A Tale of Two Princesses (6 page)

     "It is not the heat; it is the crown."

     "Indeed, your highness."

     "Tell me of this dragon again."

     "Young master, really now. It is not time to be thinking of such things."

     "It's the perfect time," Court said. "The rumors say this dragon nests in Avelot's Tempest Forest, do they not? If Avelot is to be my future kingdom, should I not deal with the dragon problem?"

     "Wait until the crown is upon your head. There is no point to chop down a tree that is a sapling."

     "Ah, but better to chop the sapling before it grows into a great tree."

     "Truly, your highness, are you so bored that you must run to the first dragon you hear of, overstepping even the most beautiful princess in all the land to reach it?"

     "I know what to expect of a dragon. I do not know what to expect of a princess. Has it killed many people?"

     "The princess?"

     "No! The dragon!"

     "Oh, yes, sir, I believe it did some time ago, but they say it has grown calm in recent years, though no one goes looking for it. Perhaps it is not but a legend now."

     "Legends are facts forgotten."

     "The princess is a legend in the flesh. Her beauty, your highness, focus on this, not the scales of a monster."

     "I do hope she isn't terrible," he said.

     "Who, the dragon?"

     "No! The princess!"

     "Oh, quite right, sir."

     "Really, Wellington, I don't think I can live my whole life with a woman I don't love."

     "What is love, your highness, but blindness? Ah, but kingship, that's ordained by God! Love is nothing to compare it to."

     "Yes, but wouldn't I be happier and the kingdom be greater if it was built on the rock of love, rather than devotion of kingship?"

     "Who is to say you will not grow to love the golden-haired Princess Celeste? She is beautiful, and if her heart is cold, let yours warm it. Trust me, your highness."

     Court sighed. "I suppose I must, Wellington. What choice do I have?"

     "Only the dragon, your highness. And what man would choose a dragon over a princess?"

* * *

     Homa, Betilly, and Kathree were scrubbing Sienna's hair with powder and chalk, working it deep into her scalp.

     "Whatever you do," Homa said, "do not bathe. It'll come right out."

     "Tis a shame to hide such beautiful hair," Betilly said.

     "Wise to hide it," Kathree said. "If her majesty sees a golden-haired maiden not her daughter, this poor lass' head will hang."

     "My head will hang?" Sienna said in horror.

     "She's teasing you, child," Homa said, glancing at Kathree. "It's just best not to upset the queen, but she never comes down to the kitchens, nor to the servant quarters, so as long as you stay put, you'll be perfectly well and safe."

     "With my head unhung?" Sienna added.

     "Precisely."

     "It was a mistake to even bring her here," Kathree said. "Dangerous too, for us!"

     "Quiet, Kathree," Homa said. "It was the princess' wish."

     "And where was her lady-in-waiting to deny such wishes?"

     "Hush now, Kathree," Homa said. "I couldn't very well let the girl be sold to a scoundrel."

     "Yes, this is much better," Kathree said.

     "On with it, you two," Betilly said. "She's all white. Let's get her out."

     They pulled Sienna out of the tub, wrapping her in a robe, even softer than the one at Ms. Geanne's parlor. It smelled nice too. "Mmm, everything here is so clean and so nice. And I slept so well last night. I've never been in a bed so comfortable."

     "Don't get used to it," Kathree said, running a brush through Sienna's long, white hair.

     "But do enjoy it while it lasts," Betilly added, elbowing Kathree. She began braiding Sienna's hair.

     "I will," Sienna said. "I'm so thankful to all of you for the work. And the money will help my uncle so much. I don't think he'll try to sell me again so soon."

     "Pray he never thinks of it again," Homa said, moving to the door. "Stay with Kathree and Betilly, child. I'll check up on you later."

     "Okay, bye, Madam Homa," Sienna said as Homa left. "Isn't Madam Homa the nicest lady ever?"

     "I certainly think so," Betilly said with a smile.

     Kathree hurried over to a cabinet, opening it and taking out a black and white uniform, as well as a bonnet, setting them down next to Betilly. "Dress her in these. Make sure the bonnet hides her well enough from the servers. We don't want loose lips flapping about with stories of a white-haired maiden in the kitchens."

