A WHOLE PARADE OF SUITORS WILL VISIT TODAY.

       I'm expected to attend, of course. After all, I am the Princess. The palace is quiet, the only sound being soft sighs of sleeping bodies echoing around the halls. I let my feet dangle off the edge of my bed a bit before stepping into the furry pink slippers I've grown accustomed to for a good two years now. The cushioning is still nice and squishy though my lady-in-waiting, Ahra, tells me otherwise. She's always fussing about. 

       I drag my feet as loud as I can across the floor as I make my way to the bathroom. I want the King and Queen to know how much I hate their stupid traditions. The sweet smell of soap drifts into the air as I notice the door has been left open a crack. Swinging the regal piece of wood wide open, I see Ahra preparing the water for my bath. 

       "Hey Yumi," she says. 
       "Morning Ahra," I reply. "You don't need to get my bath ready, you know. I'm fully capable of doing it myself."
       "I know. Your parents requested otherwise for today, though."

I shrug and plop down on the ground beside her. 

       "I'm going to reject them all today, you know?" I sigh.
     "I know. Nahyun and I are planning on being there to watch it," a playful expression flitters across Ahra's face. I study her for a bit. Her beauty would've been unimaginable – and it still is, though the scar on her right cheek is so obvious to the average human that it draws the attention away from her deep brown eyes and marvellous short black hair. 

       "Tell me a story," I demand suddenly and stand upright.
       "Later, dear Princess," Ahra says mockingly. "Your bath is ready. I'll get your clothes ready, too."

       She gets up and makes her way to the door. About to disappear to the other side, she scans me from head to toe. From the sight of my long, messy black hair, exactly the same shade of hers, she purses her lips. 

       "Don't take too long, Yumi. Your hair is going to take a lot of time." 

       With a soft click, the door shuts and I'm left alone with the soapy water. Shrugging off my nightgown, the tip of my toe tests out the water before I plummet in. It's the perfect temperature and wakes me up immediately. Some of the colourful bubbles pop as I sink down, down until only my face is above the surface. The warmth and bliss of the moment engulfs me and I'm left in a dreamlike daze. I don't realise how long I've been in the water until Ahra barges in.

       "Are you done yet?" She asks.
       "How long have I been in here?"
       "Nearly an hour now," she shakes her head and leaves the bathroom.

I pull my fingers above water level and eye them. Wrinkly. Definitely here for at least 45 minutes. I grab some shampoo and conditioner and rub it into my hair. In two minutes flat, I cleaned my hair and body. Ahra is always criticising my idea of putting on shampoo and conditioner at the same time but I think its a great way to save time. I climb out of the magnificant tub and grab a towel. I dry my body as fast as possible and rush out of the bathroom to greet the awaiting lady-in-waiting.

       "About time," Ahra says and pushes me down into the seat facing my vanity table. She grabs a hair dryer which she uses to blowdry my hair. In no time at all, she's got a towel wrapped around my head and is making me stand up.

       "Try on this," she says and hands me a violet, floor-lengthed dress that hugs my upper body tightly before flowing outwards. Yanking it on, I'm about to ask her a question before she waves it away and zips up the back. 

       "It's tight," I complain.
       "It's meant to be. You've gotten fatter recently," she teases.
       "Very funny."
       "The Queen demanded that you wore something flattering that accentuated your curves," Ahra says.
       "What curves. All I have are flabs."

       She rolls her eyes and bustles me into the chair once again. Removing the towel, her hands are a blur as they do this and that to my hair and face until finally, they rest by her side and she gives me an expectant look. A look that says what do you think? yet she knows that I despise looking at myself in the mirror.

       "It's great," I say unemotionally. Surprisingly, Ahra lifts up my chin and forces me to stare at myself... And I can't look away. In the short amount of time she had, Ahra had curled my hair so it fell down my back in twisted ringlets and applied makeup made of natural ingredients that brought out the chocolate-brown of my eyes, the tenderness of my lips and the healthy colour in my cheeks. 

       But, before I can even compliment her about how she was able to make a monster look like an actual Princess, a knock on the door startles the both of us. It opens a peak and I hear the rustle of her dress as my mother the Queen steps in. 

       "What's taking so–" she begins impatiently but is immediately gobsmacked by how I look.
       "Thank Ahra for this. Are they already here?" I ask.

       All she does is nod before leading me towards the waiting suitors and my impending future.