Royalteen

So I finally finished my 2000 words of my story Royalteen. It's all submitted, including maps and everything! Yay! Only one assignment left this term, woo!

Royalteen

Princess Prudence’s Royal Decrees

5. Governesses should teach interesting things like horse riding or history, not how to wave like a princess.4. All maids should be nice and friendly, not total bitches.3. Annoying younger brothers should not be allowed inside the castle.2. Parents are not allowed to be bossy and controlling, even if they are King and Queen.1. There should be no arranged marriages!

They’ve arranged a marriage for me. That’s right; a marriage!

My parents are so frustrating; they’re always bossing me about and telling me what to do. If you think your parents are bad, try having the great King Cedric for your Dad and the beautiful Queen Annette for your Mum. Seriously, they never stop telling me what to do, from ‘don’t bite your nails, Prudence’ to ‘stand up straight, Prudence’. One time they even told me to stop tapping my foot in public. It’s not my fault that the royal band was playing some good music for once. And now they’re telling me to get married! That’s right, I’m not even sixteen yet and they’re already trying to marry me off. Not even someone good looking; they’re going to just give me away to that pathetic Prince Percy. I’ve met him before at a Royal Ball, and believe me, they don’t call him the Pimply Prince for nothing.

Sometimes I wish I had evil step-parents, like in those fairy stories, who would just lock me in a tower and never speak to me again.

But no, they never leave me alone. They’re always coming into my room and talking to me, even when I would rather be on my own. As if I don’t see them enough at breakfast, lunchtime, and dinner in the Grand Hall. I mean, Mum just came into my bedchamber, without even knocking.

I was sitting at my cherry-wood dressing table, brushing my auburn hair, my head still reeling from the news, when she walked in. She closed the door behind her with a sad look on her face. ‘Prudence, I know this is a lot to take in, but it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be,’ she said.

Admittedly I had thrown a bit of a tantrum after they had told me the news at breakfast, it wasn’t very princessey of me – my governess would have been very disappointed. It wasn’t much, just a bit of royal foot stomping and yelling that made even the servants blush.

I looked at the reflection of my Mum in the gilded mirror. ‘I thought after you had an arranged marriage you wouldn’t want your daughter to go through the same thing,’ I said. I could feel tears forming - I don’t usually cry but it had been a rather hectic day. I covered my face so she wouldn’t see them. ‘I thought you would understand.’

Mum’s heels clicked as she glided across the wooden floor, decorated with silver and blue rugs brought over from Esteria. She sat down on my four-poster bed and patted the satin sheets beside her, beckoning me to join her. I got up begrudgingly from my dressing table and sat down next to her.

‘I do understand,’ she said, giving me a hug as I buried my face into her thick, black hair. ‘But it is an Adruhal tradition and I can’t change the rules. It was hard when I had to marry your Father, too. I was your age and he was twenty-one but Esteria needed protection and Adruhal promised it.’ She gave a little sigh and hugged me tighter. ‘I know you’ll do the right thing.’ She let me out of her embrace and squeezed my knee. 

I could feel the tears spilling over. Before Mum could say anything else my annoying younger brother burst into my bedchamber as if there wasn’t a solid oak door there. If anyone can make you feel worse it’s horrible siblings, especially when they’re simpering creeps like Damien. He was even wearing his blue tunic with the Adruhal crest of the lion’s head decorating the front; could he be any more of a suck up? 

‘Here you are Mother, I’ve been looking for you all over,’ he said in his whiney voice, though I swear it should have broken by now.

‘What did you want, dear?’ Mum asked.

He stood next to the door, looking down at his feet; like he was shy. ‘Well, after Prudence’s dramatics this morning I wanted to let you know that I would do anything for Adruhal, even an arranged marriage.’ As he spoke he looked up and gave me a slow smirk that Mum apparently didn’t notice. My tears dried up instantly. Mum smiled at him and patted the other side of the bed. He sat next to her and snuggled in close. He’s only two years younger than me but he always acts like a baby around Mum; little brat.

‘I know you would do anything, dear, but Prudence is the eldest so it’s her responsibility right now. You’ll have your time soon.’

I threw Damien a smug smile. He’d been trying to usurp me ever since he was born. I remember when I was given my first tiara and the next day I had caught Damien stealing it from my dressing table. That was the first and last time I was ever letting Damien near my crown.

Mum then gave both of us a hug (I made sure mine lasted longer than Damien’s) before she stood up.

‘I must be off, darlings, there’s a lot to be done before Prince Percy arrives next week.’ She patted us both on the head and left. As soon as the oak door shut behind her Damien turned to me.

‘I don’t know why anyone would want you to be Queen when you throw hysterics like that,’ he sneered.

Trying to think of something smart I said, ‘I don’t know why anyone would want you to be prince when you look like the back end of a horse.’ Okay, maybe not the smartest thing to say. ‘Now get out of my room.’

Before he had time to retort I grabbed him by the collar of his tunic with one hand (which is hard to do when he’s nearly the same height as me) opened the door with the other and shoved him out into the hall, slamming the door shut. The loud bang echoed down the stone hallway. I hoped Mum didn’t hear it.

I turned from the door, collapsed onto my bed and pulled the plum velvet curtains closed, blocking out the glare of the midday sun. My parents told me that this marriage would be perfect as it would unite Adruhal and Minadril. I did want what’s best for my kingdom but I also wanted to marry for love not convenience.  It sounded pathetic but I had always imagined marrying someone tall, strong, and handsome, manly yet with a sensitive side. I admit it; I was just imagining Raymund. I knew he was only a knight but I figured that when I was Queen I could alter the rules a little and marry him instead of a pimply prince. Prince Percy would be arriving any day now and I would never get to live out my Raymund fantasy.

Unless I was to go riding today, maybe I would bump into him at the stables.

With no time to waste, I threw back my bed curtains and grabbed my horse riding outfit from the cherry-wood wardrobe. It was a pain to ride in a dress but my governess would go crazy if I ever wore trousers. It was made of a hideous green fabric that always gathered thickly around my tummy, making me look twice my normal size. It wasn’t the best outfit for Raymund to see me wearing but it would have to do.

I hurried down three corridors, two flights of stairs and across the castle foyer, my riding boots clomping with every step. Once outside I tied my hair up and half ran, half walked to the stables; I didn’t want to look too keen.

