Chapter 3 THE BALL 2

He has everything. His room looks like that of a prince. It has a master bedroom, a beautiful king-sized bed, a study room, and lots of musical instruments. I was about to compliment him when a girl about our age walked out of his study room. I must confess she is beautiful. I was admiring her dress when I remembered what Jennifer told me about seducing the prince. The girl in front of me had her makeup done, and her dress was very beautiful, exposing her smooth, creamy skin and parts of her breasts.

"Andrew, who is she?" she asked my brother, who sighed in frustration.

"I'm his wife-to-be, and I have come so that we might get to know each other," I said and walked over to my brother, hugging his hand to my chest and smiling sweetly at him.

"So you chose some American chick over me, a princess?" she said, very annoyed. Did she just call me an American chick? How dare she?

"Yes, he chose me over you, and you are invading our privacy. I want you to leave, now," I said, walking towards her. My brother, who was speechless with the whole event, tried stopping me when he saw me walking toward her, but I ignored him.

"Who are you to tell me what to do? Andrew and I have been friends since we were three years old. How dare you think you can break it up?" she said, closing the remaining space between us.

"I don't care if you guys are childhood sweethearts. All I know is that I want to chat with him, and you will leave this room, call me 'Your Highness,' and cry on your way down," I said, staring fixedly at her.

"Yes, Your Highness," she said and walked like a zombie out of the room. A few seconds later, I started hearing cries. I smiled to myself. This is the third time I have tried this on people, and it worked. At first, I wanted to be scared that I was possessed, but after it saved me two times, I counted it as luck.

When I turned, my brother's mouth was open. I didn't know whether to describe his look as surprise or shock.

"How did you do that? The Anna that I know wouldn't have left this room without fighting, not to mention crying," Andrew asked.

"Well, you're welcome. I know you were trying to get rid of her," I said, ignoring the question.

"Does this mean Mom and Dad were right about you?" he said.

"Right about what?" I asked, confused.

"About the story, the night we were born," he said, assuming I knew what he was talking about, but I was totally lost. What happened the night we were born? I need to know what happened.

"Andrew, what happened the night we were born?" I asked him.

"Wait, Mom never told you?" he asked, surprised.

"No, as a matter of fact, she hates me. She said she regretted ever giving birth to me and that she should have left me at the orphanage the day she divorced Dad," I said and sighed in frustration. I walked over to my brother's bed, sitting down at the edge. He also sat beside me. Even though I just met him after so many years, he recognized me, and I felt we both have a strong bond that our parents can't break.

"I'm so sorry, Mia, for the pain you passed through or are still passing through," he said.

"Tell me what happened," I replied.

"On our tenth birthday, I wanted so much to see you. I told Dad to inform Mom to come with you while coming for my birthday party since Dad normally organized one for me, and Mom made sure she was always there. If she couldn't come, she sent her gift later," he said, looking at me. I was shocked. Growing up, I never received one gift from my mom or my dad, and my birthday was never celebrated.

"And then what happened?" I said.

"That was another failure after attempting to see you many times. I was angry that I couldn't see my own sister. On our fourteenth birthday, I decided to confront Dad. That was when he told me I couldn't see you until we turned sixteen. I wanted to know why, but he refused to say anything until I attempted to run away to see you because I thought maybe something happened to you that they weren't telling me. That was when he opened up," he paused and took a deep breath before he continued.

"The night we were born, Mom was in labor, and the doctors were doing their best to make sure she was stable. Dad said he was present in the room. He said they heard my cry first, and I was taken out of the room to be dressed by the nurse. Mom was already weak and was trying to push you out. After many attempts, the doctor said Mom was too weak to continue pushing, and she was losing a lot of blood already.

The doctors decided to operate on Mom since she was too weak to push, but she insisted on trying more. After a few more attempts, she was able to push you out, but you weren't breathing, and your body was cold. The doctors thought maybe they were too late, but then you opened your eyes and let out a cry. Just as that happened, the whole city went into a blackout. Dad said he looked from the window, and there was no light coming from the city.

The operating room was dark until a light shone from your neck for a few seconds and went off. Then the light returned to the city. No one understood what happened," he said, staring at me.

I was surprised. Then I remembered the mark on my neck; it has been there as long as I can remember.

"Is that the mark on my neck?" I asked.

"Yes. Dad said one of the greatest witches of all time was summoned. She said you bear the mark of darkness. She called you the Dark Princess and said you must be taken away from the palace until you were sixteen. That's all he told me, Mia.

"A witch? I thought witches didn't exist," I asked him.

"They do, but they are rare to find," he replied.

"So that was why Mom hated me so much. Let me guess: I'm the reason they are not together, Mom and Dad."

"I don't know, Mia, but I don't hate you. You are my twin sister. At least now you are back at the palace."

"I'm not here to stay. I will be leaving very soon," I told him, surprising him.

"Why?" he asked.

"Dad wants to marry me off, and I'm not letting that happen. Since they want me to disappear from their life, that is exactly what I'm going to do," I told him.

"Are you crazy? Where are you going to go if you leave the palace, knowing fully well Mom will not take you back?"

"I don't care where I will be going. I just want to have a life for myself, that's all."

"Mia, you don't have to do this."

"You're right. I don't have to do this; I need to do this. Meanwhile, I bet you will make a good king when it's your turn to rule," I said, changing the topic. We discussed other things and what our childhood was like before I went back to my room.

My food was served to me in my room. I guess my father doesn't want to eat with me. I went to the mirror, staring at the mark on my neck and wondering if it is really the mark of darkness. I wish my life could have been easier. If this mark is of the dark, why did it choose me? Does this mean I'm a bad person? I couldn't help but wonder about all of this. The next morning, Eva and Tessa were in my room to get me ready for the ball. I did not hesitate because I had my own plan. They took their time washing my hair and doing my manicure and pedicure.

The fashion designer came, and I started regretting all the ball gowns I was given while I was seated, taking my fruit juice and some snacks. After a while, they all gave up and picked one for me. They did my makeup, then helped me get dressed. After everything, they told me that my dad was already waiting for me.

I dismissed them and told them I would join them soon. Once they were out, I took a pair of scissors and some small flowers from the designer's bag. The dress was too big for me, so I decided to alter it to my taste. I cut the sleeves, making it an off-shoulder, and I also cut the side of the gown, exposing my legs, then used the flowers to decorate it.

When I was sure it was to my liking, I left the room and headed to the ballroom. My mom was a model, so most of her stylists normally designed her dresses at home. I learned one or two things from them.

When I entered the ballroom, all eyes were on me. Most people were wondering who I was, while others were looking at my dress.

Of all the people in the ballroom, the only expression I loved was my dad's.