The Vivalian Land

Belladonna
I sighed and glared at my mother again, who just smiled innocently at me.
"It is absolutely necessary? There is no possible way out of this?" I asked for maybe the seven hundredth time during this carriage ride, and the million and fourth time since they told me that I had to go marry His Royal Pain, the Annoyingness Valentine Roman Lossane.
My mother sighed and carefully pulled some of my pale hair away, the color, like always, somewhere between a light lavender and lilac. "Bell, darling... you know that the only to get out of this would be to have the war continue on. Would you want Sunny or Alec to suffer the same fate as Quince?"
My eyes blurred with sudden tears. I impatiently shook them away. "And why does he have to be the one who murdered Quince?"
My older brother and I had shared a special bond, deeper than that even of the twins. Sometimes, it was rumored by the people that Quince and I were halves of the same person. I certainly felt that it was true enough. When Quince died... for days I'd shut myself in my room, refusing to see anyone, eat anything, drink anything. Finally, my parents had had the door torn down. By that point, I had given up.
My parents forced me to go out again. It took a long time to return to someone like who I used to be. I had been entirely driven by revenge and now I had to be put together with him, stay with him for all my life?
My mother sighed again, and quietly murmured. "Fate can be incredibly cruel sometimes. But at least think. You are the hope of the entire kingdom."
I growled. "I don't see why! Can I at least change into other clothes, and go riding?"
I was wearing a gown, a short one, and had flowers as ornaments (OOC: The gown she wears in the picture for her profile).
My mother laughed at me. "We spent so long just to get you fixed up, sweetie. I'm afraid not." I scowled, and the rest of the ride passed in a miserable silence.
I was sketching, and as always, my thoughts turned to Quince. I drew his face, again, with his glimmering, intelligent eyes, and ready smile, and serene face. His ridiculously long hair falling over one of his eyes. That was where the rumor had started. We were trying to meet each other halfway- Quince by wearing his hair long and wearing flowing clothes was somewhat girly and I, with my breeches, shirts, and attitude, was somewhat boyish. I don't know if it was true, though. I just knew that we had been close, and the bond had been broken by someone who wasn't one of us, and now it could never be repaired.
I looked out, and saw that we had passed through the gate. I waited impatiently, and finally burst out of the carriage like the wild person I was. "I'm free!" I cried joyfully, my sketchbook tightly held in one hand.
My mother laughed again. "Bell, I sincerely hope you never grow up right now."

Romie

Normally, you'd think a couch that has been stuffed to it's limits would be extremely comfortable, as if one was lounging on a cloud. Well, it's the opposite of that. I lay there, sprawled out on a couch in my sleeping quarters that is so full of fluff that it's practically bursting. I sat up and tried to adjust my position to a much more comfortable one, but it was all in vain. So, I ended up sitting there, with a frown on my face as I waited for the princess to arrive.

Finally, one of my personal butlers entered with the news. "Your highness, the princess has arrived." He said with a bow. He looked over me with disapproving eyes. "Don't you think you should clean up?" He prodded, nodding his head to my get-up. I wasn't exactly princely looking, with my un tucked white tunic and brown breeches with black leather boots.

I shook my head and frowned at him, "If I did that, I would give the princess the false notion that I was a perfect, princely figure. Why should I lie to her on our first date?" I grinned at him and dusted off my shirt before waving him off. After he was gone, I headed to my window just in time to see her carriage pull up. Out of no where a beautiful woman wearing a gorgeous billowy dress hopped out of it.

I turned on my heels and went to greet whoever it was. "I think there's a mistake." I said to the butler as I caught up to him, "that's defiantly not the princess I knew when I was younger."

He smiled at me, as if this was his revenge for all of my bossiness, "oh no, I assure you, that's her."

I glowered at him and dragged my feet the rest of the way. I could hear him chuckling in the background and had to try my hardest to resist not stomping back there and showing him that I wasn't to be trifled with. I could have him fired, but he's been my butler since I was a child, it would be a cruel thing to do.

I swung the castle doors open and stepped up to the princess, grabbing her shoulders since she seemed to be jumping around. She did look different from the last time I saw her. She was beautiful. But, I was disappointed, the girl I liked way back then was the tomboy who stole my clothing while I was asleep and then rolled around in the pig pens before returning them. This didn't look like her at all. I frowned at this realization. "Good morning Bella, queen of snots (OOC: Childhood nickname for her). Did you miss me?" I asked. It seemed that I had left my princely manners back in the castle. "I missed you."

