Princess without a Palace: A King Thrushbeard Fairy Tale (18 page)

“It’s perfect,” Liesel replied,
clutching it to her bosom. “Thank you, Roderick. But speaking of your work,
shouldn’t you be harvesting right now?”

“I had to bring a load of vegetables to
the market. As I was returning through the marketplace, I passed by Albert
walking toward the castle, and I offered to give him a ride. Since I’m here, I had
to see you.”

Liesel felt her cheeks grow warm so she
quickly turned away. “Well, now that you’ve seen me, we probably better both
return to our work.”

“In a moment,” he said, pulling her back
by her elbow. “First, I want to know what you plan to paint on that,” he said,
nodding to the canvas in her arms.

“I don’t know,” she answered, shrugging
her shoulders.

“Come, surely something sprang to your
mind when you saw it.”

“I have a few ideas, but with only one
canvas I’ll need some time to decide.”

“And you won’t tell me?”

Liesel smiled. “You can see for yourself
when it’s done.”

She gave him one more smile before she
started again to leave to return to the kitchen. However, she suddenly stopped
in the doorway when the first few notes of a new melody began to drift down
from the open windows up above. Turning toward the ballroom with a grimace, she
listened as the familiar song progressed, unable to move as if she had suddenly
been cast under a spell.

“Liesel, what is it?” Roderick asked,
stepping closer to her.

She tried to force a reassuring smile,
but it was laced with more sorrow than joy. “They’re playing ‘The Waltz of the
Purple Roses,’” she answered in a quiet voice. “It’s my mother’s favorite song.
I didn’t know it was played in other kingdoms.”

She continued to stand there, completely
frozen in place, mesmerized by the haunting melody, until Roderick reached for
the canvas hanging in her hand against her side. She resisted his tugs and
clutched it firmly against her side.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Here, let me take this,” he said as he successfully
pulled the canvas from her grip and then set it against a nearby wall.

“Roderick?” she questioned as she
watched him turn back to her with a determined look. When he came to a stop
just in front of her, he bowed slightly and then offered her his hand.

“Would you do me the honor?” he asked
with a hint of a smile.

She shook her head in a definitive
fashion. “No, no, I can’t. I think I really should be returning …”

But Roderick didn’t heed her protests.
Instead, he grasped one of her hands and pulled her further into the stables,
away from the open doors. “Don’t you miss dancing?”

“Yes …” she admitted, trying to look
anywhere but at his intense gaze. “But right now?” she protested.

“Don’t you think I’m capable?”

She finally dared to look up at him
again, but she didn’t answer. She didn’t want to offend him. Furthermore, how
could she tell him that that wasn’t the only reason she was hesitant?

But her reluctance didn’t seem to make
his determination wane at all. Instead, he simply took both of her hands and
pulled her toward him. “I’m a minstrel, Liesel,” he reminded her. “I am no
stranger to royal courts.”

She looked around the empty stables,
desperately searching for an escape. “But what if someone sees?”

He pulled her closer and simply replied,
“Let them.”

Suddenly breathless, she couldn’t muster
the will to escape anymore. Instead, she settled into his strong arms as he
began to lead her through the familiar steps of the song.

As the melody progressed, she was
astonished by the skill with which he led her through all of the various
patterns of steps. And while her heart seemed to keep double time with the song
and she struggled to remember each of the sequences, Roderick appeared
perfectly composed and never missed a step.

Alarms rang in her ears, and she
frantically tried to recall how she had ever let this happen. How had their
casual conversation so quickly evolved into a dance?

He looked down at her with such an
unrelenting stare, she couldn’t look away. Her eyes searched his, and panic
rose within her as she realized she could no longer pretend otherwise: her
heart was undoubtedly in trouble.

When the last notes of the song finally
faded into silence, she quickly attempted to pull away, but Roderick refused to
release her.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve been away too long. I have to
return. Hilda needs me,” she pleaded.

A new song began to play and Roderick
entreated, “Just one more dance.”

