I didn't feel so good.

My arms were aching because of the constant struggle to take off my dress. The hook at the back wouldn't budge a single inch no matter how hard I tried. If that wasn't enough, I had somehow managed to get my braid stuck in them and I couldn't even move my head. Everything hurt like hell. To think that women in the Victorian and medieval eras used to do this all the time.

"F-Fleur!" I called, helpless. I was so done with the dresses here. Everyday, Martha helped dress me up, knowing that I can't do it myself. And she's damn right! I can't. Each dress consists of a lot of layers. In the right order, we've got an undershirt, some white knickers, a corset which usually takes the life out of me, a busk, a corset cover, a petticoat, a bustle, another petticoat (this time with excessive ruffles), a blouse, something called a garniture a.k.a elaborately decorated skirt, and to top it all of...some heavy accessories.

All of this usually takes a long time to put on and take off everyday. And it's very much impossible to do it all on my own. So right now, I was attempting the impossible.

"Ehegassa na Mortia! Your Highness!" Fleur appeared outside the door. "What's happened?" I noticed that her voice had a very deep foreign accent. Meaning that she didn't sound like she was around here. Most people at the palace had a very modulated and silvery accent. Though she was speaking the same language, she spoke in a very deep, singsong voice.

"Help me take this off?" It was as if I had asked a question. I wasn't even sure if she could do it because I had gotten my hair so badly tangled.

"Egad! Princess..." Fleur opened the door without a single trace of hesitation and gasped when she saw me. "O' Great Priestess, help us!" she cried, attempting to detangle my hair from the hooks. "CrasiSio! This is bad." Tell me about it.

Fleur attempted to pull the hair out but her constant pulls made my scalp feel like a lawnmower. Electric pains shot up in my head.

"Enough," I said, rubbing my scalp. "Just cut it."

Fleur gasped so loud I wondered if Sir Gradral might come to check on us. Tears appeared in her eyes as she fell down, sprawled on the floor in a very brazen manner.

"What will the people say!?" she sobbed dramatically. "That the notorious Fleur Gratiana cut the Crown Princess's hair? Her rare, lilac hair!? Fa Muska! Nay, I cannot risk that. There has to be another way!"

Still in pain, I weakly rolled my eyes at her.

"I'm gonna cut it myself, then," I said, stepping carefully out of the dressing room and searching for something sharp. A scissor might help.

"Ah NO, Your Highness!" She grabbed onto my ankle, startling me and almost toppling me over. "You mustn't." She was still sobbing on the floor. If this was the right time, I would've certainly recommended her to join the theaters.

"Let go of me," I said, trying to free my ankle. My eyes, though, were still searching around for a blade. "Fleur Gratiana, this is an ORDER!"

"Noo...not an order..." She gradually let go of my ankle. I looked down at her, worried at the state of her sudden, unmoving body.

"Hey," I said, uncertainly nudging her waist with my feet. "Hey, get up."

At first there was no movement. Then her eyes flickered for a moment and her lips moved slowly, trying to form a word. "I can't..." She croaked, her voice hoarse. "Tell my parents I loved them." Then suddenly she jerked awake, her eyes elsewhere, as if she was thinking about something. "But my Papa...I HAVEN'T A PAPA!" She cried out loud. So loud that I heard Sir Gradral's feet thud across the floor as he approached us. With all the noise Fleur was making, I wouldn't be surprised if the whole neighborhood came to check up on us as well.

"MY PAPA! MY PAPA HAS GONE! GONE AHEAD AND LEFT ME BEHIND!" she wailed loudly, beating her hand on the dressing room door. "SO WHO WILL COME TO MY FUNERAL THEN? Mama is back in our country, SO WHAT ABOUT ME!? Princess..." She looked at me, water flowing out from her eyes and her nostrils. "Will you attend my funeral if I die today? Will you?"

"G-Get up first," I said, looking up to see if Sir Gradral could help me sort this out. Whatever this was. But what do you know, he wasn't going anywhere near Fleur. Instead he stood by the far wall looking upon this scene, flabbergasted. Honestly, I understood him. I wouldn't come near someone else if they were in this state as well.

So it meant I had to sort this mess out myself. I was really regretting not taking Christabel up on her offer for accompanying me.

"Fleur," I said gently, squatting down. The movement pulled on my hair and a sudden surge of pain shot through my head. Bad, but not unbearable. "Fleur, of course I'll come to your funeral. If you die, that is. But I'm sure you won't die. Not today."