I was around a hundred yards away from the stables when I saw him. His shoulder length blond hair gleamed in the afternoon sunlight and his armour was perfectly sculpted to his well-built body. With each blink of his ocean blue eyes his long black lashes brushed his sun bronzed cheeks. His laugh was as lyrical as the phoenix’s song and it was only then that I realised he was laughing with somebody. A short girl, with strawberry blond hair tied back in a bun, wearing a plain simple dress with a white apron. She smiled up at Raymund and touched his arm. She turned slightly and I could see her face. A pointed nose, sharp chin, and feline eyes: Cathie.

She spotted me just as I saw her.  

‘Princess Prudence,’ she cried, a wide smile stretched across her face. ‘How delightful to see you.’ She curtseyed deeply. Raymund followed suit and gave me a polite bow with one of his dazzling smiles.

‘Are you going riding, your Highness?’ he asked, my heart fluttered as he looked into my eyes. I opened my mouth to reply when Cathie cut me off.

‘Of course she is, silly, can’t you tell by her lovely dress.’ She gave me another smile, yet her eyes narrowed cruelly as she squeezed Raymund’s arm. I felt my face flush. I knew if I were to sink to her level it would get nasty very quickly. So instead of losing my temper like I usually did, I tried to play it cool.

‘Don’t you have to clean some chamber pots?’ I asked in my best royal tone that would have made my governess very proud. The smile dropped from her face.

‘Yes, your Highness,’ she spat bitterly. She quickly curtseyed, this time without the sarcasm. She then turned to Raymund. ‘See you around, Ray,’ she said in a sultry voice with a wink. He smiled and winked back. My cheeks burned as Cathie threw me one last vicious smile and sauntered off.

‘Shall I fetch the stable boy, your Highness?’ Raymund asked absently, still staring off after Cathie and her sashaying hips. I looked at him hopelessly, and felt like chasing after Cathie and shoving her head in a pail of dirty water, but I knew that was not a very princessy thing to do. Instead, I smiled graciously at Raymund, even though he wasn’t looking at me.

‘No thank you, Raymund. I don’t feel much like riding, anymore.’

Cathie had now disappeared into the castle and he finally turned to me. ‘Very well, Princess.’ He bowed once more, picked up his sword that had been resting on the stable wall, and walked off towards the knight’s quarters. I watched him as he walked away, his armour clanking lightly. Typical Cathie! She ruins everything.

I guess that was a sign. I shouldn’t have got my hopes up.  Disappointed, I made my way back to the castle. I suppose I should focus my energies on being a better princess rather than indulging in girlish fantasies. Maybe Prince Percy’s pimples have cleared up since I last saw him. It was three years ago, after all.

*

I had never been so nervous before in my life. Prince Percy would be arriving any minute, and the whole castle was in pandemonium. The maids were running around doing some last minute dusting. The cooks were slaving away in the kitchens preparing the feast we were to have this evening. And every citizen was waiting in the city centre for Prince Percy and his royal precession to parade through at midday. I wasn’t nearly as excited as the citizens though; in fact, I thought I might vomit. As a family we walked out onto the castle’s balcony. The cheers were deafening. I saw the blue banners and bunting hung from the buildings with our lion’s head crest printed across them. Stalls lined the cobbled streets selling the traditional goods of Adruhal; pears and apples covered in sweet sugar; candles made of scented bees wax; bouquets of Bluebells our national flower; and lion figurines sculpted out of the finest woods. Musicians roamed through the crowds playing their pipes, flutes and accordions; their hats filled with silver and copper pieces. I wished I could be as free as the children that ran up and down the streets fluttering flags and streamers, begging their parents to buy them delicious treats.   

If everyone got this excited about a royal visiting I dreaded to think about what it would be like when we had the royal wedding. My Mum looked down at me with a smile. I knew she wanted me to be happy but I couldn’t stop myself from shaking. I held out my hand and my Mum grasped it firmly in her own. Damien stood to my left waving gleefully at the people, soaking in all the attention. My Dad put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed tightly just as the horns sounded.

Prince Percy was here.

Doctor Who Convention - Matt Smith & Tom MacRae

I went to the Doctor Who Convention yesterday. It was thrilling for many reasons, but here are two in particular.

Here's number one:

That's right. I got to meet Matt Smith! If you didn't know he is the current Doctor of the popular TV show Doctor Who. If you didn't know this then shame on you, and go watch some episodes right now! I have never met a celebrity before so this was very exciting. Sadly we were in and out very quickly so I didn't get to savour the moment! However, we did see him again later in the day.

Here's the second reason: at the convention there was a talk by the crew, including writer Tom MacRae. He wrote the episode The Girl Who Waited which had a lot more to it that I had originally thought. I admit, it wasn't one of my favourites but now I really want to watch it again! Tom MacRae was charasmatic and funny, he had some interesting insights into writing. I felt really inspired to write after listening to him, and it made me want to share my Doctor Who ideas with him.
Personally, he was better than Steven Moffat who was also there. He didn't give away anything about his writing and didn't like to answer questions lest he give out spoilers! So typical! Though we saw him casually walking by during the convention. There were too many famous people than I could handle!
Anyway, Tom MacRae was doing autographs too but while we were in the queue he left, so regrettably, I did not get to meet him and tell him my own ideas or ask him any questions.

Overall, it was a great day and I wouldn't mind being in the TV business. It kind of makes me wish that I had picked the Writing for Mainstream Television module!

Oh by the way, you can't tell, but I am wearing a Dalek dress. I am too cool!

Mark De Sade Idea

I haven't posted in ages, and believe me I feel awful about it. But I'm just finding it so hard to write at the moment. Well, anyway, here is a piece of writing that I have struggled through. I'm not feeling too pleased about it but I would like you to read it despite that. Maybe you can give me a few tips as to where I should take it next. Just a hint, it's based on Bluebeard and The Bloody Chamber. 


Mark De Sade

I sat on Mark’s bed awkwardly. I had never been in a boy’s room before. It had blue wallpaper with clothes all over the floor, school books thrown on the desk, and a poster of a girl just wearing a lacy thong. I now regretted wearing the plain white knickers that I had had for years.

I waited for a couple of minutes before checking my watch; Mark was taking forever considering he was only getting drinks. I got off the bed and wandered around the room. I peeked in his wardrobe and nosed at some of his school books. He was not doing too well at Trigonometry - all D’s. I scanned the rest of his books on a small shelf, not that there were many. I picked a footballer’s autobiography off the shelf and another book came out with it. It landed with a thud.

I picked up the book; it looked like a scrap book, although I didn’t imagine Mark was very creative. I turned the book in my hands and one of those old Polaroid types of photographs fell to the floor. A photo of Amber. I scowled; this was probably a scrap book she made for Mark on Valentine’s Day or something. Irritated, I opened the book.

