This is the first chapter to a book I'm not sure if I'm going to continue. I'd like feedback, good or bad, to help decide. I also cannot for the life of me figure out how to get it less scrunched, sorry sad


Linette breathed in the clear, blue air; for once in a long while, she didn’t feel the tightness of a corset. It was wonderful, her life—finally free of royal responsibilities… or maybe she never had any at all! The warmth of the bright sun hit her face just right and she felt careless, happy, like she could laugh for no reason. Linette stood atop a large, green hill, with grass up to her knees. Wondering what damage it might cause her to roll down it, a voice pulled her away.
“Linette?” her mother looked at her across the table. “Are you alright?” Dawn feigned worry for their father, but knew of her daughter’s fantastic escapades. For a while, the Queen did worry about her daughter’s mental health. So, often when she caught Linette daydreaming, Dawn would ask a question that was not a challenge to her intelligence, just the attention she would pay. Finding that her daughter eventually had no trouble multitasking, she left it be.
“You are my daughter, a princess. How many times have your mother and I told you that queer fantasies are pointless? Linette, it is not acceptable.” He reminded her. The middle child muttered something along the lines of ‘yes you’re right, I apologize,’ like she had done so many times before.
Looking down at her chunky potatoes and juicy pork, she decided to eat faster. Not only was Lance’s cooking more fantastic than her dreams, but she wanted to get back to said dreams. Linette gobbled down the rest in a display of what a princess should not be, and excused herself before either of her parents could protest. As she turned to curtsy, she saw an amused half-smile from her mother. Her brother and sister kept to themselves. The King huffed, but as usual, let it go for now. To retain a little bit of her father‘s sanity, she walked up the stairs rather than galloping like she wanted. The princess may have gotten away with it if her lace-up boots didn’t produce so much noise.
She looked to her left as she droned at an agonizing pace. Portraits of her ancestors lined the wall; starting from King Frederick over four centuries ago. Next was Leonard, Leonard II, Anthony, Queen Georgia after Anthony was assassinated a month after coming to power. The kingdom’s history lined the walls of the castle, not just here. There were portraits of festivals, King Anthony’s service, speeches, and castles everywhere. She returned the stare of each portrait she passed.
Linette stopped at her grandfather, Marcus I, and smiled fondly. The cold painting did not come close to expressing the warmth he had. So often she remembered him holding her, sneaking treats to his grandchildren, and simply being merry.
She remembered a time he had saved her. When her father was only Prince Marcus II, he had caught her drawing. Now, this wouldn’t have been a problem normally, but she had decided she needed a bigger canvas. The floor of her playroom was full of flowers, hearts, stars, trees, and really anything that came to Linette’s mind. Most of it was with a marking stone, but also a little paint when she particularly cared about making a certain picture beautiful. His Majesty’s face was so red it nearly glowed, his fists shook, and he spat out his insults and threats as though they were fruit gone bad. Finally he raised his arm.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” Boomed a voice. Linette started bawling, not another person to yell at her! She dropped to her little knees and covered her head. After a few seconds, she realized her grandfather was not aiming his rage towards her, but her father. “You think you can just hit your daughter because of this? This is wonderful!” Linette was confused.
“This? Wonderful? This is stupidity! This is disobedience!”
“Shut your hole, Son!” The future king was taken aback, how could his father not only accept this, but encourage it? “This is simply creativity, an innocent child’s curiosity! You used to draw, and dance, and play too! How is that you could as a child, but Linette can’t now? I am trying to shape you into a fair, kind king. Hitting your children over this is not acceptable.” With that, her grandfather left.
Linette’s tiny hands clenched as she watched her father’s back rise and fall. Suddenly, he turned so sharply to face her that anyone else would have a broken neck. He sounded tense and shuddering. “You will help Marna clean the floors. If I catch you doing this again, pray that your grandfather is there to save you.” She didn’t move, her father took this as an understanding.

