Danae's POV

Four years passed since my twelfth birthday and now I’m going to be sixteen tomorrow. I want to puke, cry, and scream for joy all at once. I was finally going to be given my official title, I would get engaged, and marry the love of my life and…. Kiss, yes that's right. In about five years I’ll have my first Kiss!’ My inner monologue raged on and on about the possibilities of adulthood, the fantasy of meeting handsome men was all the rage in the circle of ladies my age, most of whom had made their debut due to my birthday being in the last month of the year. “What certified debutante wouldn’t talk about her fantasies of marrying the man of their dreams when they reached adulthood? No girl in her right mind would give up the pristine opportunity that was being in her prime! Which is why I, Danae, the daughter of the King and Queen of Eden will choose the most beautiful man to dance with tonight!”

I lied, I’m a big fat liar, I mean who else could I dance with besides the dreamboat that was my very own knight? I think that he was practically made for me. I mean, if a man is about a foot taller than you, with broad masculine shoulders, a snatched waist, red curly hair that was as luscious as a horse’s mane, the color of your favorite fruit, and eyes that shined like the most opulent eyes the same color of Adventurine, a fat ass, and to top it all off it would be a childhood friends-to lovers plot! I felt more proud of my father for choosing such a perfect four-year-old to protect a baby for the rest of her life as my arm was wrapped around his, hoping I wouldn’t become so flustered that my blush would be noticeable, but when he held my hand I felt happy, like a puppy wagging its tail, and all I wanted to do was climb into his lap and lay there forever. 

As the ballroom door opened, the light of the chandelier shone on me, and a maid stoked the large fireplace that helped keep us warm but he held my hand nothing could compare to the way he asked “Are you ready for this, my Princess?” a simple question but it stroked the flames of my heart. As I shyly replied “I’m always ready Sirian” I looked at him trying to hope my cheeks hid my real feelings. He looked down at me a soft smile spreading across his lips. I wanted his hand to stay in mine forever, even when we stepped out of the cold hall and into the warmth. My mother was the first to greet me. Her face showed no sign of age, her clear green eyes were filled with tears, and at that moment Sirian’s hand let go of mine as my mother grabbed my shoulders, the uncomfortable fabric of this dress rubbing against my skin. “Look at you!” She tried not to wail I know she did, but that didn’t stop her tears from falling. As she hugged me, I rubbed her back, my eyes immediately flowing to my father, a tall white-haired man with red eyes and pale skin, he was a man nothing like me, but I am his daughter, I’m sure of it. “You’re beautiful Danae. I thank the creator goddess for blessing me with such a lovely child!~” She wailed into the crook of my neck. My mother always worried incessantly but when my father spoke up her attention turned. “My beloved, don’t worry it’s only natural our daughter is growing up” my mother sniffled still gripping onto my shoulders and taking my father's hand as he came to my side “Happy Birthday my Daughter” he placed a kiss on my forehead his skin was warm. My mother wiped her tears “That’s right, you’re sixteen today.” They looked at each other in understanding, as if they were talking in a language nobody but them could understand just like how I tried endlessly to communicate with Sirian without words nor actions, a language called “Love”. 

“I apologize for your mom being such a wreck she’s afraid of watching you grow up and me reminding you that you were turning 16 didn’t help much.” He placed a kiss on her forehead like he did mine, yuck. 

I rubbed my forehead with my gloved hand, a chill running down my spine. 

“Sister!”  

“Auntie!” I heard nine voices at once, and when I opened my eyes again I was surrounded by my family, being pounced on by children from the ages of six to the one who just learned they could walk. My entire family was there, my four to five brothers and four sisters, their spouses, and four nieces and nephews. My father let out an old man's belly laugh, almost tipping me over as I crumbled beneath the weight of my nieces, Alliane and Ymir, and their brothers, Selene and Metis. All of them were children of my oldest sister Chivette, a shy twenty-eight years old, and her spouse. She stood side by side with her husband, the captain of the royal guard. Smiling, quietly observing her children destroy the hours of work the maids put into designing me today as my other siblings Colette, Cisset, Cirel, Cecil, Carwel, Carmone, Carmine, and Clovette aka “Clover” began talking to me unable to shut their big mouths.

“Look at you, my children, all here at once–” my mother giggled gently scraping a toddler off of me, in the back of my head I wanted to thank her, but she spoke first” 

“Look at you~ My dearest Selene!” she ogled over the blue-haired child who giggled as they hugged. Her laugh whisked me along intrinsically, and I laughed, Gods it was foolish to even attempt to hide my love for this family. But that’s how teens are supposed to be. I am just a dumb teen girl.

The party continued as normal, and I easily became swayed by the music, the lights flowing onto me like a river into a stream. This scenery was so familiar as if I’d seen it all before and would want to see it a million lifetimes over. I danced with the men who wished to impress my parents, but their sweaty hands filled with nervousness and greed, they could never compare with his. I drank a small portion of wine, but I gagged at the taste of thick pomegranate at the tip of my tongue.