The page was covered in photos of a busty blond with a dazzling smile on her face. Mark’s ex-girlfriend, Vicky. Her name was written in pen at the top of the page along with the date 27^th August. I remembered her distantly. Mark had gone out with her for ages a few years back; they were the ‘It Couple’. But I guess they weren’t that great together as he dumped her and she changed schools instantly. I ran my hands through my shoulder length brown hair, would Mark like it better if I was blond? Absently, I turned to the next page. There were more photos of Vicky. But in these photos she was dead. Her body was naked, mutilated, and covered in blood.

I dropped the book in shock and stifled a scream. I closed my eyes but I could still see Vicky’s disfigured corpse in front of me. I counted to ten before looking back at the book.

It had fallen open to another page. These photos were of a girl I had never seen before. Joanna was written at the top along with 20^th May. She was wearing a tight bikini and had sun bleached hair with beautifully tanned skin.

I didn’t want to know what was next but I couldn’t stop myself. My hand shaking, I knelt down and cautiously flicked the page over. Joanna’s skin was now a deathly grey and her hair was matted with blood from all the cuts on her face. I leapt away from the book as if Joanna’s massacred corpse was decaying in Mark’s bedroom. I lay on the floor, breathing quickly, my hands covering my face. After a moment I sat up.

My heart racing, I looked back at the book, trying not to see the photos. With a quick glance at the bedroom door I turned the page once more.

Amber 14^th March.

Amber’s beautiful face stared up at me from the photos; her auburn hair curling around her freckled face and her mouth frozen in the perfect smile.

My heart stopped. The 14^th of March was only last week. The day before Mark asked me out. Thinking about it, I hadn’t seen Amber in a while. That’s when it hit me. These dates were the day they died. The day Mark killed them.

I dreaded to see what was on the next page but I couldn’t control myself. I reached for the book when I heard a creak on the stair. He was coming back. I snatched the book off the floor, shoved it back on the shelf along with the footballer’s autobiography, and leapt onto the bed. Mark opened the door just as my head hit the pillow.

‘Hey, we only had water, hope that’s okay,’ he said as he entered the room. He stopped as he noticed me lying on his bed breathing quickly. ‘Are you alright?’

‘Yeah, I’m fine. Just thirsty.’ I sat up and took a glass of water from him. As I drank I saw him looking at something on the floor.

The photo of Amber that had fallen from the book.

My glass slipped from my fingers with a crash.

‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry.’ I sprang from the bed and headed for the door. ‘I’ll just get some tissues.’

‘It’s fine, it’s just water,’ Mark said as he grabbed my wrist. I stopped suddenly, unsure about what was going to happen. He led me back to the bed and sat me down. He then stood in front of me.

‘You’re really pretty, did you know that?’ he asked. I shook my head dumbly. He gave me one of his lopsided smiles, more predatory than it was charming. ‘You really are. Would you mind if I took some photographs of you?’

My heart stopped as Mark reached under his bed and pulled out an old Polaroid camera. I tried to get off the bed but he shoved me back down.

‘I think on the bed will do.’

Before I could move again he snapped a picture of me. After it was printed he looked at the photo.

‘Try not to look so terrified this time,’ he said as he took another photo.

I lay on the bed, my whole body tense. I smiled tersely as Mark aimed his camera at me. I looked about the room. He was stood too close to the door; if I was to run he would definitely catch me. I could try the window. We were on the first floor, but I would rather risk broken legs rather than death. But how did I even know if the window was unlocked. 

Character Profile Sheet - Tobias

I have no idea what to write at the moment. I am completely stuck. So I decided I would do another character profile in hopes that it would get the creative juices flowing. This is just a rough idea of how one of my characters might be like.


Name: Tobias of the Raksaka Tribe.

Age: 17

Birthplace: The Raksaka Settlements.

Marital Status: I am not married. The men of the Raksaka tribe do not marry, but instead take on women to bear their children.

Children & Ages: I do not have any children. It is unlikely that I shall have any children as I would have to choose a woman, and none of the females in my tribe appeal to me. I would not want inflict that misery on anyone, either.

General Appearance (Height, Hair & Eye Colour): My head used to be shaven when I lived in the Desert Lands, but since moving to Minadril I have grown my hair out, as it is rare to see a shaven head in the Western lands. I have dark eyes and skin, and this makes me stand out in Mindaril as most of the people there have very fair complexions. I am about 6 foot tall - the Desert Lands do not produce small, weak children. If they look like they will be runts, the children are left in the desert. Sometimes a person may take pity on the child and leave them on the Adruhal or Helmriche boarders. But that is very rare.

What do they sound like: I have long since lost my Raksaka accent as I have lived in Mindaril for many years. I took on their accent very quickly as I did not want to stand out too much. My dark skin and hair was already a problem.

Typical Outfit: In the Desert Lands I used to wear thin clothing as the heat was unbearable. But here in Minadril I wear expensive tunics, often with the Boar's head embroidered on the chest.

Where do they live (City, Countryside): I used to live in a small hut in the south of the Desert Lands, my tribe was known as the Raksaka. Now I live in the kingdom of Mindaril and have for three years.

Living Arrangements (House, Shared, Rented): I live in the Palace and share a bedchamber with seven other royal guards. I have my own bed, with a trunk for possessions. But I don't have many.

Who do they love: I do not love anybody. My tribe viewed love as a weakness and did not encourage it.

What is their home like: My home was a dreadful place. I despised the dry desert from an early age and wanted to leave as soon as possible. My tribe consisted of around thirty huts made from wood, grasses, stone, and mud. The Lerrnayin Mountains that surrounded our tribe meant it was almost impossible to get to the Abhainn River on the other side. It was torture having water so close and yet so far. Sandstorms were a regular occurrence and last for many hours. They destroyed our homes and what little farmland we had managed to grow. During sandstorms it was best to stay indoors, a bad storm could easily blind you, or tear your skin off.
Many times knights from Adruhal and Helmriche invaded our tribe, claiming the men had attacked their boarders or stolen from their lands. Usually, they had and many of them were taken away as prisoners. The tribesmen hated the knights and especially the royal families. They thought that it was unfair that they should have the rich, prosperous lands, while we rotted in the desert. They firmly believed that our ancestors had been cheated out of what was rightfully theirs.

How do they get around: In the Desert Lands you had to walk, but there were not many places you would want to go anyway. Horses did not often survive the desert. However, now I am in Minadril I have my own horse, Kale.