“Dazing again? Or did you never awake from the last one?” Cadence giggled. Linette smiled, and continued walking the stairs with her sister.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Me? Dazing? Why, I’d never!” There was a short silence as the sisters looked at each other before bursting into a small laugh. Cadence stopped first and breathed melancholically. “What’s the matter?”
They reached the top of the staircase and paused. “Father is right, Little Sister. You’re fifteen! I know you’ll hate me to say it, but your daydreaming should stop soon.” Linette’s face dropped. She knew her sister and father were right, though Cadence was the last person she expected to encourage her to stop. Often times the sisters would lie together in bed and pretend to imagine they weren’t… what they were.
They called them “episodes,” when Linette would become Helen, the farmer’s daughter. Cadence would either be Emma or Macy, the baker’s wife. How good it sounded to have to do chores, to be up early and to bed late, to have more responsibilities than just making a good impression! Recently, however, Cadence had had more responsibilities. She’d been staying in her own room alone, thinking of her actual fate. She couldn’t simply be a bread maker every night. Their mother had made it clear to the girls that she expected them to marry before eighteen.
Linette continued to look up at her sister’s firm, but sympathetic eyes. As though she were unable to stand her sister’s disappointment anymore, Cadence turned sharply and continued to her room. Linette looked back toward the pictures, at her grandfather’s; if only pictures could come alive, or the caption under them could say what they would. For now, she sighed and muttered, “Thanks anyway, Grandfather,” and walked the hall in her boots. Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack…
How she hated the way her heels resonated in the emptiness. The sounds were far too distracting, too loud, too… declaring. Many times Linette had tried to find quieter ways to do the simple task of walking, once even adhering bundles of cloth to the bottoms of her shoes. Instead of doing its intended purpose, however, it just made her lose her balance.

Linette exhaled with relief as she got to her carpeted room. ‘You’ve lost again, boots,” she thought smugly. Calm once more, she strode to her bed to take off the wretched things. She untied them like a madwoman, not wanting to think twice about them. Her corset, a light carnation pink, was a bit uncomfortable—her mother was right, she’d never get used to them—but she didn’t want to bother Jayne. As if it were reflex, she immediately sat herself at her drawing desk. Linette often mused that she received the gift so she wouldn’t draw on the floors again. ‘Father needn’t worry about that anymore.’
She sat up straight, picked the quill from the ink and began running smooth lines over the parchment. The tall strokes flowed into a windswept look, clinging the baggy dress to Linette’s skinny form. She frowned at this. If only this weren’t ink!
She would spend hours looking at herself in the vanity mirror when she could. People had always commented that she was too small. In a way she was disproportionate, she had perfect childbearing hips, but her stomach was as flat as the paper she drew on. Her breasts were extremely underdeveloped compared to Cadence’s, she could barely get a handful!
When Linette began her maturation, she would often be told she looked sickly. Her face became less round and what little chub she had around her middle stretched to match her newfound height. Girls around her would grow out and up and all Linette could think was that she needed to eat more, which succeeded in making her sick.
Nonetheless, she continued drawing her tiny frame. Her arms outstretched, inviting the wind and small clouds for a hug. The dress reached her knees; the long curves of her calves were exposed, and both feet remained bare. She smiled, her poor self-image forgotten, the toes were her favorite things to draw. Each of them remained hidden and unthought-of throughout the day, until they began to ache. They were happy little things.
A while ago, Linette debated with herself about toes and fingers. She had come to the conclusion that hands and fingers were far too pampered: gloves were made of silk and other soft materials; fingers are longer than toes, and obviously more useful; hands are kissed. ‘Why are feet shoved into uncomfortable leather boots all day? And who’s to say toes can’t be useful? There has to be more reason to be able to wiggle them than just that!’ She pondered this for a long time. Finally, Jayne, her personal assistant—Linette didn’t like the word “servant”—answered her questions.
“There are dangerous things on the ground, Linny,” she had said. “Even in this castle of yours. You wouldn’t want to be walking around barefoot and step on glass, would you?” Linette feverishly shook her head. “As for shoving feet into terrible aching shoes, well,” Jayne started. “That’s for the end of the day.” She smiled her famous smile, with one tooth missing in the front and center, and left it at that.