Fleur looked up at my face and sniffed loudly, the noise of her snot wriggling up echoing through the store. "Really?" She wiped her tears in one swift motion of hand. "Am I really not going to die? Then what about the people who will come after me for harming your hair?"

"There will be no such thing." I chuckled. "I'll have you cut it ever so skillfully, so that no one notices." The truth was, I didn't really care about my hair. When I had first come here, I was very shocked when I discovered the actual length of this Princess's hair. It was very long, long enough to reach down to my knees. That kind of hair was a big no-no for me. Back in my world I always made sure to keep short, ruffly hair. Short like a badly cut bob. Smaller, even. I kept that length because it was just more convenient for me.

When I moved to Incheon, I started to take up PE at school. What those short, half-an-hour lessons taught me was nothing compared to what I learned by observing the regular athletic people at the park back in Daegu. But still, I got to do some bicycling and track. In all of these activities, many realized that hair proved to be a great hindrance for them. But me and my short hair cruised through the lessons without meeting at the mouth even once. Perks of having short hair. I don't know why boys got to keep all the best bits for themselves. If they can have short hair, why can't I? So I didn't understand when the other girls made fun of my hair. I mean, does hair have a gender? Not when I last checked, it didn't.

Anyways.

Fleur got up after I assured her a couple more times that nothing bad would happen. Then she went back behind the counter up front and rummaged under it a long time. Meanwhile, I waited by the dressing room, leaning against the wall. Sir Gradral, after making sure there could be no other complication, went back to seat himself on the bench by the door.

"Aha!" Fleur cried distantly. "Found it."

Then she came back to the dressing room, a dagger in her hand.

"Hey, hey, hey! Careful with that." I backed up, not trusting Fleur with a weapon. "H-hand it over..."

"Nay, I always wanted to do this." She smiled. "Come here, Your Highness. Come and give me your hair..."

I backed up till I was all the way inside the dressing room and my back hit the wall. Crap. I had nowhere else to go. "Fleur, hand me the knife. I'll do it myself."

"Nay..."

"FLEUR! It's an order!"

"Aw nooo! Not again." And she reluctantly handed over the dagger.

Sighing, I focused in the mirror, holding the braid in my hand in rather a very awkward manner. One, it's because it was stuck and two, it hurt. I looked carefully at end of my braid, gritting my teeth as I bore through the pain, and I slashed off the hair in one swift blow.

Fleur screamed.

"What now?" I asked sharply, turning around.

Tears appeared in her eyes once again as her hands went up to her mouth. "Y-you cut so much..." She sobbed. "Your hair...your lovely hair..."

"I didn't cut that much," I retorted, checking the damage. Yes, I actually had cut more than I had intended to. I didn't even once think about how others would feel if their Princess suddenly cut her hair, but now that I let the facts sink in...maybe people will be very surprised. And not in a positive way, that is.

I felt for my braid which had now almost opened up because the hair tie had cut up along with the hair. I brought the braid round to my front and brushed off all the access hair left. Hmm. I was inexperienced so the cut was quite choppy but i was used to it. Maybe I should get it properly cut after I get done with the dress. The ceremony wasn't too far away after all.

I checked in the mirror once more just to see the length of the hair now and if people at the palace will notice it. Yikes, the length had shortened up to my upper-thigh. Not such a big difference to me but for the others...well…

"Fleur," I turned around suddenly, startling her. "It's getting late. Just hurry up and show me the dress so I can approve it and leave."

"B-but the fitting, Your Highness."

"I'll send over another dress from the palace when I get home so that you can change the fittings accordingly," I said as I tied my hair in an easy, messy updo so that it would catch nobody's eyes and then I stepped out of the dressing room so I could give the blade back to its owner. Yeah, this route would be easy. I've got loads of dresses that fit me just well.

"No, Your Highness, that won't work," Fleur massaged her temples. "If you need to look good in the dress on the big day, you've got to try it on for me."

For a few minutes both of us just stood there, staring at each other. It was as if whoever looks away first would have to give in to the other's request. I stared hard into her eyes, trying my best not to blink. But Fleur stood there, calmly taking the dirt out from under her nails as her eyes looked into mine, unblinking. Deep...Into my soul.

"Fine," I said, looking away. Can't believe I gave up so soon. Maybe all the tears in Fleur's eyes didn't let her eyes dry out. What a crazy woman.

Well. What's done was done, no need to cry over spilled juice. Or milk...or whatever. I put my hands on my hips and stood in a wide stance. "So? Where's my dress?"

Fleur smirked, her mustache hair flawless. "Oh you wait, Babita.. I'll show you."