Occupation: I am the Prince's royal guard.

Degree of skill at occupation: I believe I am very good at it, he has not come to harm in the three years I have been with him.

How does the character feel about their occupation: It is a ruse. I am to wait until orders are given. Then I am to kill him.

Family background: I was raised by my father. My mother died during labour. Yet the women were only chosen to bear children, not for love, so my father was not sad. He was angered at her death though, as it proved that she was weak and he feared I would be weak, too. As I grew up I strove to show him otherwise but he was uninterested. He was moody and temperamental, he often shouted and tried to beat me. I sometimes wondered if he did actually love my mother and was angry that I killed her.
When I was thirteen I was recruited by the tribe leaders with the other boys from the tribe. They trained us as to be assassins. They told us that the royals were the enemies. They told us that when the time was right we would kill every last one of them. The leaders were lazy men, thirsty for the royal's blood. I only joined to show my father I was a man. He did not care. I was glad to be sent away to Minadril. I was only fourteen. When I left I vowed that I would make my father proud one day.

Names (Nicknames, work name, parent names): I am simply Tobias, I have left my tribe now. Many of the people at Minadril call me Guard. I respond to any name I am given and do as I am told.

What would you find in the pocket/handbag: I do not carry a bag. I only have a belt, which has my blade on it. I carry it around with me at all times. Inside my boot is hidden a knife that would go undetected if I were to be captured. When I go riding, or am guarding the prince I also have a sword. I keep my more personal belongings in my chest; I have the clothes I wore when I arrived at Minadril, they are my last ties to Raksaka. At the bottom of the chest is the only thing I have of my mother's. I found it in the hut when I was younger and took it for myself. It is a simple necklace, made from the seeds of the Kushca tree, one of the only trees that grow in the Desert Lands.

Do they have a best friend or someone they can confide in: I do not have many friends at the Palace. I do not wish to have them; they would only make my task harder. I am not friends with the prince. I find him weak, insufferable, and pathetic. I often think that I do not need to kill him, he will die soon enough by himself.

Did they have a happy childhood: No. I was neglected and beaten. I despised my father and he despised me.

What were they like in their childhood: I was quite and reclusive. I did not wish to interact with the rest of my people. My father would find any excuse to beat me so I avoided him at all cost. If I could make him proud now it would all be worth it.

Have they lost anything important to them: I suppose I lost my mother, but I did not know her at all. Some nights I do miss the idea of her, though. Maybe if she had lived she would not have let me controlled by the tribe leaders.


What is the thing that worries them most: I worry that if I fail my task I shall be exiled, or worse killed.


What is most important to them: I want my father to acknowledge my existence, to be proud. Sometimes I doubt whether it really matters. If I kill any of the royals he probably will not even care; all he cares about is lying around in the shade, occasionally throwing stones at the pathetic goats we keep.

Has their heart ever been broken: No. Never.


When were they happiest: Truthfully, I was happy when I left Raksaka. Being a guard at the Palace is a fulfilling job, I almost hope that the order to kill will never come.


Favourite food: Anything that is not covered in sand.


Favourite colour: Colour is not that important to me.


Hobbies: I like practising my swordsmanship and riding Kale. Mostly I have to follow the prince around so do not have time for hobbies.


Pets: At Raksaka we had goats, they were emancipated and scrawny and never produced milk. I felt sorry for them and thought they would be better off dead. Now I have Kale. I suppose he is my only friend here.


What do they hate most: Unlike the rest of my tribe I do not hate the royals. I am indifferent to them. But, the royals must do what is best for their kingdom, I must do what is best for my tribe. If it comes down to killing one of them I will. However, I do hate that my tribe have become mindless wasters. We deserve to live in the Desert Lands, we would only ruin these beautiful countries.


What are their obsessions: I do not have time for obsessions.


Do they have an ambition: Only to make my father proud.


What do they dream about: I have dreams where I am born to a happy family in Minadril. I wake up feeling disappointed and guilty.


What are their secrets: My greatest secret is being an assassin. If the royals of Minadril were to find out I would be executed. If I escaped Minadril, but failed in my mission, my tribesmen would not be any more welcoming. Then again, if my people found out that I did not truly believe their ideals they would also desert me.


Do they believe in religion or life after death: I believe that after death you are dead. I would like more for my mother, but that is the way it is.

Do they get on with other people or avoid them: I avoid them. I do not want to get close to people in case they discover who I am and where I come from. I am close to the prince but we rarely talk about personal things, he complains mostly. 

Writing Woes

Do you ever get to that moment where you just can't be bothered to write?

I'm feeling like that right now. I literally can't think of any ideas for my Textual Intervention piece based on fairy tales. Everything I write seems to be boring, flat, and already done to death. And yet I need at least 500 words by tomorrow!

Another problem are my Creative Voice 'sketches'. They're four 500 word pieces about image, voice, character, and setting. I just looked at some examples from past students and they are more original, inspired, and generally much better than any of mine are.

And then there's my Fiction for Children piece, Royalteen. Every time I hand a draft in to my lecturer, she  rips it to shreds. I do everything she says, but then next time I give her a copy there's even more scribbles and notes on it. I feel like I'm doing it all wrong. I so want it to be good but I bet I only get a 2:2 for it.

I just don't think my writing is good enough. My style isn't fun, lively and bright. It's bland. I don't write creatively at all. And I still have to pick my FYP! I don't have the confidence to do a piece of young adult fiction any more, not after having Judy as a lecturer!

I'm at a complete loss!

Another Character Profile Sheet

I found another Character Profile sheet, this one was given to me last year in Creative Voice. It's quite similar to the other Character Profile I did on Princess Prudence but with a few different points. It's more specific this time, and mentions a lot of modern things like TV and Films, so may not be as easy to do for Princess Prudence. I may do it one someone else, like Margaret Jones, who I haven't written about in a while.

But I'll leave the list here while I decide on what character to do it for.

Basic
Character's Name:
Gender:
Date of Birth:
Age:
Marital Status:
Nationality:
Social Class:
Morals:
Ambitions:
Education:
Favourite Subject:
Most Hated Subject:
Family Background:


Physical Appearance
Height:
Weight:
Hair Colour:
Eye Colour:
Tattoos or Piercings:
Any Other Info:


Personal Information
Hobbies or Pastimes:
Favourite Films:
Favourite Books:
Favourite Album:
Favourite TV Programme:
Favourite Sport and Team:
Favourite Food:
Favourite Drink:
Perfect Weekend:
Ideal Holiday Destination:
Accommodation:


Personality
Best Point:
Worst Point:
Mannerisms:
Fears:
Looks Forward To:
Temperament:


Profession
Job Description:
Salary:
Hours Worked:
Job Satisfaction:
Reputation at Work:

The Joy of Presentations!

