A/N:

Hey to you!  This story is about how Queen Daria and King Jerrold met when they were young.  I hope you enjoy reading this!  =)

Prologue

A young girl at the age of ten climbed up a sycamore tree effortlessly, as if she had been doing it her entire life.  When she reached a certain height that was about twelve feet off the ground, she sat down on a sturdy branch.

The wild wind blew in all directions, and the girl's wavy, black hair gently whipped her face.  Her blue-green eyes travelled to the north, where the magnificent and enormous palace of Kyrria stood.

She heaved a soft sigh, and imagined (like many other girls her age) that she was a princess who lived in a palace like that.  She replaced her plain, soot-and-ash-stained dress into an elegant, lilac-coloured dress made out of fine silk.  She even dared to imagine a golden crown on her head with tiny jewels on it.

"Daria, you lazy girl!  Get down from that tree at once!" a shrill voice commanded. 

The girl sighed.  "I'll be down in a minute," she said.

"No, you dolt!" the voice replied.  "You will come down now!"

Daria knew by the way the order sounded that she had no choice but to obey.  She stole a final look at the castle, and started to descend down from the tree.  At the bottom, she was greeted by Babelle, the shrilly female.  She was a very plump woman around the age of forty-seven, with cold eyes, stern lips, and dark brown hair in a tight bun that was quickly turning into grey.  She was wearing a simple, brown-coloured dress with a white apron on top.

"Did I not tell you to stop climbing that stupid tree?!" Babelle shouted. 

"I-I…"

"Shut it, girl!  You are so dim-witted that your tongue is completely useless."

Daria felt a large hand hold the scruff of her neck a little too tightly.  Despite the pain, she did not complain. 

The bitter, elderly woman pushed Daria towards the back door of the mansion while she scolded at the same time.  "Like I said before, you are a very disobedient and lazy girl!  If you had parents, I suppose you would turn out quite all right…but then you don't!  How much should I expect from an orphan?"  She grunted.  "You know, I would love to tell Sir Michael or Lady Valene about your behaviour, but where would you go if they dismiss you?  The streets are pitiless and cruel, remember that!"  They entered through the back door, and were welcomed by the dimness of the massive kitchen.  

"Now, I want you to scrub the floor in the banquet hall.  I—"

"I just scrubbed it yesterday!" Daria interrupted.  "My hands and knees are still sore because of it!"

"You will scrub it again," Babelle said with a dangerous tone.  Then after a pause, she said in a calmer voice, "A feast will be held there in two days, as you already know.  When I come to inspect it in two hours, I want to see it spotless.  Now, hurry up and start!  I do not want to see you standing there like a mindless oaf!"

Daria obeyed at once, which was something that she had been doing ever since she was old enough to do work.

*              *              *

Daria bit into her biscuit. It was old and stale like usual, but she didn't care.  It was food that had the ability to satisfy her hunger.  Then she climbed on a tall stool, winced when she felt pain.  She had just finished scrubbing the wide and lengthy floor of the banquet hall, and not only were her hands and knees more raw than ever, but her whole body ached terribly. 

She sighed softly.  "Afrella, do you think there are people here who have lives like those in fairy tales?" she asked like an innocent child. 

Afrella, the cook, sighed impatiently.  "Oh, Daria," she said wearily.  "I told you not to bother me with such nonsense!  When will you ever bring sense into that ridiculous mind of yours?"

"I-I just…"  Daria's trembling voice trailed off.

Afrella glanced at the little girl, and saw that she was at the verge of tears.  "Oh, Daria," she said softly.  She walked over to her, and gave her a big hug.  "I'm so sorry.  I'm very stressed out about the feast.  I have a lot of cooking to do, and there is only one me."

"I understand…."

Suddenly, one of the servant's bells rattled wildly.  There were eleven bells in all, and they were connected to the eleven main bedrooms of the mansion.  They hanged on the wall in one straight line, each with the power to summon a servant.

"Go, Daria," Afrella said.  "I'm too busy to see what the mistress wants."

"I don't like Lady Valene," Daria said quietly.  (The bell kept on ringing madly.)

"Do not speak ill of the mistress, Daria.  Remember that you are no more than a servant of this household."

