Princesses Don’t Cry, They Scheme: Prologue

Prologue: That’s it. I hate pink.

Jyzelle Histhello

Hello to you all. I am Jyzelle Histhello, an emigrant from Earth to Thierr. When people usually change their country of affiliation, I went beyond that. I changed the planet and world I was affiliated to.

In this new magical planet called Thierr, most governing system was the the monarchical system. And I was born – again, if I may add – into one of the most powerful empires in Thierr; Histel Empire. This empire specialized in invention, alchemy, and magic, especially ancient ones.

Most people in Thierr placed grave importance on one’s rank, power, and fairness. They also respected their ancestors a lot, but would also over-emphasize said ancestors’ fault to the future generation so they won’t repeat it.

I, who inherited the most perfect bloodline and appearance to Histel Empire’s number one figure – my ancestor the Founding King Jinsveul Urt Histhello – immediately became the most respected princess from birth. There were some unidentified mutation in the bloodline, but it was still the closest thing to the Founder King’s bloodline in all history.

FYI, my ancestor Jinsveul was called the Founder King even though he was the emperor because of his personal word preference.

Anyway, there was a general tradition among the princesses across the world that they should be given pink and only pink until they were of age.

The Histel royal family took it a bit – no, scratch that, they took it over the top with that tradition and several other traditions.

Hence, I could now calmly and surely say… I was allergic to pink.

My room was pink, my dresses were pink, my milk was pink, my foods were pink, my drinks were pink, they even had a ridiculous rule that every servants who served me had to color their skin pink!!

It was amusing at first, seeing people cosplaying as maids and all pink at that. Their pupils were pink and the eyelashes and the eyebrows…. everything was pink!

But when it was late at night and I wanted to drink milk, please imagine the creepiness of pink servants with wide eye staring at you unblinkingly with the background of cloudy night with eerie trees and the sound of wolves howling somewhere in the castle.

And after months of seeing nothing but pink aside from my own golden hair and pale skin, I got sick of that color.

Why!!!! Why pink!!!!! Why must you torture me so!!!!!!

What gave me a huge shock was my beautiful mother with luscious blond hair, fair skin as if it was snow, and a pair of misty green eyes that always looked at me with boundless affection also… also became pink the last time she visited me!!!!!

Who’s the blasted person who invented this $%*# tradition?!?!!

-Excerpt from ‘JYZELLE HISTHELLO’S RECORD OF INFANT DAYS [RAMBLING]’

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