It's come to that time in my life again when I have to do yet another presentation. Luckily, I have only had to do one presentation so far at University and it was about a crime novel. But now I have to do another one and with the same lecturer, she obviously likes presentations!

I hate doing presentations for the same reason that many others do. I hate standing at the front of class, I hate talking in front of people, and I hate looking like an idiot, which all tend to happen when you do a presentation.

This time the presentation is on a book called Secret, Lies, and My Sister Kate by Belinda Hollyer. I love making PowerPoints and this one is pink, purple and girly, just what I like! The script that's written is pretty naff but I just don't how to make it interesting! Hopefully, the square cupcakes we will be handing out will get us extra points. It's unlikely though as my lecturer is nice enough but is a really harsh marker!

So wish me luck on both my presentation, which I will be doing this Monday, and on my creative piece, Royalteen!

Character - The Mumford Man

For Creative Voice we had to bring in a picture of a person we wanted to write a story about. I got my boyfriend to choose the person as I didn't want to have any prior thoughts about them. It wasn't allowed to be a friend or a really obvious celebrity like Brad Pitt. So, my boyfriend chose this guy:

Now it turns out he's the lead singer in Mumford & Sons, Marcus Mumford. I didn't know this though when I wrote this piece. Did any of you guys recognise him? My piece is not even about a singer, more like an assassin. I imagined him as an Italian American born into the family business. He was going to meet a girl that would change his ways, but that wouldn't be till later. 


So here's the piece:

Al pierced the plastic cover of his frozen lasagne microwave meal with a fork and flung it into the microwave. He didn’t really have time to eat but he hadn’t really had anything substantial to eat in the last two days. Bar peanuts and nibbles from hotel mini fridges didn’t count. As he watched the microwave timer count down the minutes his iPhone buzzed. He looked at the screen. Oh good, the Boss. Probably asking for another ‘favour’. He’d only just finished one of his boss’s favours. Al scanned the text message quickly. Great, he had to be at the Roosevelt Hotel at eight o’clock. He looked at his engraved Rolex from his Father, ten past seven. He really wouldn’t have time to eat now. Leaving the microwave he headed to his bedroom. He picked out a clean shirt from his mirrored wardrobe and carried on to his en suite. He stood in front of the bathroom mirror. His grey eyes looked weary with tired bags underneath them. Lines pulled down at his lips and his moustache needed a trim. He rubbed a hand across his face and noticed a few drops of blood already turning brown on the cuff of his right sleeve.

‘Fantastic,’ he groaned.

He slowly undid the buttons. Instead of chucking it into the laundry basket he just left it on the floor, he’d deal with it when he got back tonight. If not, Maria would sort it out tomorrow morning. Al slipped on a clean Georgio Armani shirt and tucked it into his Ralph Lauren trousers. He trimmed his moustache and dabbed on a splash of Clive Christian cologne, the one that drove the ladies wild. He ran his hands through his short dark hair, he hadn’t had time to wash it this morning, but it would have to do for tonight. He’d only had a short amount of time but he still looked good. Al winked at his reflection just as the microwave beeped. He strolled back to the kitchen and opened the microwave. The lasagne smelt good but there was no point even trying to eat it. He still needed to get across the city and it was now twenty past seven. He took the meal from the microwave and grabbed the bowl with Rodolfo written on the side from the floor. Al didn’t even need to whistle, his long haired golden retriever knew the sound of his bowl being filled with food from across the room. Rodolfo jumped off the black leather sofa, on which he had been curled up on, and ran over to Al, tail wagging. Al tipped the lasagne into the bowl and put it back on floor. Rodolfo licked his lips before shoving his nose into the bowl of microwaved Italian food. Al patted him on the head and stroked him behind his furry ears.

‘Careful, it’s hot,’ he warned with a smile. Rodolfo wheezed slightly, his tongue hanging out, before going back for more. ‘I’ll be back in a few hours, if not Maria will take you out tomorrow morning. I’ve got work to do.’ Al petted Rodolfo once more before picking up his suit jacket, which he had thrown on the back of the sofa. He then put his iPhone, keys, and wallet into his pockets before picking up his semi-automatic. This favour was going to be a tough one. 

University Grades

This is a pretty braggy post. I got my Critical Evaluation for Creative Voice back today, and I won't lie, I was worried about what mark I was going to get. My Evaluation last year was 60%, so I wasn't too hopeful this year. However, I got 68% yay! Anyway, my friend said that she kept a record of all the grades she has got and I thought I would, too. I don't want to seem like a show off posting them on here, but it means I can link them to the exact pieces of work so you can see what I wrote and what grade I got for it. Also, if you can't show off your grades what's the point of getting them?

Year 2 Semester 2 so far...

Creative Voice: Critical Evaluation – 68%

Year 2 Semester 1

Media Writing: 1500 Word Critique of Article – 67%

Media Writing: 2000 Word Article – 65%

Short Story: Parody – 68%

Short Story: Creative Piece – 64%

Textual Intervention: Creative Piece – 72%

Textual Intervention: Rationale – 66%

Creating Short Screenplays: Film Script – 64%

Creating Short Screenplays: Essay – 65%

Year 1 Semester 2

Creative Non-Fiction: Creative Piece – 66%

Creative Non-Fiction: Essay – 54%

Creative Voice I: Critical Evaluation – 60%

Creative Voice I: Creative Piece – 68%

Creativity II: Exhibition Piece – 62%

Creativity II: Evaluation – 63%

Poetry and Poetic Expression: Creative Piece – 64%

Poetry and Poetic Expression: Rationale – 68%

Year 1 Semester 1

Language – Writing – Reading: Essay – 62%

Language – Writing – Reading: Portfolio of Writing Exercises– 53%

Fictional Writing: Creative Piece – 65%

Fictional Writing: Rationale – 63%

Creativity I: Presentation Evaluation – 63%

Creativity I: Research Essay – 68%

Script Writing: Essay – 64%

Script Writing: Pitch Presentation – 72%

My particular favourites are the Pitch Presentation; my Creativity I essay, which was on Oscar Wilde; my poetry pieces; my Creative Non-Fiction piece which was on Doctor Who; my Short Story Parody, and finally, my Textual Intervention piece, which was a First!

