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I am Lady Chantelle

Once you are at your new home, life very soon settles down to something approaching normality.

You learn all of things that a girl born to your station in life should know.

You have a governess to educate you to a level where your knowledge will not make you an embarrassment in polite society.

You are taught deportment and etiquette.

The thing which you hated at first, but gradually endured, and later enjoyed, was how to dance. You learn how to dance with a partner - a man!

As weeks turn to months and then to years, you really do come to think of yourself as Chantelle, and begin to grow quite fond of Prince Alexander.

Then you reach your eighteenth birthday, and a huge ball is held by the King in your honour.

You do your duty, and dance with all of the young men as they ask you, but are delighted when the young prince asks for the next dance.

The two of you dance together ever closer, and eventually he steers you out of the doors onto the patio. There he holds you close, and plants a tender kiss on your lips. All thoughts of when you were a man seem so hazy.

The prince tells you that his father intends to announce your betrothal that very evening. Your heart skips a beat as you fall into his arms, and tell him that you can think of nothing that could want more.

Held in his arms an idle thought pops into your mind of when the prince had kissed you, and how thankful you were that it hadn't been a princess!


Written by Karen Ford (with minor edits by Phaedrus)

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