But Liesel firmly shook her head. “No,
Roderick. Please, I can’t.”

She tugged on her hands again, and this
time Roderick released her.

She opened her mouth, wanting to offer
some sort of explanation, but she quickly closed it again. With the way she was
feeling, she didn’t trust herself not to say anything she might soon regret. 

“Liesel-”

“I have to go, Roderick,” she said,
cutting his words short. She looked at him regretfully, and then quickly fled
toward the exit, only slowing to retrieve her small canvas and what was left of
the milk beside the door. She clutched them in her trembling hands and was
almost completely away, when she dared to glance back one more time.

Immediately, she wished she hadn’t.

Roderick hadn't moved at all, but was
still standing exactly where she had left him, studying her with an unnerving
expression.

She desperately tried to erase the
memory of that look from her mind as she scrambled up the path toward the
kitchen, but trying to do so only seemed to burn his image into her mind even
more.

When she arrived at the kitchen, she
didn’t immediately enter through the door, but instead sank down to rest on the
steps for a moment so she could collect herself before facing Hilda and Albert
again. She clutched the canvas in her hand against her chest, but
unfortunately, it did little to calm her racing heart.

Dancing had been such a mistake!

Closing her eyes, she let out a
barely-audible whimper as she leaned over to rest her forehead against her
knees in despair.

She almost wished she hadn’t kept her
promise to Albert to stay. If only she had been able to leave with Prince
Cornelius, she could have avoided this altogether. She could have avoided this
pounding ache in her heart.

But thinking on such wishes was useless.

She had stayed and she still had a
little less than a week left.

She just hoped her heart would be able
to endure it.

T
he
next day, Liesel awoke with a clear resolution branded in her mind:  she
couldn’t spend time alone with Roderick anymore.

It was the best way she could think of
to protect her heart and survive the remainder of her time in Brenhausen until
Prince Cornelius returned for her.

She would just have to do her best to
avoid him.

It seemed like a simple enough solution,
but she soon realized it was not so easily attained.

At least without pushing herself to the
point of utter exhaustion.

She began her day uncharacteristically
early at the castle, arriving even before Hilda, and she continued to work late
until the sky was dark again and the stars had begun to emerge.

When she finally left the castle’s
kitchen to return home, Hilda praised her for her dedication, and Liesel didn’t
correct her.

She was fine if Hilda thought she was
only eager to help make the princess’s ball as perfectly wonderful as possible.
It was a much simpler reason than the truth.

When Liesel arrived home to her pile of
straw in Maria’s stables, she collapsed with a groan. She was exhausted and she
dreaded having to repeat the same schedule the next day. But then she reminded
herself this routine wouldn’t last forever. She would be free in just a few
days. She just needed to survive until then.

Tucking her feet beneath her skirt, she
pulled out her jar and nibbled on a piece of ham, savoring its incredible
flavor. Hilda might be a strict mistress, she noted, but at least she was a fabulous
cook.

A small pile of straw stirred beside
her, and Liesel poked it with one of the sticks she always kept beside her bed.
Out ran a little mouse that stopped just a couple feet away from her, and then
stared back at her with large, black eyes. Liesel stared back at the mouse for
several seconds before she finally tore off a small chunk of her ham and threw
it toward the little creature. The tiny rodent quickly retrieved it and then
disappeared behind a nearby wooden beam.

Liesel realized the lonely, little mouse
was most likely hungry too. She regretted never recognizing that before.

When she had just finished her supper,
she heard the back door of Maria’s hut creak open. Springing to her feet, she
quickly extinguished her candle across the room and then dove back into her
straw bed. She nestled her face into her blankets and then held her breath as
she listened as someone entered the barn.

“Liesel?” Roderick called out quietly.
“Liesel?”

She didn’t answer, but instead focused
on trying to regulate her breathing to sound as if she were asleep. She prayed
he would leave, but her prayers were in vain. Her heart pounded as she listened
to him approach and then kneel beside her.