Daria sighed, and very reluctantly stood up from her wooden stool.  When she was at the threshold of the door, she asked one last time, "Can I please stay, Afrella?"

"Go, Daria," Afrella said.  Her voice was firmer and angrier now.

Daria left the kitchen without another word.  Afrella was a kind woman, but her wrath was something that should not be stirred.

*              *              *

"Finally, you're here!  I've been waiting for decades, you slow dimwit!"

A thirty-nine-year-old woman was sitting comfortably on her humongous bed.  Her auburn hair was fixed in an exaggerated and fancy way, and her hazel eyes followed Daria's every move.  A very large mole (though she called it a "beauty mark") was planted on her left cheek.  She was an enormous woman who tried to hide her figure with an overly tight corset.  She was clothed in a midnight blue dress that a woman her age (and size) shouldn't wear. 

"I'm sorry that I'm late," Daria mumbled.

"You're forgetting something, you rude lummox!" she growled.  "Say it again, and say it the right way."

It took all of Daria's willpower not to furiously storm out of the massive bedroom.  "I'm sorry that I'm late, my lady," she muttered.  She clenched her fists behind her back.

"That the ticket!"  She presented a fake smile, which showed the gap in her yellow, food-stained teeth.  She continued and said, "I would throw you out of this house if I could, but my husband pities you.  A girl as young and as skinny as you is completely worthless."

Not this speech again, Daria thought dully.

"Well, I suppose I should show sympathy as well, but you are so filthy and smelly that I don't think you deserve such kindness."

Do you want an apple to put in your mouth?

"Anyway, bring me a glass of water.  I'm thirsty."

"Is that it…my lady?" she asked as she tried hard to hide her anger.  For every step she took from the kitchen to the bedroom, a throbbing pain was brought to her muscles and bones.

But Lady Valene sensed the young girl's rage.  A satisfied smirk appeared on her face.  "Yes, that's it," she said.  "Be back shortly, my dear."

Daria walked off in a calm way, but inside, her blood pressure was at a dangerous level.

*              *              *

Daria gazed admiringly at her one, prized possession.  She was lying down on her uncomfortable bed, with a pile of old straws to play the role of a mattress.  Every time she made a slight movement, the straws would make noises in a very irritating way.  That was one of the two reasons why she wouldn't move.  The other reason was that she felt soreness all over her joints whenever she shifted her worn-out body.

The pale moonlight shined on the treasured item she held in her hand.  It was a bunch of small, gold rings connected to each other to make one chain…a bracelet.  There was only a single charm attached to it.  The charm was like a regular-sized gold coin with a deeply engraved pattern of a phoenix on it.  Since the pattern was very elaborate, Daria like to imagine that it was carved by Agulen. 

She sighed as she thought about her wretched life.  She was brought to this household at the age of two.  The mysterious, heartless woman who brought her here told Sir Michael that she would give Daria for free.  She convinced him that Daria would be a fine servant someday.  Sir Michael, who always boasted to people about how many servants he owned, couldn't resist.  He said yes to the anonymous woman, and from that day on, it was Afrella who became Daria's guardian.

On the day when the two-year-old arrived in the mansion, it was Afrella who found the bracelet in the little girl's pocket.  Afrella was an honest woman, so she planned to keep the expensive item until she felt that Daria was mature enough to keep it for herself.  Only two weeks ago, Afrella presented the bracelet to Daria, who took it joyfully.  

Daria was by herself most of the time.  Afrella was always busy, for both Sir Michael and Lady Valene enjoyed eating food.  They had such enormous stomachs, that Afrella was found in the kitchen most of the time.  Daria did not like this because Afrella was the only person in the household who was kind to her.  The other servants, especially Babelle, mistreated her all the time.  They always gave her the toughest chores, ignoring the fact that she was only ten years old.

Daria clenched her fists.  Like Afrella, her temper was something that should not be toyed with.  She hated her life…the chores, the pain, the other servants, Lady Valene…pretty much everything.  Though Afrella was kind to her, the kindness did not balance out the cruelty that she received everyday.

From that day on, Daria loathed all those lads and lasses who had an easy life of their own. 

A/N:

Well, that was the prologue!  I'm sorry if it was too short.  Don't forget to submit a review!