Protection Brought to You by One Direction

Jasmyn Wilde is a princess. No, seriously, she is. Complete royalty. She is the daughter of King Joseph Anthony Vincent Wilde. Her father married a peasant girl and then they had Jasmyn. Her father was poisoned and anarchy ran throughout the kingdom. Now her father's arch-enemy is looking to take over the kingdom. One Direction secretly works as body guards for a Princess Protection Program and was assigned to take her away from her kingdom - and her mother - for safety. Will the boys succeed or will they let Jasmyn out of their grasp and into the arms of her father's enemy?


2. Transformation

I sobbed the whole way to the private airplane that was going to take me to my new secret location.  When we boarded the plane, the boys that were carrying me sat me down in a seat then went to talk to the pilot. I opened my hands and looked at what my mother gave me.  She gave me her charm bracelet that Father gave her in the tree-house.  I fastened it around my wrist.

I wish I could go stay in Father's tree-house, I thought staring at the bracelet.

Then I sat up suddenly.  What was going to happen to my father's hiding place? Why couldn't I stay there to protect it?  Nobody knew of it except for my parents and I.  I sulked back into my seat thinking of my father and I bursted into a fresh wave of tears.

One boy came back out.  From what I could make out with my blurred my vision, he was tall and had a massive head of hair.  He came over to me and crouched in front of my seat.  I whimpered and backed up as far as possible, turning my face away from him, like a scared child.  I didn't know him.  He could be a part of the people who fired their guns.

The four other boys came out and stood around the first boy and I.

"How is she?" an unfamiliar voice asked.

"Terrified.  She shied away from me."  The boy in front of me had a very deep voice.

The blonde boy of the group extended his hand towards me, but in return I turned my head towards him and stared at his hand like it was a gun.

"It's okay," he cooed.  "You can trust us.  We aren't going to hurt you; we're here to protect you."

"I want to see my mother," I told them.

The boys exchanged looks and the one with the curly hair spoke.  "Look," he replied in his deep British accent, "by you fleeing the country, you are protecting her.  You can't see her until your father's enemy is put behind bars."

"Or killed," piped a boy with brown eyes and brown hair.

"I will do anything to protect my mother.  What else can I do for her?"

"We have to take you to our country.  Your name will have to be changed so nobody suspects who you really are.  If word gets out that you're Princess Jasmyn of Sicily, your father's enemy, Randolph, will come and capture you.  He wants to kill you also.  Randolph wants to become king and take over the entire country of Italy.  And he'll stop at nothing.  The reason that your escape saves your mother is that if he marries her - which he plans to - and you're alive, you will have the throne before he does.  So he needs you dead to have direct access to the throne, after killing your mother first.  He wants to wait for you to return before he marries her so you can stand by helplessly watching.  After the wedding, he would have you killed.  Then after a few weeks or so, he would kill your mother."

"This is a lot to take in," I breathed.

"Don't worry, we'll help you every step of the way," a brunette with crystal azure eyes responded.  "Which means we'll have to teach you to talk in a British accent.  But don't worry, you'll be speaking like a Brit long before you start high school."

"High school?"  I asked.  "I have only been home-schooled.  What does going to school have to do with protecting my mother?"

"You need to blend in as a teenager.  So Stefan suggests you go to high school.  We do what he tells us."

"Did Stefan tell you to tell me what your names are and what you do?"  I asked, wiping my eyes.

The curly haired one handed me a tissue.  "Yes.  Sorry, we forgot; what with explaining everything to you.  I'm Harry Styles," he answered.

"Niall Horan," the one with the thick Irish accent answered.

"I'm Liam Payne," the brunette with brown eyes replied.

"Louis Tomlinson," the brunette with twinkling blue eyes provided.

The last one whispered his name so softly I barely heard him.  I'm guessing he was shy since he didn't say two words since I saw him in the library.  "And I'm Zayn Malik."

"Nice to meet you all; although I wish it was due to different circumstances.  Now what exactly do you do?"

"Zayn, want to explain something this time?"  Harry asked, still huddled in front of my chair.

Zayn sighed and nodded.  "We work for the International Princess Protection Program.  Our job is that we have to protect the princesses we are assigned to.  Usually, a princess only gets one agent but due to the fact that you are highly valuable and you are in great peril, it seems the job would be better handled if five of the agency's best agents protected you."

"Well, we think we're the best.  But you are our first assignment," Niall replied.

"You weren't supposed to tell her that!" Zayn scolded.  "Don't worry, princess.  You are in great hands; we've had extensive training and each of us are beyond prepared for this moment, yeah?"

", well thank you for everything you are going to do."

"One last thing, if you're out with us and a load of girls come up to us screaming, crying, asking for photographs, or autographs, it's because we have careers as pop sensations.  We're the band One Direction.  We had to get that job so nobody would suspect anything.  We can't blow our covers just like you can't blow yours.  Your story is that you are my cousin and you are going to be staying at my house for awhile.  We will explain more in a few moments but our plane is landing and we have to transform you into a typical British teenage girl," Louis replied.

"Come, Princess, it is time to go,"  the man I remembered as Stefan cam out from where the pilot's seat was.  He offered me his hand and I took it.  


After we got into a spacious elevator, we walked into what looked like a fashion office.  I saw mannequins with all different types of clothing on them and I saw other girls having last minute changes being made to their outfits.

"First, we have to transform your name, Princess Jasmyn.  You're new name is Olivia Tomlinson, cousin of Louis Tomlinson," Stefan stated.

"Olivia?" I asked.

"Then we have to change your look.  So come along."

He took me over to a chair with a mirror in front of it.  A woman was standing there with scissors and gloves in her hands.

"I have to cut my hair?" I asked in disbelief.

"Do you want to protect your mother?"  Harry asked.

I nodded and sat down in the chair, clenching my eyes shut.


When I opened my eyes again, my dark brown hair was in layers and I had pink highlights.  I gasped because I wasn't expecting a dramatic change.  Even my curls were gone and my hair fell just above my breasts.

"What do you think?" the stylist asked me.

"It is beautiful.  Thank you," I replied.

"When they start to fade, come back to me, I'll fix them. Or I could go with a whole new look for you."

Stefan pulled me away and took me do a woman designing an outfit.

"Oh hello, Princess! Come right this way!"  She took me to a small room and unzipped my gown.  Then she started to pull things over my head and my legs and tried several outfits on me.  She had me in a pretty baby blue sundress with a white paisley pattern on it.  She gave me black peep-toe wedges and spun me around.

"You don't want to look too British," she said. "You want your own style.  You're character is British, but out of town in a way.  You're British, but then again you're not.  It's perfect!"

I was then taken to yet another woman who did my make up.  She gave me a glamorous look, yet I still looked natural.  There people were talented.

"Hmm..." Stefan mumbled, looking at me.  He was focusing on my ears. "You should get your ears pierced," he told me.

"Um, I think this is good enough.  I can hardly recognize myself as it is," I pleaded.

"It doesn't hurt," Zayn stepped in.  I only now realized he had his first hole pierced.

I must have still looked scared because Zayn said, "I'll hold your hand." And I smiled for the first time that day.


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