Chapter 3: The Twelve Dancing Princesses
A conceptual chapter from Grimm's Fairy Tales Remixed: The Shoes That Were Danced To Pieces
Today was so freaking insane, let me tell you. My sisters and I got to watch a prince get beheaded! It was so crazy, he was so scared he was literally shitting his pants. There was so much blood omg I had to turn away for a second I literally could not watch. You probably think I’m being so mean but trust me this prince was so effing creepy. The fact that he thought he would ever find out where we party is just baffling to me, he looked like he’s never been to a party in his life.
Backstory, our dad has been crashing out trying to understand how our shoes get danced to pieces every night, so he’s decreed that any worthy man who can discover where it is we party at night, will inherit his estate and one of our twelve hands in marriage. Like, no offense dad, but you’re like 90 and you’re rich as fuck. Why do you even care where we party at this point? You’re literally gonna die soon.
Another suitor is coming tonight to try his luck. This one is not a prince, he’s a tradesman. He’s super hot and I’d hate to see him beheaded, but if they think I’m gonna let anything get in the way of tonight's party well then, heads will roll.
Here’s the tea. All I did, literally, is offered this guy wine I laced with the sleeping potion that The Witch of the forest gave to us. (The Witch is so freaking chill she hates our dad too so she’s always helping us get away with disobeying him.) He gulped it down without even the hint of suspicion. So easy. Not even an earthquake could wake this man up. Anybody that gullible deserves what they get. Our dad made us leave the door open and gave the suitor his own chambers in the next room over. After a cup of wine, he couldn’t even make it that far, he passed right out. Clueless.
Before we continue, let me break down the lore about my sisters and I. I’m Victoria, I’m the oldest of the twelve, and the prettiest. You always hear “each daughter is prettier than the next" well that’s just a figure of speech and I’m here to dispel that rumor. Yes, we’re all hot, but I’m the hottest and I’m telling the story, so... I’m also the most organized and help keep everyone in line, I spiral if I don’t have a schedule planning out every hour of the day. However, being the prettiest does come with its drawbacks. I’m constantly labeled as a bop, just because I love to party and post selfies in my corset. Deep down I’d really love to get married and have children of my own someday, but don’t tell any of these spoiled princes that, because ick. They’re fun, but I’m saving that for a real man.
My next two sisters, Emmalina & Ellanor are identical twins. Our mother died giving birth to them, and the same pattern happened every third sister. It’s a family curse. After our youngest sister was born, our father swore off having anymore children. He couldn’t bear to lose another wife, and we couldn’t bare to lose another mother, all over this delusional obsession with having a boy. The twins and I are all true blonde, platinum silk, and besides our looks and our luscious golden hair (that we never have to dye) we don’t really have much else in common, we’re so different. Despite Emma & Ella’s differences, they are always together. There is never one without the other, a package deal, they even have conjoined social media accounts.
Next up we have the brunettes. There’s Marianna, Alexandria, & Katarina, all of whom I may add, dye their hair blonde to match our’s. (except for Marianna and we adore her for that.) Their mother was a literal goddess, descending from a utopian land in the far reaches of the kingdom. She had sun kissed skin and eyes that illuminated like the star-dew over the valley. She was gentle and soft, a woman of leisure; petite yet busty, and all of her daughters shapes were molded in her likeness. Mariana is bold in the way she speaks and dresses. She can get slick at the mouth too, she’s not afraid to hurt your feelings if she knows it’s what you need to hear. Alexi & Kat are both brilliant, they run circles around most of us when it comes to studies, quoting literature, math, and remembering where I left my keys.
Continuing down the line we have our fair-skinned, red-headed sisters, Aubrette, Mariol, & Shaylah. From what we know, their mother was a poor woman, not hailing from any nobility or stature, yet rich with wealth far more valuable than any gold can measure. Physically, she was a strong woman. She chopped wood to light the stove she baked fresh bread in, she slaughtered pigs for bacon, and rumor has it she could catch a fish with her bare hands, like a mama bear plucking salmon from the river. Yet she was as nurturing as she was tough. Out of all twelve of us, her girls are the most connected with nature.
Mariol loves the water, there’s not a day that goes by she’s not swimming or frolicking in the rain, walking barefoot through a brook, or spending an extraordinarily long time in the bath, knowing we’re all waiting on her. Aubrette is the athlete in the family. We tease her and tell her to run with the horses because she’s always wanting to race us. She has a special kinship with animals, and when we tease her, she tells us she’d rather be with the horses anyway. Her clothes are always ripped and filthy, and she’s always got dirt underneath her fingernails. Every few weeks or so we give her a makeover, it’s so fun. Shayla is shy. She doesn’t speak many words, but when she does, they’re profound. She lives in a fantasy land of literature & folklore. Her head is always buried in a book, and that’s where she’s happiest, so we try not to disturb her.
Lastly, there’s our youngest three. Linette & Lanette are another set of twin sisters, identical in nothing but the sound of their names. And then there’s the youngest of all our sisters, Melody. Their mother was a renowned singer, beloved by the whole kingdom. It was said her voice could bring peace to any land at war. Those who were sick ventured for miles to hear her sing, believing the village folk tales that her songs could heal any sickness, like a warm bowl of chicken noodle soup for the soul. Of all of our mothers, it was her I felt the closest. Yet knowing her fate, I kept a safe enough distance.
All three of her girls ooze talent and charisma. But they are also shy, coquettish creatures, pretending not to like too much praise or attention, even though it’s exactly what they live for. Melody’s charm can melt the coldest hearts and change the most rigid minds. Our strictest caretakers, who let us get away with next to nothing, fold for her incessantly, leaving the rest of us baffled as to her ability’s.
Our age gap is a barrier between us. I find myself angry at them a lot. I snap at them at times without any rhyme or reason, expecting them to know things that only come with experience. Sometimes when we fight, and it get’s really ugly, my sisters will tell me how jealous I should be of Melody. They sneer and tell me how when she grows up, she’ll be the most beautiful in all the land, and I’ll just be old and ugly. They know how deep that cuts me, so they dare not to go there unless they feel desperate and backed into a corner. I’m humble enough to know not to push them that far, but I’ve made mistakes and paid for them.
My sisters mean everything to me. And every night, under the glowing moonlight, we dance the night away. Together, in the arms of princes, till the clock strikes dawn, and our shoes are torn to bits and pieces, and our father awakens, furious, and another one of our suitors head’s is chopped off, and we try not to laugh, knowing it’s about to happen all over again tonight.