my well loved-black flats. I left my hair and makeup as it was because it would take too long to undo it all.

I rushed down the three flights of stairs to the kitchens. I grabbed a roll and rushed back out. I ran to the stables where the unicorns were kept. As I approached the unicorn stables, the guards opened the doors thinking I was going to ride one of the majestic animals inside. I walked inside and half ran down the row of stables that held the pure white creatures. The unicorns had shimmering white coats and long white manes. As the light hit their pelts, they glistened with all the colors of the rainbow.

I walked to the very last stable on the right. Inside was a unicorn, but that wasn’t what I was looking for; what I was looking for was the man brushing the unicorn. His back was to me and he hadn’t heard me walk in either. I stood there for a moment taking in his tall, muscular frame before I said, “Owen.”

With that single word he turned to face me and I threw myself into his arms. My lips and his collided in a moment of pure bliss.