A young princess is about to be crowned queen. She has to find a worthy prince to become king. . . About twenty years ago, women took over the world. They were fed up with men using them as pets and trophies. Now they turned the tides. The king has little to do, the queens and princesses like showing them off there trophies, much like they did to them. Is this one princess different? Does one princess want to stop this madness? To make everyone equal. Will she decide that equality is better than revenge?
Not even Annabelle knows the answers to these questions, all she knows is her love for a slave boy. She is truly fallen head over heals for him.
What is wrong with this fairytale?
He hates her.
He thinks she is like every other princess, who thinks of no one but herself. That is what hurts Annabelle the most. Well, that and that he really doesn't know a thing about her, he just responds to her with 'Yes princess Annabelle.' Or 'Madam Annabelle' with the occasional 'Yes my princess."
Will he ever learn of her love for him? Or if she does will he ever learn to lessen his deep hatred for her? Or maybe... Maybe he will someday love her too.
(((All spots taken!!!!!!!))
(( Why, hello there. ;)
Hey, I should probably clarify. Obviously, I’m the guy, so I shouldn’t even ask. But what about age range? ))
((If you want to demand to be Annabelle I'd let you but if you don't mind I have a idea for her... And ummmm she is 17 so he could be like 18 or 20 or something like that. Whatever you want. I trust you not to be stupid and make him a old creepy 40 year old or a 10 year old. :p))
(( Gah. Yeah, no pedophile stories >.< And I’m cool with being the guy. I’m better at guys. Especially bitter, hateful guys… :P Karma for whatever Liz does to Jason! Ha. Though, I’m going to make it hard for her to hate him. ))
Name: Alec Exton (He goes by Exton, no one knows his first name except for people he’s really close to. Which is next to no one.)
Appearance: He has that tall dark and handsome thing going for him. His hair is semi-long, though not touching his forehead. It’s an extremely dark brown, blackish color and is quite curly. He usually has prominent stubble of a beard\mustache thing going on, straight brows and olive green eyes. He’s about 6’ 0” tall, a generously thick and muscular build. Lightly tan. Has a tattoo on his arm of an old fashioned black key. His hands are slightly callused from his many labor intensive jobs, the most prominent of which a blacksmith. Though he is also a messenger, hired guard, groundskeeper, and pretty much anything else he is told to do.
Name: Annabelle Kees
Appearance: she really has that whole 'princess' look going for her with being a stunning look alike to sleeping beauty. This but with a softer edge, she looks graceful and elegant.
((You wanna start?))
Alec crouched down, moving the soft dirt with his skilled hands. He was planting daffodils, forget me nots, irises, and several other spring flowers in the castle garden. It was a mildly warm day, not too hot, but he still panted from simply working every minute of the day. The men had always been the providers, they still were, but now they just didn’t get appreciation or recognition. In his case, it was even worse. He worked day to day as a slave, doing whatever nomadic job they saw fit, not even earning a wage to be accomplishing anything—even in his own mind. That’s how it had always been for him. Ever since he was three, he was a slave.
Annabelle picked up her current book and headed out to the garden to read. She loved to go read there, though she was usually alone it provided company. She walked through the stairs her long sweeping dress trailing behind her.
When she arrived at the garden she didn't think anyone was there, after all it was quite large. She sat on the large bench swing then tucked her feet under her, to the side sort of, leaving her shoes on the ground. Then she saw him, Alec. Annabelle almost dropped her book attempting to readjust herself into a proper position. "I didn't see you there..." She murmured her face flushing red.
(( she only knows him as Exton, I would point out. ))
Alec glanced up at the voice. He really didn't need to; he knew what the freaking princess sounded like. But it was 'unacceptable' for him to ignore her and not pay his 'respect' by gracing her with his eyes. Though, as a lowly slave, he was forbidden to make eye contact. He looked at her feet. "My apologies, Princess," he articulated mechanically. Then, he proceeded with his work. A little more tensely, now. Her presence made it even more intolerable.
((Agah. Kill me now. I'm sorry...... Then change that to that then......I'm so sorry!!!))
Annabelle smiled, though it was forced. Why did this slave have to be the one she loved? He was so.... Well for one even she could tell he didn't like her. He was practically attacking the ground now. "You don't need to be sorry, it's my fault. You can take a brake if you want. You look like you've been at that for quite a while."
(( no prob. Easy mistake to make. ))
Alec paused briefly. "Your graciousness is appreciated, princess. But I have much to many to serve to partake in such a selfish deed." He informed factually, as though he had memorized it from some overrated book. On one hand, though, it had to be the largest group of words he had ever spoken to her at once.
Annabelle crossed her arms, why was he so difficult? "Fine. Have it your way. I order you to take a brake and relax for a while." She told him then tucked her legs up because her again, not caring how improper she looked anymore.
He stopped abruptly, not daring to look at her with his current state. The bitterness would show on his face. She didn't understand anything. She knew nothing of slave labor. "As you wish, princess." He rose and walked off improperly, not waiting to be dismissed from her presence. He wasn't sure if the crossness leaked through his voice or not.
Annabelle was crushed. He hated her. He really did. She stood and all but ran out of the garden, leaving her book on history of the world behind. She was done. This is what happened to nice people. She entered the old stables and entered the corner to cry. She hid herself in the small room with supply's and seeped to the floor. Why did he hate her so much? All she ever did was attempt to be nice to him.
It wasn't too long before a vulgar and plump woman shoved Alec into the stables, talking to him harshly about how he was a lazy-good-for-nothing fool. A completely useless slave. How dare he take a break? How dare he skip out on her assigned work. "You'll be working overtime today," she assured icily. "Right after your usual beating."
After she left, Alec roughly grabbed a bale of hay and went to calm the understandably spooked horses. "Da.mn women," he muttered under his breath, unaware the princess was there. "God forsake them all..." He stroked a black stallion. "Shh... The devil has left us, Benji."
Annabelle was stunned. He was going to be beaten. And It was her fault. She stood dusting herself off, her fave still red, it being clear she had been crying. Wordlessly she walked past him then caught up with the woman outside the stables. He couldn't hear what she told her but it wasn't the truth of what happened that's for sure. She walked back into the stables, "she had no idea you helped me after the horse through me and I was hurt. So I explained how I had given you the day off to thank you." She told him simply then headed back into the supply room, sitting back down on a hay bell. Even if he did hate her that didn't change what she thought of him.
***hay-bale autocorrect hates me.
It wasn’t proper at all, but he stared at her with apparent shock until she left his field of vision. “You were here?” he heard himself say, before he could even think to stop himself. She would’ve heard his curse against her kind, then. The completely forbidden thing that only the foolish even attempt to verbalize. And, furthermore, she conducted some strange lie to…what? Help him? He caught himself in his improperness and looked to the floor, “Thank you, Princess,” he said quickly. He had to go to the storeroom to get a bucket to haul water, so he kept his gaze down as he entered it and fumbled around.
"Stop calling me princess." Annabelle protested once he entered the room. "No one is around, you don't have to look at the ground." She added. Why didn't he get that she wasn't like the others?
He paused, straightening to his full stance to look at her, crossing his arms. “It doesn’t matter—they all say that, your highness. Then, the moment the little slave boy lowers his guard and acts improperly, their true colors come out. I’m in no mood to be brought to the door of death with these little tests, Madame. So please, excuse my behavior forcibly drilled into my soul.” It was an odd mix of properness and traitorous tone. Obviously two sides of him battling it out.