She woke up late that morning as the sun was beaming through cracks in her curtains. A gentle cold breeze was blowing in the smell of freshly cut grass. One of her demoiselles must have left the window open. She wrapped herself in a crisp bedsheet and got up to peek over her jardin in full bloom. She had no will for yet another game of cards nor the latest gossip over tea and biscuits.
Someone was coming! She ran down to the garden through her secret backdoor and as she made it outside, she felt the cold pavement kissing her bare feet... She was alive. The sun caressed her cheeks and soft gusts of wind pleated the sheet close to her body. She was finally free. She squinted as she looked up to watch birds dancing in the sky only to find herself amid a sea of flowers everywhere in sight. She threw herself down in these buds and petals. Flowers ornated her dress as she rolled around and dew drops embellished her skin and shined like crystals as she stood up to bask in the sun with her hands held up high.
Alas! Her adviser had spotted her and was calling her from the bedroom upstairs. She had to go get ready. Legend has it that the flock of birds swirled down to pick up the train of her sheet as she went back inside and left her with a million feathers so she could fly out whenever she needed to escape herself, whenever she needed to feel like a queen, whenever she needed to be in her garden...