Princess without a Palace: A King Thrushbeard Fairy Tale (8 page)

The sky had been dark for quite some time
when the minstrel pulled his horse to a final halt.

“This is it,” he announced, waving to an
obscure structure before them.

“This?” she questioned. She didn’t quite
believe it. It was just so … so small. The tiny hut looked like it could
contain no more than two rooms.

“Surely this is a jest.”

“I’m a minstrel, not a jester,” the
minstrel countered. “Come in. There are lights inside. My sister must be waiting
up for us.”

“You told her about me already?”

“I thought it would be prudent to warn
her. Your father agreed to send a messenger ahead.”

He helped her from the cart and then
walked her to the door. Liesel had to duck to be able to enter through its
small frame.

Once through, she found herself
immediately before a tall young woman who appeared to be about her same age.
The young woman had a similar thin build, but her features were darker and more
striking than Liesel’s. Her black hair was draped over her shoulder in a long
braid, and her deep, brown eyes wasted no time before they swept over Liesel,
looking her over from head to toe.

Liesel instinctively straightened her
spine to try to stand a little taller against the young woman’s measuring gaze.

“Maria!” the minstrel exclaimed warmly
as he entered the hut. He dropped his satchel to the ground to greet his sister
with a hug.

As soon as he released her, the sister
looked back to assess Liesel once more.

“I didn’t believe your letter.”

The minstrel waved a hand toward Liesel.
“Now you can see that it is true. Maria, allow me to introduce you to Princess
Liesel.”

“Welcome,
Liesel
,” Maria greeted,
pointedly omitting the title.

“Maria,” her brother warned.

Maria was quick to defend herself. “She
is no princess of mine. I’m not going to bow down to her when I’m the one who
is sharing my home.”

The minstrel didn’t answer his sister,
but instead turned back to Liesel. “I suppose it wouldn’t be right to keep the
title in your new position here. It would probably turn you into the village
spectacle. I’m afraid it’s probably best to be just Liesel from now on.”

Liesel wanted to protest, but refrained.
If only it weren’t true
, Liesel mourned silently. She felt surprised by
how vulnerable she suddenly felt without the title.

“What is the plan from here?” Liesel
asked in an attempt to turn the attention away from her reduced state.

“I’ve been wondering that as well,”
Maria mused.

“I’m going to take a break from my work
as a minstrel and try to find work at neighboring farms for a while. Maria, do
you have a jar about this size?” He modeled the dimensions for her with his
hands.

She walked to the other side of the room
to retrieve a clay jar from a cupboard. “Like this?”

“That should work,” he confirmed as she
handed it to him. He blew the dust out of the jar, and then walked over to
place it on the mantle over the small fireplace.

Pointing to it, he declared to Liesel,
“When we have saved enough money to fill this, we should have enough to marry.”

“And what am I to do until then? Sit
around and wait?” Liesel questioned.

The corner of the minstrel’s mouth
turned up in obvious amusement. “No, no. That would never do at all. From now
on, you must work to earn your keep as well.”

“Brother, this plan is absurd,” Maria
cut in.

“Yes, it is,” Liesel agreed. “What do
you plan for me to do? Help in the house here? I have no experience with such
work.”

“And I do not need any help here,” Maria
added. “I have managed perfectly fine on my own until now.”

“Settle yourself, Maria. Helping here
wouldn’t gain us anything. Liesel must find something to do that lets her
contribute to our savings.”

“But I haven’t the least idea where to
find such work,” Liesel argued.

“Do not fret. I’m sure I’ll be able to
find something for you. But not until the morning,” he added with a yawn. “It
is late and we should all retire after such a long day. Maria, would you mind
lending me a blanket or two? I think I’ll sleep out back in the stables with
our horses. Do you have a place for Liesel yet?”

Maria didn’t have a chance to answer as
Liesel suddenly interrupted her with a piercing shriek.

“Good heavens, what is the matter?” the
minstrel demanded, holding a hand out to assist Liesel down from her new perch
on a nearby chair. “Come down from there.”