The Worst Essay Ever Completed.

Yesterday I finally handed in the Dreaded Essay. It took me ages to understand the question and then ages to answer it, too! I wasn't the only one to find it difficult, so that makes it slightly better. However, in the end I was a little bit proud of all my hard work, I read through so many books from the library, and I most of what was said went right over my head. I can't imagine all my work will account to much though, but as long as it's over a 2:2 that's fine. Oh no, I'm worried I've jinxed it now!

Anyway, I was so proud of it I though I would post it here, you know, creative work and academic work; I'm so versatile! It's over 1500 words and has a lot of footnotes, which don't look so bad spread over six pages, but the list looks endless here.

If you see any mistakes please don't point them out, I've already handed this essay in and I can't do anything about it now!

I used to recommend reading The Bloody Chamber but now I warn you to stay away from it! It will eat your soul!

 ‘All works of art either uphold the status quo, or challenge it.’ 

This essay will focus on Angela Carter’s story The Bloody Chamber. It will examine whether the text challenges or upholds the status quo through comparison of traditional fairy tales, the exploration of the feminist movement, heterosexual relationships, and the importance of the mother figure.

In 1979, when The Bloody Chamber was published, the women’s movement, referred to as ‘second-wave feminism’[1], was already in motion. These feminists arrived in a society where gender relations had been changed dramatically after the war when women had joined the workforce. During the 1960s and 1970s ‘detraditionalization processes occurred which transformed the institutions of marriage, the family, and gender’[2] which is apparent in Carter’s writing. Carter twists the traditional fairy tales and gives the female characters new, stronger, more sexual roles. Carter had been re-reading fairy tales and Sade’s The Misfortunes of Virtue together and ‘bleakly contemplating the fate of good, powerless girls, the Red Riding Hoods and Sleeping Beauties of the world.’[3] The protagonist in The Bloody Chamber is more heroic and active than in Charles Perrault’s Bluebeard. The bride in Bluebeard waits for her brothers to come to her rescue, reinforcing Zipes’s theory of ‘The male acts, the female wait’[4]. Although Carter’s protagonist is also saved by another, her mother, she does try to save herself by using sex as a weapon: ‘I forced myself to be seductive…and I saw how he almost failed to resist me. If he had come to me in bed, I would have strangled him, then.’[5] While her plan did not work, it is this activeness, rather than passivity, that saves the protagonist from a gruesome end. The protagonist through this experience is no longer naive about situations, ‘though she may be naive about her courage and ability to kill her husband.’[6] This is different from Perrault’s Bluebeard in which ‘Earth-shaking events have taken place in the story and nobody is better for them.’[7] Whereas Carter’s protagonist realises it is not all about money and security but about finding someone that loves you no matter what, like the blind Jean-Yves, who sees her ‘clearly with his heart’[8] and is preferable to the Marquis.

Fairy tales, and their underlying morals, were used to construct the roles children were to grow into. Perrault’s Bluebeard was written in the 1600’s in a time when writers ‘created their fairy tales for the most part to express their views about young people and to prepare them for the roles that they idealistically believed they should play in society.’[9] The Bloody Chamber was written in the 1970’s, a similar time to many radical feminist texts, and ‘the work of the women’s movement from the early nineteenth century onwards has done much to set new agendas for the liberation of both women and the relations between the genders more widely.’[10] Carter’s daring writings about ‘women’s waywardness, and especially at their attraction to the Beast in the very midst of repulsion’[11] made her unpopular in some areas of the feminist movement. The Bloody Chamber allows readers to explore the other agendas the classic fairy tale offers through intervention. By challenging the preconceptions of the fairy tale Carter’s work ‘excites contradictory and powerful feelings…while openly challenging conventional misogyny they also refuse the wholesome or pretty picture of female gender and deal plainly with erotic dominance as a source of pleasure for men – and for women.’[12] The heroine and Marquis engage in sexual relations, and the first time is all about the male taking the girl’s innocence, while later the protagonist uses sex for her own gain, showing she is not so inexperienced due to seeing the chamber.

Zipes says that ‘Perrault argues for the total submission of the woman to her husband. Feminine coquetry disturbs and upsets him: it could be the sign of female independence’[13] hence many of his tales have passive female characters like Patient Griselda and Beauty. In Bluebeard ‘the heroine is beautiful and well-bred but too curious…The moral explains that it is sin for a woman to be curious and imaginative and that women must exercise self-control.’[14] In contrast, men’s disobedience or curiosity is often seen as a virtue: ‘In contesting civil injustice or in resisting tyranny, the rebel’s disobedient methods are called revolutionary and courageous; but woman’s disobedience, forever coloured by traditional interpretations of the first biblical instance of it, is seldom admired.’[15] However, Carter challenges this by having her protagonist saved by her curiosity. Bluebeard wanted his wife to see the chamber and tempted her with the knowledge that she should not go there: ‘but he had given me the box, himself, knowing I must learn the secret. I had played a game…and I had lost.’[16] Nevertheless, if she listened to her husband she would not have known about this chamber full of his dead wives and would have ended up there herself.  Consequently, because she disobeyed her husband she found out about the chamber and was able to avoid being taken there. Through finding the chamber she is also able to ‘understand and survive the deadly peril that kind of marriage holds for her’[17] and realise he is not the man she thought he was.

Many of the books the heroine finds in the Marquis’s library all hint towards the motifs of the story: ‘The Initiation, The Key of Mysteries, The Secret of Pandora’s Box’[18] yet she ignores them. She finds the pornography ironically captioned ‘Reproof of curiosity’[19] not knowing the fate her husband has planned for her is worse. So, while old fairy tales preach that curiosity and disobedience are bad, and one should not stray from the path like in Little Red Riding Hood, this curiosity can lead to knowledge, which in turn leads to power.

The Bloody Chamber may challenge a female’s passivity in gender roles but also encourages a traditional heterosexual relationship. In both versions, Bluebeard successfully woos his bride with extravagant gifts and parties, ‘Bluebeard threw a house-lavish party at one of his country mansions’[20] showing that he has much wealth and can offer security. Carter takes this relationship one step further by having Bluebeard and his wife involved in sexual interactions, a common feature in conventional heterosexual relationships as ‘sexual consummation of the marriage became consequently of crucial importance in the Christian world’. However, the heroine’s attitude towards wealth, sexuality and marriage change after viewing the chamber, ‘Carter exposes her reading audience to a radical view on the fairy-tale marriage’[21] it is not about getting married and living happily-ever-after anymore, for in the privacy of his home the Marquis is brutal, power wielding Sadist.

