A Tale of Two Princesses (15 page)

     "Oh, Court, if it was up to me, I'd say...I'd say...oh, but I can't say it. To be married to you, a prince, living in a castle, it's a dream come true, but it's just a dream, someone else's dream."

     "What do you mean?"

     "I, I need time to decide, you see? It's not right to decide for someone else."

     "You only need to decide for yourself. Your mother brought me here for this. The news would over-joy her."

     "I wish I could answer, but, but I can't. And you can't tell anyone you asked me."

     "Pardon?" he said.

     She pulled the ring from her finger, staring at it again for a moment, her heart begging to entertain the possibility. She placed it back in his palm. "Just, just ask me again tomorrow. And whatever answer I give then, then I'll mean it."

     "What will a day change?"

     "Everything," she said, standing up. "Oh, God, I can't stay here."

     "Have I done something wrong?" he asked, standing, putting the ring back in his pocket.

     "No," she said. "You're...you're perfect, Court. Celeste, I mean, I am so, so, so lucky. Any woman would be so lucky to get you. I'm so...jealous of myself."

     "I don't think I've ever heard anyone say that before," he said.

     "Ask me tomorrow, please?"

     "I don't understand," he said, taking a step after her.

     She looked up at him, her lower lip trembling under her mask. This was goodbye, and she had just said hello. How had all these feelings come crashing upon her? She just needed to leave and they would go away, she was sure.

     She stood up on her tiptoes, lifting his mask to his nose, pulling hers up, kissing him again. He instantly kissed her back, his head lowering to match her height, his hands on her hips to pull her in. Sienna broke the kiss this time, pulling her mask down.

     "Celeste?" Court said, adjusting his mask to see her.

     "I'm sorry, Court. I'm so sorry. I'll never forget you. Bye."

     She turned and ran away, forgetting to bow.

     "What? Celeste, come back!"

     Sienna hurried off before he could say anything else, finding Homa. She crashed into her, gripping her around the waist. "Madam Homa, I can't do this anymore. I can't stay here."

     "Your highness?" Homa said, glancing at Wellington so close by. "Is everything all right?"

     "No," Sienna said; her eyes were growing soggy under her mask. "I'm done. I'm not doing this anymore. I'm done."

     "Come along, princess," she said.

     Sienna quickly made her way out with Homa beside her, taking big strides. Her heart was searing in her chest, asking her "what if," and she kept screaming at it that she wasn't a princess, that masquerading as one for a night did not entitle her to marry a prince. She knew her future. It was a stall in her uncle's tavern, a place she would be again by morning. And she would never know the love of a prince. The most she could expect was the love of a scoundrel at one hundred coins a night, because that was what the future held. A few days off did not change anything.

     She took a deep breath, sniveling and letting out a gasp, her tears running down her face under her mask. Homa glanced back as they moved. The prince and Wellington were standing stunned in the hallway.

     "Sienna?" Homa whispered, leaning in close. "Are you crying?"

     "I just can't, can't do this anymore," she whispered, her tears catching in her throat. She sniveled, slipping her fingers under the mask to wipe her eyes. They burned so much. "I just want to go home and I don't want to see anymore princes or princesses or balls or courtyards or hors d'oeuvres. I want my stall. That's where I belong."

     "Oh, child," she whispered, putting a hand on her back. "All right. I'll see to it you're home soon. The ball is over."

Chapter Nine

The Witch

     By the time Sienna made it back to the princess' bedchamber, she was sobbing uncontrollably. She slumped to the floor as she entered. Betilly hurried over, asking what had happened. Homa came down beside Sienna, lifting the mask to see her red eyes and wet face.

     "Child, whatever is the matter?"

     Sienna could not speak. She just grabbed Homa and held tight as she cried.

     "What has come over her?" Betilly asked.

     "I don't know," Homa said. "She looked as if she was enjoying her time with the prince. But then he spoke to her alone, and she came away like this."

     "Oh, my," Betilly said, looking down at Sienna. "What did the prince say to you, dear? Has he lost interest with the princess? The queen will be furious."

     "Child," Homa said, stroking her hair, "please speak. What happened?"

     "He, he," she sniffled, "asked me–me to marry him."