“That … that mouse ran over my feet,”
she explained with a trembling finger pointed at a mouse escaping under some
straw in the corner.

“Is that all?” Maria asked impatiently.

“Maria,” the minstrel warned again
before reminding his sister, “You didn’t answer. Do you have a place for Liesel
arranged yet?”

“I brought some straw in to make a bed
for her … over there,” Maria answered with a wicked gleam as she pointed to the
corner where the mouse had just run.

Panic seized Liesel and she grasped the
minstrel’s arm.

“You cannot leave me here,” she pleaded.
“Please don’t make me stay here.”

He peeled her fingers from his arm, and
squeezed them reassuringly. “Believe it or not, the stables are much worse. You
don’t want to trade with me. There are mice in here, but there are rats out
there.”

Liesel shuddered.

“You will be fine. That mouse—or any
mouse for that matter—won’t hurt you.”

“But surely, isn’t there somewhere else
I can go?”

The minstrel rubbed his tired brow as he
let out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry this is hardly a castle, Liesel, but for now it
is your home.”

He smiled reassuringly and then added,
“And you won’t be alone. Maria won’t let any harm come to you.”

Liesel’s eyes turned back to the sister who
was still glaring at her and doubted the truth of his words. She felt no more
welcome there in the hut than the little mouse hiding in the corner.

But at least he can hide
,
Liesel thought enviously.

She glanced over at the straw uneasily
and tried to gather the courage to approach it. When some of the straw began to
stir she had to bite her lip to stifle the sound that wished to escape.

She closed her eyes and took a steadying
breath.

It was going to be a loooooong night.

W
hen
Roderick entered the hut the next morning, he was alarmed by Liesel’s appearance.
Her face was swollen, her eyes were puffy, and her shoulders were slumped in
defeat as she quietly folded her blankets in the corner.

“Maria, didn’t Liesel sleep at all?”
Roderick pulled his sister aside to ask.

“Neither of us did,” Maria replied
irritably. “She kept us both awake. I swear there was not a squeak or sound
that did not startle her and cause her to light her candle and inspect
everything around her. Brother, I cannot afford the way she burns through
candles.”

“I’ll replace what she uses,” he
assured.

“You shouldn’t have to,” Maria
contested. She then folded her arms and demanded, “Look at me, Roderick.”

He dragged his gaze from Liesel to fully
face his sister.

“Are you really intent on following
through with this plan? I think she’s hopeless.”

He shrugged off her concern. “I prefer
to think of it as a great challenge.”

“It shouldn’t have to be
your
challenge.”

“I made a promise to her father, Maria.
I cannot break it now.”

“I’m sure
he
would understand if
you had to return her.”

Roderick sighed. “Please have patience,
Maria. The poor girl has lost everything. She needs our help now.”

“So help her!” Maria urged. “But please
don’t marry her.”

“Maria,” Roderick answered with
dwindling patience. “I thought I had explained that-”

“I know, I know. Just remember through
all of this that you deserve better.”

“Maria-”

“I’m finished,” she replied, her hands
raised in defeat. “But I just had to say it.”

Maria then released a sigh of resignation
and asked, “So what have you planned for her to do?”

“Come,” Roderick invited. “You can see.
I was just about to show her.”

Walking over to the corner, he called
out cheerfully, “Good morning, Liesel.”

“Good morning,” the tired princess
mechanically answered.

“Are you ready to start the day?”

She turned to the window and protested,
“The sun has barely risen …”

“Days start early here. We can’t afford
to waste any sunlight.”

Liesel’s shoulders slumped even further.

“Come outside,” he instructed “I’ve
found some work for you to do.”

“Already?”

“A neighbor has been kind enough to lend
me some supplies. Now, come.”

She followed him to a wooden chair he
had arranged beneath an overhang on the side of the barn. He waved for Liesel
to take a seat, and then he disappeared into the stables. After a brief moment,
he emerged with a spinning wheel and a basket of wool draped over his arm.

