Princess without a Palace: A King Thrushbeard Fairy Tale (6 page)

And that was depressing.

An unknown amount of time passed before
a knock at the door startled her from the depths of her sorrow.

“Liesel?” Adelaide called softly as she
entered the room. “Why is it so dark in here? Would you like me to fetch you a
candle?”

Startled, Liesel looked around at the
dimming room. So consumed had she been in her thoughts, she had not realized
when the cloak of night had begun to fall.

“That’s not necessary. I don’t need
light to think.”

“But you’ll need light to pack.”

“Pack what? I’m forbidden from taking
anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s in mother’s message. You can read
it … where did I put it?” Liesel scanned the room. “Oh, over there. On the
bed.”

Adelaide retrieved the wad of paper and
smoothed it against her skirt. She held it up by the window to try to read its
contents. “You need light to read too,” she hinted after a moment.

Liesel lit a candle and set it on a
nearby table.

Adelaide thanked her before beginning to
read the message softly to herself:

“Your father and the minstrel have
reached an agreement. As the minstrel is without the means to marry at present,
it has been agreed upon that the minstrel will take you to live with his sister
while he works to save for a wife. You will leave tomorrow at dawn. Your father
says that since you are now betrothed to a peasant, you are only permitted to
take what is suitable for such a position. Namely, the dress you wore to the
banquet.”

Adelaide’s eyes trailed up from the
message in shock.

Liesel curled up in her window seat and
looked out to hide her pain. To hear the words read aloud had cut her deeply
yet again.

“I can’t believe Mother and Father are
casting me off in such a casual manner. They are dismissing me more like they
would a truant servant than a daughter. Mother didn’t even have the courage to
tell me herself. Who casts off a daughter with a scribbled piece of parchment?”

Adelaide rushed over to take her
sister’s hand.

“Mother has been beside herself all
afternoon. She locked herself in her room and has refused to see anyone. I
could hear her sobbing from the hall. She’s devastated by all of this.”

“She’s devastated? She’s not the one who
has to marry the man. I would pity her if it wasn’t in her power to reverse
this decree.”

“There must be some hope. At least
Mother and Father aren’t making you marry him right away.”

“I would refuse.”

“Could you?”

Liesel faced her sister with defiance.
“I will go with him tomorrow, but I will never marry him. I will eventually
find some other place to go.”

“Perhaps you’ll never have to leave with
him. Look below. Is that him by the wagon? Is he sneaking away?”

Liesel’s hopes soared momentarily before
crashing back down when she noticed the line of guards standing nearby.

“He is only fetching something from his
wagon. The guards will never let him escape.”

Adelaide nodded, acknowledging that
Liesel was right. Her lips trembled as she then asked, “How can I bear to lose
you, Liesel?”

“How can I bear to leave?” Liesel
answered in a whisper, fearing her voice would crack if she spoke any louder.

Adelaide threw her arms around her
sister and hugged her tightly. 

Liesel couldn’t help the tears that
began to flow. Her sister’s embrace had completely disarmed her.

“Oh, Adelaide,” Liesel mourned. “If only
I hadn’t been so foolish.”

“How were you to know what would
happen?”

“I should have resisted the impulse,”
Liesel sobbed. “I shouldn’t have underestimated father’s temper. I, of anyone,
should have known better. Instead, I wore a horrid, ridiculous dress … and now …
now that dress is all I have left.”

Before slips of sunlight had begun to
tease the eastern horizon, Liesel had already dressed in the appointed dress
and had squared her shoulders against her fate. After tucking a blanket around
her still slumbering sister, she sat for a while at her side.

She rubbed her swollen, tired eyes, but
resisted the urge to cry as she realized that morning was finally upon her.
Sadness had disrupted her sleep, but she was determined that courage would rule
the day. She was a princess, after all.

Gretchen soon arrived with her breakfast
tray, but Liesel waved it aside.

“You have a long day ahead of you,
Princess. You’ll need your strength.”

“But I have no appetite.”

“But you have so far to travel … please
try.”

Liesel reluctantly picked up a piece of
bread, but only nibbled off a small bite.

“Where is he taking me, Gretchen?” the
princess suddenly blurted. She couldn’t bear not knowing any longer.

Gretchen gave her a kind smile and
wrapped an arm around the princess’s shoulders. “The minstrel’s sister just
lives in Brenhausen. You’ll only be a long day’s walk away.”