Linette wasn’t satisfied. “What do you mean? At the end of the day we take the shoes off!”
“Exactly,” and with that, she left the princess to figure it out. After a few days, she realized that every time she took her boots off, a sense of relief washed over her and her toes.
Remembering her drawing, Linette shook her head and went back to work with a fond smile. She was smiling, her wiry waves were barely lifted by the wind. She seemed to stand on the hill she was thinking of rolling down earlier, though the grass was much shorter. ‘Note to self,’ she thought, “Don’t roll down that one, there’s not nearly enough cushion.’
“Hello, Linny!” A high-pitched voice greeted behind her. She looked behind her and saw Jayne standing there with a basket of laundry. Linette nearly jumped from her chair and hugged the woman. Jayne was only slightly older than Cadence, but has still provided a love like a mother’s. The girls released each other and began talking.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in such a good mood after having done laundry,” observed the princess. She knew that’s what Jayne hated the most.
“For good reason too! You’re always spilling ink or dropping food… Ah, but you actually left your corset on for me to help you with.” Linette smiled sheepishly, her assistant had already had to repair another one from the royal daughter trying to do it herself.
“So why the mood today, am I growing up? Was laundry easier?” They often teased each other. Jayne smiled her smile and looked at Linette.
“I’m going to be a mother!” she exclaimed. The princess was in shock, her face went from shock to ecstasy immediately. The girls hugged and chattered about what it’s going to be like, names, eye color, and other things they would hope for.
Linette had known that Jayne was married, and that her husband raised livestock, but the thought of them having children had somehow never crossed her mind. “This is so great, Jayne!” The older girl nodded, obviously excited. She hadn’t seen that look in a long while. When Jayne first came to the castle, she was Linette’s age, and had never been in such a royal, magnificent place before. The king had given his middle child the task of showing her around. The energy-filled girls bounded and skipped through the halls; each different area made her smile grow. When they returned to His Majesty, Jayne was nearly shaking with joy.
The king, ever the prude, gave Jayne a cold stare and explained, “This is a job, it does not put you in the royal class, and don’t think for a second that it might!” Her face visibly faltered, but only for a few seconds before straightening up and meeting his eyes.
“Yes, sir.” The two words seemed to be enough for him. The shine in her eyes however hinted at her vigor to be there in the castle. The girls were soon best friends
But now, now Jayne was pregnant and happy and going to fulfill the destiny she had so often seen herself doing. Linette knew, just from the years they had known each other that her assistant would make an amazing mother. Her closest friend, a mother-figure, a sister without the blood, a good wife, a happy maid…Linette couldn’t help but be envious. Eventually, she knew her day would come, and she would be married to a prince, a duke, a baron, or a lord.
Linette dreamt that night about Jayne’s future child. In her unconscious state, the mom-to-be had a little boy with his two front teeth gone. He had nappy, black hair sprinkled with dirt from playing. He was skinny and tried to appear bigger, puffing his chest, looking down his nose, holding his arms out slightly. Suddenly he popped, and was taller than her. Handsome as well; his dark skin was clear and his bright blue eyes stared down at her. He leaned down and got right next to her ear, Jayne’s son breathed on her just right to make her spine tingle and her heart pound like her boots, but faster and faster.
Finally, he spoke. “I’m Matthew.”
Linette’s eyes opened slowly. Had she just dreamt of Jayne’s unborn son seducing her? She tightly shut her eyes, trying to remember. All she could think of was the warmth of his breath. Her heart beat fast again, this was all weird. She looked around her room, but only saw outlines of furniture. The princess rolled over and slept again.