Urgh 

I placed my cup down in search of something better to do than drink, maybe just maybe I could see him. My future, no he will be my husband. I am going to see my future husband, I wanna blush ridiculously and jump up and down, unprincessy, but whatever. 

When I see him from across the ballroom I want him, I want him but ugh, a man with a mustache and slicked-back strawberry hair, stands in my way. I want to punt this man like an air-filled pig bladder. But I gritted my teeth instead, put on my best smile, and did what men thought I should do, smile. 

“Good Afternoon...” My voice nearly cracked but I stopped it just in time,

“Sir,”

He looked up at me his eyes filled with an unfamiliar gaze, his eyes looked up as his gaze focused on me, and I gulped as the man bowed. Rubbing my gloved hands together. But he takes it instead, a shiver runs up my spine. I want my father. 

“Princess Danae, the light of Eden.” His eyes look up to me once more and I’m earnestly being undone. I feel danger, yes that’s what this is.

“Shall we?”

I look into his eyes, his eyes glisten like rainbows beneath the flame high above. 

I can’t help but feel that if our bodies are in contact any longer I would throw up, my stomach bubbled in anticipation. And my body grew cold as I shouldered every emotion within me. 

“Princess?” his voice was sweet, so sweet I could melt into it, that I might fall into it if I listened any further. My eyes closed, and my chest became filled with a hot feeling, panging against its walls like it wanted to escape. He spoke to me like we were familiar, in a mask that I vaguely recognized 

“Hush, don’t say a word, just dance with me” 

Those were the last words I’d hear for a long time.

Mirelle's POV

Every Sleeping Beauty is different. My mother was a Sleeping Beauty, and so was her mother and so was I. My name is Danae, the daughter of Roe, the granddaughter of Indita. My name will be Danae until my 16th birthday. I’m aware of the fate that lies ahead for me, and I’d be lying if I said I weren’t scared. I don’t believe that there is someone out there for me to love, someone that will be my “Prince Charming”. I don’t want to separate from my mother, I’m soft-hearted and I wouldn’t last long in whatever limbo lies between my slumber and my eventual awakening. My father kissed my mother to wake her up, but most of my ancestors haven’t been as lucky. I hope I inherit the luck my grandmother prayed for, that my mother, who didn’t have to suffer the fate of being a crushed flower earned by her birthright, after being born of such a horrible thing. If not… I’ll remember to write a love letter to my daughter, because that’s what the firstborn always is. I’ll write a letter about how much I love her, about our story, and about the reason I died. Because I wouldn’t want to live to see her suffer, I’d apologize and it would end there. 

I want to meet a man, one who’s caring, loving, funny, and charming, and the kind of guy that a girl would find herself fawning over for the rest of her life. I want that more than anything, and I, in this marriage to the prince of Neh’ir will never find that. Tonight is my wedding night, but I’m sure I’ll be in a glass case before dawn, breathing softly in my slumber I think I’d rather die, but being this close to the day of salvation the curse would never just let me die. 

 Tomorrow is my sixteenth birthday, the day my entire life will fall apart in one way or another. But I hope this diary, tucked beneath my bosom survives the hundred or so years I’ll be asleep. I hope my mother and father will be proud of the woman I will become, smiling down at me in heaven. I wish to be like them with someone. They were peasants, but foolishly in love with one another. If things are different I will be like them. We will be like them.

I lay in the bed of my bridal chambers, tears still stained my cheek as I looked down, to the sleeping man who had kidnapped me from my home, destroyed my village, and killed my parents. All to have me. Ironic ain’t it? I should kill him, right here right now, shouldn’t I? The young man beside me is a pathetic waste of space. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, the satin itched and caused nerves to bump up on the side of my thigh. Steadily, I ignore the feeling, as the blanket drapes off my body like grainy butter. I turn to the window, the moon staring down my bare form. As my pitch-black hair voided half of my vision, I pulled it back. I could hear the water dripping from the rooftop onto the limestone below, and guardsmen drunkenly scurried around like insects. I reached to the vanity, my vanity pulling away an unlit oil lamp, rubbing my finger and thumb together over the wick, and in an instant it was alive, dancing between my fingers spreading and crackling like a small child throwing a tantrum, although I tried to hide it a giggle escaped my lips. As it creeped up my hand, my body followed, as it hopped from end to end of my body. I was in a fury of laughter as it tickled me, its heat going everywhere but nowhere at once. It felt so cold but when it touched me it was like something clicked.  

But the feeling of being enveloped by warmth, the snapping of the chains at my feet.

 Ah, 

I’m being touched by something, very warm and feathers come from all around me. It took a few moments to regain my senses and the clock inside of me had struck midnight, its arms strumming my arteries like a guitar. I hadn’t even noticed I collapsed to the floor or that I was fully clothed in a white dress made of feathers that lined my body perfectly. Above all else, I heard it, every memory, every moment I was called “Danae” my name in truth was--

“Mirelle”  

My name is Mirelle.