“Brenhausen?” Liesel whispered. “The
Thrushbeard King’s land?”

“Why, Liesel, you’ve lost all your
color. What is wrong? I thought you’d be relieved to be so close.”

Liesel closed her eyes. How could she
explain the deep mortification of being a subject in a spurned suitor’s land?

When it was clear Liesel had no
intention of answering, Gretchen didn’t press her but instead reached for a
nearby brush.

“Would you please allow me the honor of
brushing your beautiful hair one last time, milady? It would sure bring relief
to your old maid’s aching heart.”

“Of course, Gretchen. I’d be most
grateful.”

Liesel savored every comforting
sensation as Gretchen brushed her long, light brown locks. Oh, how she would
miss this!

“I see Adelaide has stayed by your side
through the night,” the maid noted. “Have you said your goodbyes to your
brother?”

Liesel’s throat felt too thick to answer
so she just nodded. She had slipped away during the night and had held the
sweet baby for hours.

Trumpets blasted and Gretchen
reluctantly set down the brush.

“Are you ready, Princess?”

Liesel stood and forced a smile. “I
don’t think that matters.”

“Come, Princess. I’ll escort you to your
parents.”

“Are you afraid I’ll run away?” Liesel
teased.

Gretchen smiled. “No, I just can’t stand
to part with you yet. You’ve been mine since you were a baby, you know.”

Liesel hugged her maid tightly before
returning to Adelaide one last time. She kissed her sister’s brow and quietly
said goodbye.

After taking her maid’s arm, Liesel
almost made it from the room before she abruptly turned on her heels.

“What are you doing, milady?” the maid
questioned.

“I almost forgot my shoes. You wouldn’t
have me walk all the way to Brenhausen barefoot, would you?”

“The shoes that match your dress should
be in your pine box, Princess,” Gretchen supplied helpfully.

“Those aren’t the shoes I’m looking
for,” Liesel answered. Gretchen groaned, but Liesel ignored her.

At last, she found the pair she was
seeking and slipped them onto her feet. They were a rich, royal purple and had
solid silver buckles. She then retrieved the old, brown peasant shoes and
placed them next to Adelaide. Her sister would know what to do with them when
she finally awoke so they wouldn’t be discovered by their parents.

“I’m ready now, Gretchen.”

“I see. Are you sure you’re willing to
risk your father’s wrath one last time?”

“I think you’d be secretly disappointed
if I wasn’t,” Liesel answered with a smirk.

Gretchen shook her head, but Liesel
could tell by her face that her maid knew she was right.

The king and queen were waiting for
their daughter in the corridor by the castle’s great hall below. When Liesel
emerged from the winding staircase, she froze at the sight of them, but
Gretchen prodded her forward.

Liesel proceeded on, but only took slow,
small steps, ever careful to keep her shoes hidden beneath her thick, coarse
skirt.

The slender queen looked more fragile
than normal this morning. Almost like she would shatter if pressed. But when
she opened her shaking arms to her daughter, Liesel rushed forward without
hesitation into the familiar embrace.

The queen clutched her daughter close to
her heart and whispered, “Oh my precious daughter, please forgive me.”

Liesel didn’t know what to say so she
didn’t answer anything at all.

After the queen finally released her,
Liesel turned to face her father.

With her jaw firmly set and her chin
raised high, she graced him with a barely discernible curtsy.

He pretended not to notice the slight.

“You are late. The sun has risen. You
mustn’t keep your newly-betrothed waiting,” the king greeted instead.

“But of course. I’m looking forward,
myself, to this new, grand adventure,” Liesel answered in a bold-faced lie.

“An adventure it will be. Of that I have
no doubt.”

Liesel raised an eyebrow, but held her
tongue. Against her father’s antagonizing presence, grief was swiftly
transforming into resolve.

She hugged Gretchen one last time and
then nodded a silent farewell to her parents. Then without another word, she
turned to continue on her way to meet the minstrel outside. It was time to
confront her future.

As the king watched his eldest child
march away, he felt an unsettling uncertainty sweep through him. Perhaps he had
been too brash. Perhaps his temper had prevented him from responding
reasonably. Perhaps …

His doubts were interrupted when Liesel
suddenly spun on her heels to face him one last time.

“You may think that with my banishment,
you have won yet another one of your many battles. But I can assure you, this
battle in not yet finished. I will find some way to prevail.”