Royal Ugly Duckling by Clara Reese

Author:Clara Reese [Reese, Clara]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: clarareese.com
Published: 2020-06-12T22:00:00+00:00

12

The room is in pristine shape, as if I had never left. I slowly make my way over to my luxurious canopy bed and run my hand along the silky bed linens, glancing around to making sure no one's watching before flopping back on it. Smiling to myself, I close my eyes and breathe in the old familiar scent of my bedroom.

It was my sanctuary at one time in my life, where everything else would just melt away and all I would do was sit back on my bed or maybe in my favorite embroidered chair with the fat stuffed ottoman, a book perched in one hand, and a cup of my favorite tea in the other. Sometimes Bella would joke on me and call me a granny, comparing me to our great granny who wore her crocheted afghans and strutted around the house in a pair of ratty old pink slippers.

I spread my arms wide and push myself back up until I'm sitting cross-legged, staring out at the rest of the room. I can tell that Claire's been keeping it up in here, making sure nothing gets too dusty with my absence, and my chest twinges with gratefulness. Hopping off the bed, I stroll over to my vanity, slowly shaking my head to myself. I never used to care about this thing, or the gigantic mirror with its bright bulbs circling around it. If I had my way in decorating my room this wouldn’t even have been a thought. But not only did Mama insist, claiming that I would need to sit down and look in the mirror time a time or two when I did my makeup, Bella was utterly despondent when I told her I didn't want one.

But why not? She had questioned me, looking completely confused. How are you going to see yourself if you don't have a mirror? How will you know that your clothes match and look good together, or that your hair is in place?

I suppose that these were things she thought about all the time, but what was the point when everyone was just when make fun of you, anyway?

I pick up the antique hairbrush that Mama insisted I have as part of the set, the only part of the vanity I ever truly treasured. It's a gorgeous handle made of real polished silver, the course bristles one of the only things that could truly tame my hair when it wasn't up or in braids.

"Well, well, well. Look who decided to join the family festivities this week," the voice that I've known for the longest in my life pipes up from behind me. I see Bella's slim frame in the reflection of the mirror before I turn and look at her full on. I have to admit that the scowl she's wearing doesn't suit her.

"Hey sis," I say weakly, reminding me that even though I feel guilty I shouldn't let her get to me.

But she just purses her lips, juts her hip out to the side as she leans against the doorframe.

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