     "He did?" Homa said.

     "He has?" Betilly said, her voice rising. "Then all has gone well?"

     "He said I'm beautiful," Sienna whimpered. "Me. He liked me, not the princess. But me."

     "Oh, child," Homa said, stroking her back.

     Betilly sighed. "How hard this must have been for you to pretend to fall for him."

     "I wasn't pretending," Sienna whispered, wiping her face, giving way to sobs again. "What would he ever want with a commoner like me? I live in a stall. He would wipe his mouth and spit if he knew he had kissed me and not the princess."

     "He kissed you?" Betilly said.

     "I see," Homa said. "Child, you fell in love with him, didn't you? I'm sorry."

     "I just wanna go home," Sienna whispered, pulling her knees to her chest, putting her face in them.

     "Then home you shall go," Homa said. "I am so sorry I put you through all this. What a terrible burden for such an innocent girl."

     "Let's get you out of this dress, shall we, dear?" Betilly said.

     A knock sounded at the door and the three looked up.

     "Child," Homa whispered, "I am so sorry to ask, but please, the mask, just for a few more moments to dismiss whoever has come."

     She nodded, putting the mask back on. Betilly hurried to Princess Celeste, still in bed, and drew the covers up over her head, turning her into an odd looking lump that occasionally snored. Homa opened the door just a crack.

     "Yes? Madam Vrine? Whatever can I do for you?"

     "Where is the princess?" came Vrine's voice. "Prince Cross has returned without her. The queen is asking for her."

     "Princess Celeste has decided to retire for the night."

     "That is unacceptable."

     "She is quite adamant, Madam."

     "Let me speak to her."

     "One moment."

     Homa closed the door, whispering urgently. "Stay well back, Sienna! Don't come too close. Tell her you're tired. Tell her you're not well."

     Sienna nodded, sniffling, trying to push away her tears. And then Homa opened the door and Vrine stepped in.

     "Princess," Vrine said, giving a quick bow, "the queen requests your presence at the ball."

     "I have retired for the night," Sienna whispered hoarsely. "I'm not well."

     "Homa, Betilly, leave us," Vrine said. "Let me speak to the princess in private."

     "Whatever for, Madam Vrine?" Homa asked.

     "Because I wish it," Vrine said. "Or shall I return with the queen?"

     "We'll be just outside," Homa said, glancing at Sienna. Betilly pretended to fluff a pillow, setting it down over the lump in the bed, bowing her head as she passed Vrine. Vrine kept her angry eyes and thin mouth pointed straight at Sienna.

     "What are you doing, princess?"

     "What?" Sienna said.

     "You are behaving like a child. The queen expects more from you."

     "I'm tired. The prince can see me tomorrow."

     Vrine stepped closer and Sienna immediately stepped back, looking down.

     "Please, I'm tired."

     Vrine did not respond. Sienna glanced up. Vrine had her head tilted, as if she was examining her. She came closer again, and Sienna took a step back, bumping into the table. She stopped there and Vrine came close enough to touch. She felt the old woman's fingers slip through her golden hair.

     "Princess, your hair looks even brighter tonight than usual."

     "Thank you," she whispered, as if it were a compliment.

      And then Vrine slipped her finger under Sienna's chin, lifting her head. Sienna's green eyes were full of fear, so different from Celeste's hazel. Vrine's neck stretched. Sienna squinted through her mask, hoping to hide the color. And then Vrine's eyes blazed, as if she had found a jewel in a riverbed.

     But then, thank goodness, Vrine took her hand back and turned away, crossing the room to the wine on the desk. She poured a glassful. "Well, if you are tired, I will tell the queen you cannot continue."

     "Thank you," Sienna repeated. She was nearly in the clear.

     "How did you enjoy the party?"

     Sienna kept her head down, just in case, and kept her speech to a minimum. "Very well."

     Vrine sipped her wine and then turned around. "I can see you're exhausted. Why don't you take off your mask?"

     "In a moment," she whispered. Uh-oh...

     "You really do look lovely tonight, princess, more so than usual. Your figure is, may I say, at its very best. Why, I wouldn't know it was you if I didn't know better."

