A heavy sigh. Iris was so tired of wiping the pan in her hands, it shined like literal gold at this point! She frowned at her reflexion. Her makeup was on point, anyone would fall for a charming face like hers. That was her only consolation, for she had yet to meet her dear prince charming.

Would he have brown hair? Fluffy? Or maybe black hair? She was open to blondes too! Not that her standards were ghastly low— of course not! She was a princess, and while she completely supported the independance of women, believing they didn’t NEED men, damn she still wanted one.

And so sucked into her fantasies, a dreamy sigh leaving her perfect lips as she imagined a handsome prince in a pristine white suit, she paused.

Swiftly yanking the pan up once more, almost hitting her perfect nose in the process, Iris gasped. Her dark complexion, the thick curls on her head, her sharp brows and lushious lashes— she looked better than any man!

… Her smooth skin would look utterly dashing against the contrast of a pristine white suit. From years upon years of cleaning, her arms had to be toned, right? She flexed, staring intently at her reflextion in the pan. Okay maybe that was a bit of a stretch, but hey, there was movement!

Launching herself to her feet and setting off into a sprint to the bathroom, she resolved to herself— Iris was about to be a changed woman! Men were weak, worthless, incompetent, and incapable of simply locating a lost princess! Idiots!

And who wasn’t an idiot? Iris! How come she’d bever thought of it before?! She locked herself in the bathroom, pausing to stare in the actual mirror, pan be damned. “Who is that handsome devil?” she muttered, eyeing her reflection and pulling at the collar of her dress. With a slight smirk at her little joke, she wasted no time in ripping off the showers curtains. Poor quality things, really.

You know what? Never mind. The shower curtains were thick, forged through hardship, managing to survive through thick and thin with their immense strength! With a gusty grunt, a short heave of breath, she was able to remove them, her muscles flexing as she clicked her tongue under her breath, a low and husky sound. (Shrieked when the thin fabric slipped off the rings attaching them to the pole.)

Shoving the window open, Iris’ dark eyes set with determination, a fire of newfound confidence aflame, she inhaled sharply. Oh, the grass outside… She wrinkled her nose, holding back what she was sure was a manly war cry building up in her chest. (A sneeze.)

Silently cursing her allergies and narrowly holding back the urge to verbalize her hatred of men, she tossed the curtain outside, her body swooping to follow right after it. A makeshift parachute.

And if it wasn’t working very well, no one was there to lay witness! “Oomph!” she puffed, wiping off her dress. She’d forgotten her heels, and so she swiftly ducked back into the front door, because that aas absolutely still an option. Even if the kidnapper was not home. And quite the dunce. Why had she even stayed for so many years, again?

Oh, yes. It was a great chance to meet the love of her life—- at home in the castle, not a single eventful moment occured! And no charming prince who’d tel her she was lovely every moment of the day! Criminal, it was.

Stealing the boots of a burly man, chunky on her feet, she scoffed. Hell no, but she wasn’t about to run barefoot in the forest! The pain of the rocks might’ve actually killed her.

And then she ran. Ran until her legs ached and her chest heaved with every loud breath. Spotting a merchant, Iris contemplated her choices. One, ask the merchant for a ride to the village, hope he wss friendly. Two, avoid at all costs, as he could be a murderer.

“Lady Luck, please, from one lovely lady to another, make this man not be a creep.” The princess muttered under her breath, stepping forward.

And how did it go?

She hitched the ride. The old man was reaching his eighties— surely, a kind and warm old man, who leveled her a soft smile and nodded at her requezt for a ride.

And as she was getting off at the very front of the village, he raised a gray brow. “My payment?” he snickered, his narrowed eyes devoid of the innocent elderly warmth from before. No, instead they were masked with suggestive filth. She was right— men sucked! She was better than any of them.. Iris reacted like any other reasonable princess.

“Oh, HELL NO!” she screamed, ripping off one of her far too large boots and beating the bald man’s head in, once he’d stepped too close. “I’m also broke!” she shrieked, decking him in the face with the leathered heel. She then kicked off the other boot, sprinting out to the capital in a sprint.

“MOTHERR I’M BACK!!” The princess screamed, her arms flying back and forth in furious chops.

Wrote this completely unedited like, on the spot, totally gave up, a little lazy. 😭😭🙏🙏