It is not unheard of a young woman marrying an older man, and the girl’s inexperience is arousing for Bluebeard: ‘it must have been my innocence that captivated him’ [22]and ‘she accepts the stereotypical patriarchal view of a young girl in relationships to an experienced man; he is to initiate her and to enjoy his conquest.’[23] Many countries in the 70’s, including France, started petitions calling for the decriminalisation of all consenting relations between adults and minors. In 2006, in the Netherlands, the ‘Love Thy Neighbour, Freedom and Diversity’ Party’s aims were to ‘decriminalise sexual activities at any age unless dangerous or coerced’[24]. However, many Western cultures still find adult-child sexual relations to be controversial and taboo, though Carter does push the boundaries of this ideal with many of her protagonists being on the cusp of womanhood, such as the girl in The Company of Wolves: ‘her breasts have just begun to swell…she has just started her women’s bleeding’.[25]

Carter also challenges the status quo by having the heroine saved by a woman rather than a man. From the beginning it is made clear that the protagonist’s mother is a strong female character, she has ‘outfaced a junkful of Chinese pirates, nursed a village through a visitation of the plague, shot a man-eating tiger with her own hand’[26] The protagonist respects her mother deeply and is pleased to have her ‘nerves and will’[27] as well as her ‘mother’s spirit’[28]. Not only is she strong but she went against the social norms and married for love rather than money and security. Carter has questioned ‘the usual pattern of separation, transition, and return by making the girl’s mother, as a role model for her daughter, as one who has clearly operated outside the normal status quo of community expectations’.[29] However, the mother suffered the consequences of this decision as her husband died and left her in poverty. None the less, the protagonists embraces her mother’s marriage values, and even takes them a step further by not marrying at all but is happy to be ‘engaged in setting up house’[30] with Jean-Yves.

The mother and the protagonist share a special bond, in the first moment of crisis she goes to call her mother only to find the telephone line dead and yet this does not matter as the mother still arrives at the perfect moment. The protagonist explains it as ‘maternal telepathy’[31] but archetypal ideas say that ‘mother and daughter are a single complete unity’[32]. They also say that fairy tale mothers are different from real mothers as they often ‘possess subhuman or superhuman traits. For one thing they are better or more evil than the average human women.’[33] The mother kills the Marquis ‘without a moment’s hesitation’[34] suggesting she is more evil than average. It can be said that although the mother is strong and independent she still has to use the father’s gun, she could not possess her own.

Carter manages to both uphold and challenge the status quo in The Bloody Chamber through her portrayal of her heroine and the experiences she has. While traditional fairy tales condemned those who are too curious, Carter promotes the idea that a woman’s curiosity will lead to knowledge and power. Carter allows readers to question the original tales they were told as children and expose them to a darker and more sexual adaptation.

---

[1] Veronique Mottier, Sexuality: A Very Short Introduction, (New York: Oxford University Press, 2008) P.55

[2] Veronique Mottier, Sexuality P.55

[3] Eds. Roemer, Danielle M. and Cristina Bacchilega, Angela Carter and the Fairy Tale, (Michigan: Wayne State University Press, 2001) P.67

[4] Jack Zipes, Fairy Tales and the Art of Subversion, (Great Britain: Routledge, 2006) P.41

[5] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, (London: Vintage, 2006) PP. 34-35

[6] Eds. Roemer, Danielle M. and Cristina Bacchilega, Angela Carter and the Fairy Tale P.86

[7] Eds. Roemer, Danielle M. and Cristina Bacchilega, Angela Carter and the Fairy Tale P.96

[8] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.42

[9] Jack Zipes, Fairy Tales and the Art of Subversion, (Great Britain: Routledge, 2006) P.30

[10] Ken Plummer, Telling Sexual Stories, (London: Routledge, 1995) P.149

[11] Marina Warner, From the Beast to the Blonde, (London: Vintage, 1995) P.310

[12] Marina Warner, From the Beast to the Blonde, P.313

[13] Jack Zipes, Fairy Tales and the Art of Subversion P.41

[14] Jack Zipes, Fairy Tales and the Art of Subversion P.40

[15] Eds. Roemer, Danielle M. and Cristina Bacchilega, Angela Carter and the Fairy Tale, P.103

[16] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.34

[17] Eds. Roemer, Danielle M. and Cristina Bacchilega, Angela Carter and the Fairy Tale, P.98

[18] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.12

[19] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.13

[20] Angela Carter, ‘Bluebeard’, in The Fairy Tales of Charles Perrault, (Great Britain: Penguin Classics, 2008) P.4

[21] Eds. Danielle M. Roemer,  and Cristina Bacchilega, Angela Carter and the Fairy Tale, P.98

[22] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.16

[23] Eds. Danielle M. Roemer,  and Cristina Bacchilega, Angela Carter and the Fairy Tale, P.86

[24] Veronique Mottier, Sexuality P.106

[25] Angela Carter, ‘The Company of Wolves,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.133

[26] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.2

[27] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.26

[28] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.26

[29] Eds. Danielle M. Roemer,  and Cristina Bacchilega, Angela Carter and the Fairy Tale, P.97

[30] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.42

[31] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.41

[32] Sibylle Birkhauser-Oeri, The Mother: Archetypal Image in Fairy Tales, (Canada: Inner City Books, 1988) P.29

[33] Sibylle Birkhauser-Oeri, The Mother,  P.13

[34] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.41

Raymund the Knight

This is a little doodle of Raymund the knight. He's so dashing and good looking.  Here's a pretty cheesy quote from Royalteen about him: 


'I was around a hundred yards away from the stables when I saw him. His shoulder length blond hair gleamed in the afternoon sunlight and his armour was perfectly sculpted to his well-built body. With each blink of his ocean blue eyes his long black lashes brushed his sun bronzed cheeks. His laugh was as lyrical as the phoenix’s song...'
 

Fantasy Maps

So I've become a little carried away with map drawing, but I guess it does help with setting. I know my fantasy kingdom like the back of my hand now!

First there is the Province of Kardenia, which I have posted before.

Then there is the Kingdom of Adruhal, which is where Princess Prudence lives. The place now has a little more character. The Lerrnayin Mountains are off limits, over the other side of them is the Desert Lands where lots of dangerous people live. The Maranya is a dry hot place where not much grows and not many people venture. The few people that do live there are patrolling the boarder, protecting the kingdom from attack. Most of the people of Adruhal live in the capital though there are few settlements around the rest of the kingdom. The Adruhal farmlands are vast and very prosperous, and the farmers are happy. Princess Prudence likes to ride out of the capital and through the Welvarend Woods sometimes, but her Dad warns her not to go too far.