     She knew. Sienna could tell. Oh, no. Oh, no. She was dead. She was going to hang. Her stomach twisted into a knot. She lowered her head even farther, hoping it would be enough.

     Vrine stepped closer, her footfalls so heavy on the shiny, shiny floor, right in front of Sienna. Sienna could see Vrine's shoes, dreadfully pointy things. She could even hear her breath, smell it.

     "Where is the princess?" Vrine said softly.

     "What do you—"

     "Lie to me again, girl, and I'll behead you here and now and drag your golden locks to the queen and rip off that mask and show her the face of an imposter."

     "No, please," Sienna whispered desperately, looking up. "I, I'm only a servant. The princess fell asleep, and I went out in her place so she wouldn't offend the queen. Please don't hurt me."

     "Where is the princess?" Vrine demanded.

     "There," she said, pointing. "Just there. Please, you'll see. She's only asleep."

     Vrine strode to the bed, ripping the covers back. Her head snapped to Sienna.

     "Take off that mask!"

     Sienna did, quickly.

     "And the wig! Now!"

     "That's my hair," she said. "It doesn't come off."

     "What?" Vrine came back, her long fingers grasping Sienna's hair. Sienna cried out as Vrine yanked on it, pulling her so hard, Sienna stumbled.

     "Ow, please, ma'am!"

     "Is it dyed?"

     "No, ma'am. It's just my hair."

     "Who are you? Where did you come from?"

     "I'm just a servant. The princess let me come and work in the kitchens."

     "You're the mute!"

     "Yes, ma'am."

     "Not so mute now." Her hand pulled back and then flew forward, slapping Sienna. Sienna cringed, but she did not move to block the blow, simply took it. She was used to Mrs. Crockery slapping her anyway. And then Vrine ripped the royal tiara from her head. "I will have you hung for this outrage."

     Sienna pinched her eyes shut. "I'm sorry."

     "Who helped you? Homa? Betilly?"

     "N–no. I did it all on my own. It was my idea."

     "Oh, you stupid girl." Vrine turned and marched to the door, pulling it open. Homa and Betilly were waiting. "Get in here!"

     They stepped in, seeing Sienna's face uncovered.

     "Madam Vrine," Homa began, "we acted only to spare the princess and the queen embarrassment."

     "It is not for you to decide what would embarrass the queen! This is high treason! You will all hang for this! Get her out of the princess' dress. Now!"

     Homa and Betilly hurried to Sienna, pulling on the ties in the back. Sienna was shaking even as she tried to push it down, stepping out of it, still in her slip.

     "Cut her hair," Vrine said.

     "What?" Homa said.

     "At the ear. Cut it."

     "Why?" Homa asked.

     "Because we cannot have a child with the princess' hair running about! Cut it!"

     "Let her keep it, please," Homa said. "We will send her home this evening, and no one will ever see her hair."

     "The only place she is going is to the gallows, and you with her, and it is there she will not care about one lock on her head. Cut it!"

     Sienna whimpered as they sat her down on the chair. Betilly came with scissors, giving them to Homa.

     "Child, I am so sorry."

     "Cut it!" Vrine roared.

     And then Homa began cutting. Sienna cried, covering her face as the sound of the scissors echoed in her ears. Her hair had not been cut in five years, not since her mother had died. And now, it laid on the floor like trash, forming a pile, the new ends tickling her neck where it hung.

     "Please, Madam Vrine," Homa said as she cut, "do not send her to the gallows. The child is blameless. It was I who sent her out."

     "And you will be punished."

     "But pray, do not punish her. She begged not to be sent."

     "You have taken her down with you, Homa. I'll see you at the end of a rope."

     Then, there was a knock at the door. The guard on the other side shouted, "Open the door! The queen is present!"

     "The queen!" Homa whispered.

     Sienna closed her eyes. She was definitely dead now. That was it, hung by the end of the night, maybe even within the hour. Well, at least she had experienced her first kiss, and Homa had been right. She could not ask for better than to be kissed by a prince, especially Court.

     Vrine came to the door, pulling it open, bowing at the waist. "Your majesty, I am so sorry to have kept you waiting."

     "Where is the princess?" the queen demanded. "I am made out to be a fool in front of my guests, in front of Prince Cross, in front of the entire kingdom!"