“Liesel?” he whispered one more time,
but she didn’t move.

When he was still at her side several
seconds later, she wondered if he was about to confront her about her poor
performing skills, but then she only felt him pick up one of the blankets that
was lying beside her. Gently, he then tucked the blanket about her shoulders before
he stood again and quietly retreated from the barn.

She let out a sigh when the door finally
closed, and pressed her blankets against her face. Inside, she could feel her
resolution crumbling and she didn’t know what to do about it.

She curled into her makeshift bed and
squeezed her eyes shut to try to contain the tears that threatened to fall.

Why did he have to be so perfect?

“Liesel, why are you scrubbing the
floors in here?” Hilda questioned from the doorway the next day.

Glancing up, Liesel dragged her wrist
across her forehead to sweep her unruly hair from her face, and then shrugged.
“I finished my chores early, and couldn’t see anything else that needed to be
done.”

“Why don’t you just go home? You’ve been
keeping such long hours these last couple days, I’m sure you need some rest by
now.”

Liesel shook her head. “No, no, I
promised Albert I’d help you, and I want to do everything I can to keep that
promise.”

Hilda surveyed the room with her hands
on her hips. “But we’re not planning on eating off of the floor. You don’t need
to clean it. Especially this floor. Before you arrived, this room was just used
as a pantry and for storage. No one cares what it looks like.”

“My productivity increases in clean
spaces,” Liesel contended. “I just have a little more to scrub. But if you need
me to do something else for you, I can stop.”

“I can’t think of anything else. You’ve
already done the chores I had appointed for you for the next two days. In all
my years, I’ve never seen such dedication.”

Liesel scrubbed the floor with renewed
vigor. “I’m sure your princess deserves nothing less. I just want to do my part
to make her celebration perfect.”

“She
is
a gem,” Hilda replied
warmly.

“What exactly is the princess
celebrating?” Liesel asked, pausing to look up at the old woman again.

“Her return. The princess has been away
for quite a while, but she is finally coming home. We couldn’t be more
thrilled. She is lovely. Simply lovely. You’ll see for yourself at the ball.”

“I can hardly wait.”

The old woman moved to return to the
kitchen, but Liesel stopped her with one more question.

“Where has the princess been?”

“I’m not exactly sure. I just know she
is attending to a few matters of state for her father.”

“I see.”

“Any more questions?”

Liesel shook her head. “No, not yet, at
least.”

Hilda nodded. “Then I’ll return to
overseeing the kitchen. I’ll have a servant bring you a basket of vegetables to
peel in just a short while.”

“Thank you. I appreciate the work.”

Hilda paused, looking like she wanted to
say something more, but then decided against it. After the old woman turned
away, Liesel listened to her retreating steps and then let out a sigh, relieved
to be alone again.

She leaned against the leg of a table
and looked down at her sore, tired hands. Swollen from water and calloused from
work, she hardly recognized them anymore. How they had changed in the last
three weeks since the day she had injured them while spinning! She couldn’t
honestly say she didn’t miss the smooth, delicate hands she had lost, but each
callous, each rough spot was a trophy of sorts to her now. She prided herself
in the fact that she had earned every one of them from hard work. And now when
she looked at them, she felt like she was truly capable of doing anything.

A knock on the door interrupted her
thoughts, and she turned, expecting to see a servant with the vegetables Hilda had
promised. But it was only a little maid.

“Excuse me, miss,” the young scullery
maid greeted from the doorway. “A message was just delivered at the rear door for
you.”

Liesel dried her hands against her apron
and then stood to accept it. Her heart began to race when she recognized Prince
Cornelius’s familiar wax seal stamped across the back. She had waited over a
week to hear back from him, and now she could hardly wait to see what was
inside.

The young maid lingered, testing
Liesel’s self-control as she wanted nothing more than to rip it right open and
scour the contents without delay. But as she had no desire to begin any rumors,
she resolved to wait until she had complete privacy again.