And finally, a detailed map of the Capital. You'll notice a cathedral and a grassy areas. Next to the cathedral are all the richer, upper class houses. The East side of the city is where the more lower class people live, but they're still happy. The street down the middle is Main Street where all the shops are. It's also where all the festivals and parades are held. The royals can look across the square from the castle, this is where they address the people. The castle was its own stables, which can be seen on the West side.

Royalteen - First 1000 Words

Here is the first 1000 words of my story Royalteen. My classmates and lecturer have both looked at it and I got some useful and some silly comments back. My lecturer said that I should put more visual imagery in as she can't 'see' the setting very well. That is a valid point. I also recieved a lot of 'show not tell' comments. However, she didn't seem to understand that Damien says 'Mother' instead of 'Mum' because he is a creepy suck-up who likes to act older than he really is to impress his elders. She also said that I should lower the target age group to 8-11 year olds as Prudence's voice sounds young. I don't agree and don't want to change it but also don't want to lose marks. So here is the version I gave in yesterday. Notice how it has changed from the first 500 words.

Royal-teen

Princess Prudence’s Royal Decrees

5. All maids should be nice and friendly not total bitches.

4. Governesses should teach interesting things like reading and history, not how to wave like a princess.

3. Annoying younger brothers should not be allowed inside the castle.

2. Parents are not allowed to be bossy and controlling, even if they are King and Queen.

1. And finally, there should be no arranged marriages!

They’ve arranged a marriage for me. My parents are so frustrating; they’re always bossing me about and telling me what to do. If you think your parents are bad, try having the great King Cedric for your Dad and the beautiful Queen Annette as your Mum. Seriously, they never stop telling me what to do, from ‘don’t bite your nails, Prudence’ to ‘stand up straight, Prudence’. One time they even told me to stop tapping my foot in public, it’s not my fault that the royal band was playing some really good music that day. And now they’re telling me to get married! That’s right, I’m not even 16 yet and they’re already trying to marry me off to someone. Not even someone good looking, they’re going to give me away to Prince Percy, and I’ve met him before at a Royal Ball, and believe me they don’t call him the Pimply Prince for nothing. Sometimes I wish I had evil step-parents, like in those fairy stories, who would just lock me in a tower and never talk to me again.

But no, they’re always coming into my room and talking to me, even when I would rather be on my own. I mean, Mum burst into my room, without even knocking.

‘Prudence, I know this is a lot to take in, but it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be,’ she said. I had thrown a bit of a tantrum after they had told me the news, it wasn’t very princessey of me – my governess would have been very disappointed. It wasn’t much, just a bit of yelling and foot stomping.

I sat at my dressing table, looking at my Mum in the mirror. ‘I thought after you had an arranged marriage you wouldn’t want your daughter to go through the same thing,’ I said. I could feel tears springing in my eyes. I don’t usually cry but it had been a rather hectic day. ‘I thought you would understand.’ Mum sat down on the bed and patted beside her, beckoning me to join her. I got up from my dressing table and sat down next to her; sure, parents can be annoying, but they’re also always there for you when you’re upset.

‘I do understand, believe me it was hard when I had to marry your father. I was your age and he was 21 but I knew I had to do it for my country; Esteria needed protection and Adruhal promised it. It was the best decision I made, and I know you’ll do the right thing, too.’ She squeezed my knee and I could feel the tears spilling over. Before Mum could say anything else my annoying little brother barged into my room. If anyone can make you feel worse its horrible siblings, especially when they’re simpering creeps like Damien.

‘Here you are Mother, I’ve been looking for you all over.’

‘What did you want, dear?’

‘Well, after Prudence’s dramatics earlier I wanted to let you know that I would do anything for Adruhal, even an arranged marriage.’ As he spoke he gave me a slow smirk. My tears dried up instantly. Mum smiled at him and patted the other side of the bed. He sat next to her and snuggled in close. He’s only two years younger than me but he always acts like a little baby around Mum; little git.

‘I know you would do anything, dear, but Prudence is the eldest so it’s her responsibility right now. You’ll have your time soon.’

I threw Damien a smug smile. He’d been trying to outdo me ever since he could walk. I remember once when I was given my first tiara and the next day I had seen Damien wearing it. That was the first and last time I’m ever letting Damien near my crown.

Mum then gave both of us a hug. ‘I must be off, darlings, there’s a lot to be done before Prince Percy arrives.’ As soon as the door shut behind her Damien turned to me.

‘I don’t know why anyone would want you to be Queen when you throw hysterics like that,’ he sneered at me.

‘I don’t know why anyone would want you to be prince when you look like the back end of a horse,’ I replied coolly. ‘Now get out of my room.’ Before he had time to retort I grabbed him by the collar of his blue tunic with one hand, opened the door with the other and shoved him out into the hall, slamming the door closed.

I turned, collapsed on to my bed and pulled the curtains around me. My parents told me that this marriage would be perfect as it would unite Adruhal and Minadrill. I do want what’s best for my kingdom but I also want to marry for love not convenience.  It sounds really silly but I always imagined marrying someone tall, strong, and handsome, who is caring and brave. I admit it; I’m just imagining Raymund. I know he’s only a knight but I figured that when I was Queen I could alter the rules a little bit and marry him instead of a prince. Prince Percy would be arriving any day now and I would never get to live out my Raymund fantasy. Unless I was to take my riding lessons a little early today, maybe I would bump into him at the stables. With no time to waste I threw back my bed curtains and changed into my horse riding outfit; it was still a dress as my governess would be outraged if I were to wear trousers. It was a plain, more hardwearing dress, that wasn’t very flattering. It was made out of a stiff dark green fabric that gathered thickly around my tummy, making me look twice my normal size. It wasn’t the best outfit for Raymund to see me wearing but it would have to do.

I hurried down the many corridors of the castle, my riding boots clomping with every step. Once outside I tied my auburn hair up and half ran, half walked to the stables; I didn’t want to look too keen. I was around 100 yards away from the stables when I saw him. His blond hair gleamed in the afternoon sunlight and his armour perfectly sculpted to his well-built body. His laugh was like the song of the phoenix and it was only then that I realised he was with somebody. A short girl, with strawberry blond hair, wearing a plain simple dress with a white apron laughed along with Raymund.