"Have you heard?" a lady standing near me said to another, holding a fan over her scarlet lips. "People say that the prince has been possessed by a demon."

I couldn't help but be intrigued by their conversation, and turned to them. The group of girls were huddled together, a group of brightly-colored gowns and hairpieces.

"Possessed? Ridiculous," another girl replied, scrunching up her nose. "Everyone says the Prince is absolutely flawless." What she said was true: the Prince has been said to be Taraxac's only hope, especially after the King fell ill from undetected food poisoning.

"Well, if he is, then why was The Dandelion System made?" the first girl argued. "They say sometimes he becomes extremely violent and hurts people. Rumor has it that he's locked up right now."

All the girls looked at each other and shook their heads.

"The Dandelion System is a chance to give girls all over Taraxac a chance of being the future Queen!"

Tonight was the Middle Classes's Ball to choose contestants for The Dandelion System. It was lively, with hundreds of ladies from over the kingdom gathered into the castle, dressed in their best, eating what we have never eaten before, or listening to the orchestra, which was a rare event for us. Only twenty final contestants can be chosen, five of nobility, five of upper class, five of middle class, and five of lower class. Yesterday it was the Upper Classes' Ball. The day before that was the Nobility's Ball. Today it was the Middle Classes' Ball. Tomorrow it would be for the last class, the Lower Class. Supposedly, the flourish of the balls decreased with each day, but I wouldn't know.

The ballroom was lined with tables covered by patterned tablecloths, numerous dishes of food and drinks set neatly on top. Some maidens chatted while others ate. A few bolder ones danced in the clearing. No matter where I turned, all I saw were young women.

I didn't have any friends my age, so I didn't know what to do. My whole life I only ever played with my older sister, and neither of us danced. Although the food here was undoubtedly luxurious it didn't suit my taste. Even the dress I wore was borrowed from a family friend—everything here was foreign to me.

As I walked away from the group of girls who were still arguing about the state of the prince, I felt someone bump roughly into me.

"Oh no!"

I turned around to see a girl holding her fingers to her lips and staring wide-eyed at the skirt of my dress. I followed her eyes and looked down to see pudding on the skirt of my dress. The cream colored pudding stands out from the light blue of my gown. My family friend's gown. I felt my heart grow heavier by the moment.

"I am so terribly sorry!" the girl exclaimed, fumbling to pull out a handkerchief from her bodice. She bent down to wipe my dress but her long hair dipped into the mess too.

"Oh no, it's fine," I said quickly. We were getting looks from others. "I was leaving anyway," I added. I helped pull the girl up and noticed that her golden hair was now smothered in sticky pudding.

"I'm very sorry, I'm not used to these heels," she whispered apologetically. She lifted the hem of her dress to show me her tall heels. It really looked uncomfortable. I smiled.

"It's fine, I had to return anyway," I assured her, hoping she wouldn't apologize anymore. It made me uncomfortable, especially since she seemed so genuine. She smiled in return.

"Thank you for being so kind. Your dress was lovely, I'm sorry I ruined it."

I pulled by my skirt, making sure most of the pudding had been wiped off and wouldn't drip onto the floor as I made my way out the ballroom. It was much better in the hallway as the music became fainter and the lights dimmer. Not to mention there were no longer have wide hooped skirts bumping into me and I didn't have to turn into another tower of hair. I laughed to myself.

Soon I was making my way down the hallway to the entrance outside.

"Ma'am?"

I turned to the voice behind me. A man was walking up to me and judging from his attire and badge he was a Royal guard.

"Excuse me, all the girls here for the ball have to remain in the ballroom." I stuttered to speak.

"My gown is stained, so I was thinking of leaving." I said, gesturing to my dress. "I don't mind being disqualified."

The guard frowned. "Are you sure? This is a chance girls wouldn't miss even if their feet was bleeding from dancing." I chuckled.

"You have a point, but I don't think I'd be so lucky." The guard laughed heartily.

"Well then, goodbye and have a good night, ma'am."

The guard left, and I sighed.

"What a pity."

The voice was soft, belonging to that of a young female—and yet mature. I looked round to find the source, then saw a girl approaching from down the hallway, where there were no lights.

"You don't think you will be chosen?"

The girl continued to look at me, and I was mesmerized as she stepped into the light. Her hair, which I had thought was a pale yellow, was completely white, braided and looped delicately behind her head where a silver tiara sat. Her dress, too, starting from her neck and spanning to her bodice, was made from beautiful lacework. Even the long earrings that dangled from her ears were refined.

"I—I don't see why I would."

She smiled, and although she couldn't have been older than me, seemed wise at that moment.

"Don't you know life has surprises? When you least expect it, they come, and if you aren't ready, you'll be the one who has to pay." She seemed to smirk, but I wasn't sure.

"I see," I said, feeling my hands clam up. I turn back to the door of the ballroom but then waver. Did I really care about the ball, nor the prospect of marrying the prince? No, I would rather be home with my older sister.

I turned around to the white-haired lady.

"I think I will leave, then."

"What?" The surprise in her voice was evident. "But there's a chance."

"I understand." I smile. "Thank you for the notice, and I bid you a good night."

I turned away and was ready to walk down the hallway when the girl spoke again.

"Wait!" She sounded younger now, almost like she was scared. I turned around quickly—and she looked away, as though I had stared into some deep, private part of her. "You can't leave the ballroom, but you may come upstairs and borrow a dress."

I frowned.

"Oh no, I cannot; I'm only here for the ball."

"I'm the princess, I give you permission," she replied, annoyance evident, and I stood there motionlessly, eyes widening with the realization that I was talking to the princess.

In Taraxac there was one prince, and two princesses. I suppose this is the older one—the younger one is but a baby. The Royal children were rarely seen, which only fueled the dramatic rumors that spread in Taraxac.

She seemed like my age, maybe even older than me. If I remember correctly, she's should be two years younger than the prince, therefore sixteen—yet her face was set in a scowl, matching her monotonous voice. Her lips were painted a dark shade of red, standing out from her pale, almost colorless, skin. Although she was a princess, she was nothing like I had imagined.

"Come," she said.

Sensing that I had no choice, I stepped towards the princess, cautiously, as she walked further down the dark hall.

The princess glanced at me over her shoulder, making sure I was following. I noticed her white lashes were thick and long, like snow was piled up on her eyelashes. Her light blue eyes examined mine carefully before she turned away abruptly without saying anything. Once we reach the end of the hallway she walked up the staircase gracefully, back perfectly straight, the sound of her heels hitting the marble steps echoing through the empty hallway.

I continued to walk up the stairs after her, the alarmed faint music of the orchestra fading with the faint light. It felt akin to walking into a cave—but some might say venturing into the castle is far more dangerous.