     "Don't boss, Kathree," Betilly said.

     Sienna dressed after her hair was finished. The bonnet was the first thing on, covering her whole head, the mantle passing around her face to obscure her even from the side. The uniform consisted of white leggings with a black skirt, which fell to her knees, and a white blouse with long sleeves, over which fitted a black vest.

     "For goodness' sake, she'll need gloves," Kathree said. "Those hands are a young girl's hands."

     Sienna looked at her fingers. She did not know why they were so different, but they were stuffed into a pair of white gloves all the same. Then she was led through the castle, with orders to keep her head down. It was hard to obey, as her eyes demanded to wander over the walls, the murals, the artwork, the sculptures, the chandeliers, and the furniture. Kathree slapped the back of her head. Sienna was used to the feeling from Mrs. Crockery.

     "Sorry!" Sienna said. "It's all just so amazing."

     "You won't live to enjoy it if you're indiscreet."

     In the kitchen, Kathree and Betilly began preparing vegetables. They set her on the task of lighting the stoves, telling her to bring up firewood.

     "Just down the stairs on the left! Can't miss it! And be quick!"

     "Yes, ma'am!"

     Sienna charged down the stairs, stopping as the chamber darkened. It opened up to a stone room with a door set against the wall. And then the door opened, making her freeze. A man was muttering as he brought in big sacks of flour, dropping them on the ground next to the grain. He looked up.

     "Well, don't just stand there. Help me."

     Sienna nodded, running after him. The doors opened up to a long street that led through the castle—for deliveries, she supposed. A horse and flatbed carriage was waiting, loaded down with sacks. The man grabbed another sack and carried it back in. She went to grab one, immediately laboring under the weight, using all her strength to heave it up onto her shoulder. Her knees were shaking as she took small steps back toward the doors. The sack must have weighed half as much as she did!

     "Look lively then!" the man said as he passed her, collecting another sack.

     She nodded, keeping her head down.

     "Old women running the castle," the man muttered. "Backwards thing, this is. I'm paid for deliveries, not hauling. Oughta ask for more money."

     Sienna made it through the door, dropping the sack on top of the others, leaning against it, heaving. The man reappeared, dropping another sack.

     "Well, aren't you going to take another?"

     "Sienna!" Betilly said, poking her head downstairs. "Where are you off to?"

     "I, I was just helping this nice man carry in flour."

     "That's his job. Do yours. Firewood!"

     "Yes, ma'am!" Sienna said, relieved to be free of the flour.

     "Ey, send me down some help!" the man said. "I'm getting up there in years, can't be carrying all this in! I do deliveries!"

     "Quiet. You're just lazy. Do your job and leave the help alone."

     He muttered as he returned outside for flour. Betilly came down the stairs the rest of the way, making a stack of wood under one arm, shaking her head.

     "Sienna, dear, you'll do just anything if someone tells you to do it, won't you?"

     "Yes, ma'am, of course."

     "Sometimes, Sienna," Betilly said, "it's better to say no. Come on now."

     Betilly carried the firewood upstairs and Sienna hurried up after her with a second stack.

     "What took so long?" Kathree asked.

     "The deliveryman was bothering her," Betilly said, stacking the wood next to the stoves. Sienna added her pile to it and then began filling the stoves, lighting them. Betilly cracked a few eggs into a pan and began cooking.

     "Cut these," Kathree said, placing onions in front of Sienna before stepping away.

     Sienna had never cut vegetables before. Mrs. Crockery didn't trust her with knives. She had cut herself once, and that was the end of it. That had been quite a long time ago though. She picked up the knife, chopping straight down the middle of the onion. She turned it on its side so it was flat and chopped it in half again. Well, now this made it awkward, because there were two flat sides. She turned it upside down on the round end, trying to cut down the middle again, her tongue sticking out of her mouth in concentration. Tears slipped down her eyes, but only from the onion.

     "What are you doing?" Kathree shouted.

     Sienna looked up, wiping her eyes. It made them burn. "Cutting the onion."

     "Dice them, silly girl!"

     "Dice?"

     "Oh, impossible! Squeeze the orange juice!"

