As soon as I enter the ballroom, I feel a thousand heads turn in my direction. Thousands of eyes burn into the back of my brain. Slowly, everybody goes back to what they are doing, but I feel the tense in the crowd. I feel myself being judged, hated, and most of all, I feel their jealousy. For some, it’s the golden curls that delicately frame my face that makes them jealous. For others it’s the price tag associated with my luxury dress. And for a select few, it’s my legacy. They are jealous that I am the prince’s choice for a bride, that I will be the new princess.