Stained Glass

A gentle knocking at the door caused the young princess to stir. She opened her eyes for a moment to look at the door, groaned, and rolled onto her other side. The knocking came again only this time louder and more demanding.
“Not today, come back tomorrow,” the princess groaned. She had lessons today and although she loved learning she just didn’t want to go and sit in the stuffy library all day. It was her birthday after all.
“Genevieve please, if you don’t come out I’m going to have to get your mother,” the maid said through the door. Genevieve bolted upright and threw off her covers. The maid could hear the frantic patter of the princess’s feet against the wood floor as she rushed to get her cover on. The steps grew closer as the princess came to open the door. The bolt clicked and there she was standing in the doorway, a disheveled groggy mess.
“Happy Birthday miss,” the maid said. Genevieve smiled a faint and sleepy smile before moving aside to let the maid in.
“So now that I’m 16 can I call you Clara without you flinching?” Genevieve asked playfully. The maid turned and smiled, her blue eyes bright against folds of aging skin.
“Miss we still have to maintain a level of respect for each other, as your father stresses severely. Once you’re 18 you may call me by my name,” she said turning away from the princess and going about getting things ready. Genevieve sighed and crossed her arms over her chest in a huff.

Genevieve studied her face in the mirror as Clara put up her hair. It was only lessons today so a simple braided bun was being crafted. Her face didn’t look any older, although she figured how much older does one look at 16. She figured she was a fair maiden; she had big hazel eyes and full lips. She had her fathers nose but that hardly detracted from her beauty. She was starting to become overly critical of herself in everything from appearance to intelligence. Genevieve was 16 now which meant it was time for suitors to start coming to court. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to get married; she had no intentions of being a silent wife or someone’s trophy. She was far to smart for that, her teachers had told her that many a time. She started to notice things about her face that she hadn’t before. Random freckles that just took up one by one somewhere on her face and back. They weren’t like her cousins, whom had a sprinkle of tiny dots over their face and chest. No these were dark brown spots that stood alone. One on her collarbone, one behind her ear, one on her cheek. Random inhabitants that did nothing to improve her appearance, she was very self conscious of herself now. She thought her eyes might be too big, or maybe to close together. Maybe her nose was to big; maybe her lips were too full. She tore herself apart in front of that mirror every morning getting ready.
“All right miss you’re finished, head to your lessons downstairs,” Clara said stepping back. This was the routine, pick herself apart in front of the mirror but get up and stand confidently in front of the world. Genevieve nodded her thanks and smiled before opening the door of her room and stepping out into the light.