The next morning, Linette woke without dreaming of anything else but Jayne’s son, Matthew. ‘She can’t be too far along; she doesn’t even know if it’s going to be a boy!’ She thought, removing the comforter. Still blinking to see, she walked to the connected bathroom and slipped her night gown over her dark waves of hair. Linette cursed at whatever gave her such difficult hair. She knew her grandmother, former Queen Olivia, had had the same wiry locks. Cadence had a replica of their mother’s hair: fine, but straight, easily managed, and lighter than her own… more of auburn than brown. The middle child always dreamed of what she could do with her hair if only it were straight! Pulling the comb through her hair, she braced herself for the overnight tangles that had arrived. She dreaded the daily task of managing her mane; every day, without fail, she would find herself massaging her scalp apologetically.
Wincing in pain, she watched herself in the vanity. Her eyes were squinted. She blinked and opened them wide, coming an inch from the mirror. Linette often noticed her brown eyes having green specks in them, which she enjoyed as it made her feel like she had a secret. Not even Jayne or Cadence had known about the hints of green in her russet-tinted eyes. Moving down, her nose had a slight touch of freckles. Her parents had thought they were a sign of disease, but instead, they were simply dots on her face. Lower still, Linette smiled at herself. She took pride in how often she washed her teeth, at least compared to the men in her family. She wasn’t even sure how long it had been since her brother had washed his, they had been yellow tinted for a while now. Grimacing, she stopped and stood.
Another daily routine was a dreaded one, her “test.” She took a deep breath, put her feet together, stood straight, and looked down. She had failed once more. Linette could still see her toes past her breasts. What made this all the worse was that she didn’t have abnormally large feet, ‘just an abnormally small bosom,’ she resentfully thought. Sighing, she removed her underclothing and bathed.
After she dried and clothed herself, she returned to her desk. Linette lightly filled in little details in her drawing: the windswept folds of her dress, puffy clouds, the circles of her knuckles. She was never one to let a picture go unfinished.
Finally she put the quill back in the ink and smiled at her artwork. ‘Whatever you do,’ Linette reminded herself bemusedly, ‘do not show this one off!’ However she finished her thought out loud, sadly. “Not even to Cadence.” She took a last look at her happy, careless posture and crumpled the paper into a ball. The princess solemnly walked the length of her room to the corner where the fireplace sat calmly, not yet set ablaze. Strategically, she hid her newfound trash amongst the logs.
The grandfather clock behind her began to chime, it was already seven! ‘Jayne’s running late?” The young princess wondered. It had happened before, so Linette knew what to do to save her friend. She found the matchbox between her mattresses and started the fireplace up. Her hands struggled with her stockings, and laced up the cruel, cursed boots. All of this was her assistant’s job usually, though Linette could do it herself. The one task she had yet to master yet was her corset. She picked one from her closet and laid it on the bed. It was a simple red piece with green leaves embroidered on it.
Linette huffed at it, not seeing why she had to wear one. She was skinny enough without it, though her mother had always said, “It doesn’t necessarily finish you, just the dress.” She glared at it once more and set her attention to the fire. The hills were probably all black by now and her hair gray and smoking. The girl she once was would be sure to show every picture she made to her parents. Sometimes the king and queen would go through a dozen at a time. That changed after the royal family’s visit to Quarite. Each young girl she talked to had a distinctive face, even under the dirt and grime. A simple picture of them gathered together with herself in the middle (dirt, non formal dress, and all) nearly killed her father.
“What is this?” he began innocently.
“It’s me and the girls from Quarite! See? I’m right there!” She pointed to herself with her curls and square face amongst the others. The King stared for a moment and realized the implication.
“Linette, why are you dressed like this?” His tone was silenced slightly, as though he wanted to blow up, but was keeping himself from doing so.
“I thought it might be nice to not have to wear all of the fancy clothes and the dresses look so comfortable!” Her father nodded, and did what she would be doing soon. He crumpled it up and threw it into the fire to his left. “But Daddy—“
“You will never put yourself on that level! No child of mine will dress like a peasant! Do you understand?!” He was grabbing her shoulders with a force that could nearly kill her if his hands were around her neck. What happened next made Linette sure never to utter the word again.
“But—” As soon as it left her mouth she felt a stinging across her face. Hot tears poured down her cheeks as her father left her there to sob.

So as Linette sat there thinking about her picture set ablaze, she knew what she was doing was right.