Poverty was all you knew. Your orphanage had always put you to work; all you did was wash clothes in a bin, churn butter, and make beds. You were a peasant.

But now you are royalty.

"-M'lady. You must stand up straight."

The all too familiar voice of Desmond snaps you out of your thoughts, and you're whisked back to your new room. Golden accents surround you, the large bed is just on the other side of the room; you can almost imagine just how nice it had felt your first night here... It is a stark contrast to how you are feeling now.

Desmond was an instructor of sorts. Ever since you discovered you were a princess—one somehow separated from her family at birth—he has been showing you how to be proper royalty. It has been a couple weeks now, and it seems Desmond will not act any less strict. Good posture, using manners, dancing properly, and even how to play a piano. It was almost too much.

It is extremely hard to stay still with him standing directly behind you, pulling at the ribbons of your corset. Could this thing get any tighter? Desmond simply stares blankly at you through his glasses in the mirror you are both in front of, his head well above yours. Your unseemly decorum was something he'd never quite understand. And while his expression never really held anything other than slight irritation or impassiveness... Perhaps he sometimes found you entertaining.