Belladonna
I knew without looking that the prince was the one who had grabbed me by the shoulder. I immediately kick him as hard as I can. Looks like, for once, these fancy, cursed, shoes came in handy. "Awful morning to you." I say perfectly sincerely.
The rest of the greeting I say in a sarcastic voice. "My wonderfully, handsome prince, who doesn't seem to realize how much I wish I weren't here. You have lost your privileges to call me Bella, or even Bell."
Then I continued on, perfectly cheerfully. "And since I know you're too stupid too understand what that means, I shall elaborate. It means that I wish, that right now, I had locked myself in my room, and insisted on having the wood replaced with metal." In an undertone I added. "Maybe then I wouldn't be here, because Mama and Papa wouldn't have broken down the door."
Since the kick seemed to have done damage enough to loosen his grip, I wrench out of it, hugging my sketchbook to myself. It was the one thing I would not show him. I stare at him in absolute silence for a few long minutes. Then I make an extremely rude gesture and turn towards the carriage.
I help my mother out of the carriage with a demonic smile. "Mama, since we're here and I've exchanged friendly, pleasing greetings, I am going to get changed." I did not tell her that the greeting I gave was only pleasing to me. I also did not wait for her to reply, because she would only tell me not to. I rushed off into the castle, and asked a butler where my rooms were.
He pointed to the stairs with a strange smile on his face. "Up those, the first door on the left, my lady."
I opened the door and hastily looked around till I saw two doors. I picked the one with the round mirror on it, and smile in satisfaction, at first. All my clothing was there, except for my normal clothes. Well, the more normal clothes. The ones that are more boyish clothing- wide breeches that pass as skirts, flowing tunics, shirts. I stare and then deliberately slam that door closed as well as the door to the suite of rooms. I walk to the stairs and never mind that I'm wearing a short dress, I slid down the banister and landed in front of my mother with a bow.
She sighed wearily. "You will never learn, Bell. Luckily, you're safe this time. Weren't you going to change?"
I smile fakely. "I was going to. Where are my clothes?"
Then she smiled. "I was wondering when you were going to realize that we had decided we would pack them and bring them with us, rather than have the maids accidentally ruin them, or get confused about why they're there."
I growled. "Am I stuck in this, then?"
"Yes, and stop frowning. You'll have wrinkles before you're thirty." She reprimanded me with a smile in her voice. I swear, my mother was as bad as the prince sometimes.

Romie

I jerked a bit when Belladonna kicked me. "Why you little..." I hiss through gritted teeth, "don't think I won't get you back for this." I noticed her royal pain in the butt's mother was still standing there, and quickly plastered as pleasant a smile as I could muster. "Your legs are still as strong as ever."

I watched her scamper off to help her mother and I took the time to rub my bruised shin. "Mama, since we're here and I've exchanged friendly, pleasing greetings, I am going to get changed."

I stood up straight and uttered a funny little laugh, "Yeah, her greeting was more pleasing than I had expected. I just hope our time together will only get better, don't you, princess?" I watched her run off and then smiled at her mother, "I'll have someone show you to your room." I say with a modest bow before walking back into the castle.

I walked into one of the smaller hallways when I heard her talking to her mother. Out of curiosity, I stopped and listened in to her conversation. She was only complaining about how she didn't have any of her "normal" clothing. I couldn't help but smile, so she wasn't a complete priss, now. That was good, I'm not interested in just any old princesses.

I chose this moment to step out. Honestly, in the same way that Bella used to never look like a princess, I didn't look anything like a prince, other than my impeccably white smile and handsome looks. "I couldn't help but overhear," I begin, stepping out of the hallway, "but, if you want something more... comfortable to wear, I have some tunics and breeches that are too small for me. Maybe after your changed we can go riding." I offered her my hand, and pulled her up the stairs, leading her to my room.

Belladonna
I muttered something rude under my breath as the idiot prince dragged me up the stairs, while I was digging my heels in. Something unlikely about his family, and more specifically, his parents. "You are still the same idiotic, prissy brat as before!" I clenched my teeth and wondered if I were strong enough to yank his hand far enough up towards me that I could bite him. Probably not.
"You do realize, just because you and I have to be together, I'm not going to be polite!" I called once I think we're up the staircase far enough that my mother would be unable to hear what I said. She would be most displeased with me and my behaviour.
As he stopped in front of his rooms, I turned slightly pale. "Oh, no, they did not-"
I yank open the door, and apparently catching the prince by surprise, we fly into the room, where I yank open a side door, which, of course, leads to my suite of rooms. "And there isn't a lock either. I swear, if you chose this room for this purpose on purpose, I'm going to kill you. And then I will have you reincarnate so I can chop you up into bloody pieces, douse you in oil, and burn you! And then I'll have you reincarnate and think of other tortures. And then I will make the process continue, as painfully as I can, for however long you will live. And then I won't give you a moment's peace when you die either!"
Suddenly, I remember something my parents had told me in one of their lectures, where I hadn't paid attention. That, at first, we would merely have our suites of rooms adjoining and next to each other, unlocked, but of course, both of us would have expectations to not do anything... naughty, shall we say? And then, after we're engaged, and the formal contract is made, all of our belongings will be taken into another set of rooms, these ones actually meant for a married couple. And of course, by that time, public displays of affection would be considered to be completely normal, but there would still be two separate beds. And then, only a couple or so days after that, we actually will be married, in front of the royal courts of both nations, and then, on our wedding night, will be expected to consummate our marriage. We had taken the customs for marrying of both nations and combined them. Except for one thing- I would not be consummating this marriage at all, because I can help it.
I groaned as I shut the door and slid down against the wall, finally curling up into a heap at the bottom. "This can't get worse, can it?" Well, the only possible worse thing that would end up happening is that they would move all the dates forward, which I hope with all my might won't happen. "No, don't think about it. If you think about it, it might actually happen."