     Sienna was set over a pitcher with a strainer above it, as well as a juicer. She cut the fruit in half, as she had done with the onion, and then set it on the pointy end of the juicer, pushing down, twisting. The juice ran through the strainer, filling the pitcher.

     "Here you are, dear," Betilly said, setting down an omelet with bacon on the side, as well as hashed potatoes and toast.

     "Am I supposed to cut these up too?" Sienna asked in confusion.

     "Why, no, dear, that's your breakfast. You didn't think we were going to starve you this week, did you?"

     "This is all for me?" she asked in amazement, looking down. There had to be three or four eggs, with vegetables mixed into them, greens and reds and yellows.

     "Enjoy, dear," Betilly said. "Have a glass of orange juice with it too. Good food is good fuel."

     Sienna had to admit, as she sat at the counter eating her eggs and bacon and potatoes and toast and orange juice, even Mrs. Crockery never cooked this well. It nearly knocked her off her feet when she tasted it.

     "Wow! You're such a good cook, Madam Betilly!"

     "I'd better be," she said. "I'm cooking for royalty."

     "Oh, my goodness. It's delicious! Thank you!"

     Betilly laughed. "You're such a sweet girl."

     "I've never eaten so much before!" Sienna said as she finished her breakfast. It was actually making her tummy ache, but she was not going to let anything go to waste. She licked her plate clean, which dropped Kathree's jaw.

     Just then, Homa came in. "Her highness is awake."

     "Early today," Betilly said.

     "It's all this talk of the prince," Homa said. "She can't sleep; she's so anxious. Prepare her breakfast. Hurry now."

     Betilly went to work, cooking carefully, watching the heat on the stove, seasoning everything to perfection, taste testing before putting it on a plate, covering it with a dome. Added to it was a muffin, as well as a chocolate tart. A glass of orange juice and a rose finished the tray.

     "Sienna," Homa said, "carry the tray and follow me."

     "Yes, ma'am!"

     "What?" Kathree said. "You're taking her through the castle? Have you lost your mind?"

     "The princess asked to see how she was getting on. It will be fine. Child, keep your head down as you walk."

     "Yes, ma'am."

     Sienna took up the tray, following Homa out of the kitchens and through the castle. She once again disobeyed the order to keep her head down as so many things caught her eye. The arched windows all gave a magnificent view of the sun rising over the big, blue ocean. She was so caught up she began to slow her pace.

     "Sienna, keep up," Homa said.

     "Sorry, ma'am!"

     She hurried to follow. There were so many guards too, all of them looking like living statues, each with spears eight feet tall, the eyes under their helmets piercing her. She returned her eyes to the glistening floor.

     "You're so lucky to live and work here, ma'am," Sienna said, "if you don't mind me saying so."

     "I suppose I am, yes."

     "What does a lady-in-waiting do, anyway?"

     "Whatever her mistress tells her."

     "Anything?"

     "Yes. If my mistress ordered me to fall on a sword, I would obey."

     "Oh," Sienna whispered. "But why would she order you to do that?"

     Homa chuckled, putting her hand on Sienna's back. "I only meant to express my devotion. Princess Celeste is a wonderful mistress."

     "Who's the queen's lady-in-waiting?"

     "Madam Vrine."

     "Will I meet her?"

     "Pray you never lay eyes on her, and should you be so unfortunate, do not speak to her."

     "Why?"

     Homa glanced at her. "She is a witch, Sienna, in both practice and personality. Avoid her."

     Sienna gulped. "Yes, ma'am."

     As they walked, Sienna became lost to their direction. The castle was so large with so many corridors and so many doors and so many stairs. It may have been a beautiful place to visit, but it was such an impractical house! She couldn't imagine living here forever, running all the way down to the kitchens to sneak a snack while everyone was sleeping. But maybe princesses never bothered about sneaking snacks.

     Homa rapped on a pair of golden doors. Sienna was pretty sure the doors were just wood though, painted gold.

     "Come," Celeste replied from inside.

     Homa opened the door. It looked very heavy. It even took two hands to do the job. She held it so Sienna could pass through with the tray. Then Homa immediately took it from Sienna's hands, setting it on the table near the door. She bowed to one knee. Sienna caught on quickly, dropping to her knees, bowing her head.