“Thank you,” Liesel said with a quick
smile, looking to the door, hinting that the young maid should leave. The young
girl followed her gaze and after a brief pause, reluctantly left to return to
her previous work in the kitchen, exiting the door with a barely discernible
sigh.

Liesel walked to the far side of the
room, leaned back against the cold stone wall, and read the letter by the light
of the window.

Dearest
Princess,

I can’t properly relay the keen
disappointment I felt when I read your message and learned you had decided to
stay. But rest assured I will do as you asked and return for you. As providence
would have it, I have actually been invited to attend a ball at King Carl’s
castle at the appointed time you wish to leave. Perhaps I might be fortunate
enough to persuade you to stay a little longer and attend as my guest? I shall
try to convince you to do so, but as always, I will be happy to do whatever you
inevitably wish for me to do.

Forever
Your Devoted,

Prince
Cornelius.

Liesel cringed as she reread the part
about the ball. She hoped he was in earnest in his pronouncement that he would
truly heed her wishes, because she had absolutely no desire at all to attend.
She had only promised to help Hilda prepare for the grand event and as soon as
it started, she was determined to be on her way. 

She folded the letter and tucked it away
in her apron pocket next to her collection of food scraps. Retrieving a piece
of bread, she nibbled on it as she walked back to her wash water and scrub brush
lying on the floor. After plopping the remainder of the roll in her mouth, she
knelt back down, and had just commenced scrubbing again, when someone tapped on
the window.

She looked up expecting to see that
someone had only bumped into the glass as they were passing by, but a man
wearing a large-brimmed hat was standing there looking in.

She squinted, trying to see his features
better through the wavy glass, but she couldn’t tell who it was hiding under
such a large hat until he smiled. Instantly, she recognized him then.
Roderick’s smile was unforgettable.

He waved for her to join him outside,
but she shook her head no. He tried again, but she only shook her head more
firmly.

His smile broadened, and Liesel would
have been irked, but as she surmised he was probably walking toward the kitchen
door, Liesel turned back to her scrubbing with a smirk. Hilda would surely send
him on his way without delay since there was undoubtedly a great deal left to
do with the ball only being four days away.

However, it seemed like only seconds had
passed before Hilda leaned into the room and announced, “It’s time for you to
go home, Liesel.”

“I beg your pardon!”

“Storm clouds are threatening outside
and I don’t want you to get caught in the rain and fall ill.”

How could she explain to the old woman
that the storm clouds were the least of her worries outside?

She couldn’t, so she argued instead,
“But what about the vegetables you wanted me to peel?”

“The other servants can manage it.”

“But, but …” Liesel stammered, frantic
to escape her predicament.

“I won’t hear any arguments. You have a
long way to travel, and your betrothed is here waiting for you.”

“You can tell him I have a few more
things I want to do still, so I’ll make my way back to the hut on my own when I
am done.”

“I won’t hear of such a thing. He looks
like he came a long way to come to collect you, so away you’ll go, and you’ll
go now.”

Liesel scowled, but Hilda only pointed
out the door. The stubborn woman couldn’t be budged.

“Hilda, to be blunt, I would rather stay
here.”

“And forgo a walk with your betrothed? I
don’t believe it. Such a notion is highly irregular. Don’t let your promise to
my Albert keep you here.”

“But truly, I would rather help you.”

“Nonsense. There’s nothing more for you
to do here. It looks like you’re even about done with the floor. Now, out with
you. Your departure will give me some more time to gather a suitable list of
chores for you to do tomorrow.”

Liesel groaned. She was trapped.

“Here, let me help you up,” Hilda said,
stepping forward and offering Liesel her arm.

Liesel was surprised by the elderly
woman’s strength as she yanked Liesel to her feet. Hilda then maintained her
strong grip on Liesel’s arm and walked with her through the kitchen. She must
have feared she would bolt for she didn’t release her until they had safely exited
the rear door and stepped outside.