After setting it before her, he
demonstrated how the contraption worked. “All you have to do, is take the wool
in your hands like this …”

He showed her how to lightly thread the
wispy wool through her fingers.

“And then just pull it gently, and allow
it to feed onto the spool at an even pace as you spin the wheel.”

His hands guided hers as he demonstrated
how the wool should flow. Liesel’s large eyes looked up at him nervously, and
he could tell she was overwhelmed.

“You’ll be fine,” he encouraged. “It
really is simple after a little practice.”

“I think you’re wasting your time,
brother,” Maria mumbled.

Roderick noticed the muscles along
Liesel’s jaw tighten. She then straightened her shoulders, shook him away, and
reached for more wool. “Thank you for your lesson. But if you don’t mind giving
me a little privacy, I have some spinning to do.”

He smiled at her fighting spirit.

Maria spun on her heels and marched
away.

Roderick lingered at Liesel’s side. He
was hesitant to abandon her so soon.

Eventually, she glanced up at him with
an arched eyebrow.

“Is there anything else?”

He smiled again. “No, not at all. I can
see you’ll be just fine. I’ll leave you to your work.”

After a few hours had passed, Roderick
returned from a nearby farm to feed Maria’s horses as a pretense to check on
Liesel’s progress.

As he shoveled fresh hay into the
horses’ stalls, he craned his neck around the corner to subtly inspect her
work.

He cringed.

It was terrible.

Balls of completed yarn were stacked in
a basket next to her chair, but the poor yarn was undoubtedly worthless. He
couldn’t think of anything they could be sold for, except perhaps as kindling.

And even then, it was so misshapen, so
irregular, it might even take quite a bit of persuasion to convince someone to
buy it for that. The balls of yarn, if you could really call them that, were
absolutely hideous.

There was no way they would be able to
recover the cost of the wool.

On the other hand, he reasoned, at least
the princess was actually trying her hand at the chore. That alone was a fair
achievement for the day.

He would have to remind his smirking
sister of that.

At the end of the day, Roderick was
ready to be done with his own chores. As he walked back along the road to his
sister’s hut, he tried to rub a tight spot from his shoulder. Harvesting had
been exhausting. He was out of practice with such work. But even though he was
tired, he had to admit a full day of physical labor had been satisfying.

When he came upon the hut, he couldn’t
resist first inspecting Liesel’s empty work area. He walked up to it, steeling
himself for disappointment, but was soon pleasantly surprised.

She had obviously come a long way during
the day.

The yarn was not perfect, but there were
several balls made of a fairly even consistency neatly stacked on top of the
ragged balls below.  It was a fair amount of progress for just one day.

“Well done,” he whispered as he turned
one of the balls of yarn over in his hand.

She would have yarn fine enough to sell
by the end of the week, he wagered.

He set the ball down, and then headed
toward the hut.

“Good evening,” he greeted as he bent
his head beneath the short doorway. The two young women turned his way as he
entered. They were across the room, toiling together over a steaming pot of
soup.

“I see you’re teaching Liesel to cook,”
Roderick commented with approval.

“She’s just stirring—not cooking,” Maria
corrected. “I’m not that ambitious.”

“Well, it smells wonderful,” Roderick
noted.

He studied Liesel as she carefully
stirred the pot. It appeared that the heat of the soup bothered her as she had
wound a long piece of fabric around each of her hands. A bit peculiar, he
admitted, but at least she was helping.

Maria inspected the soup one final time
before declaring it ready. After everyone had gathered at the table, Roderick
noticed that Liesel seemed reluctant to begin eating. She was just staring down
at the bowl in front of her with her hands lying listlessly in her lap.

“It’s very good, Maria,” Roderick
complimented. “Truly, Liesel, you should try it.”

After a slight hesitation, Liesel lifted
a wrapped hand and reached for her spoon.

Maria eyed Liesel’s wrapped hand with
disdain. “It’s
not
that hot.”

Liesel dropped her hand back to her lap.

“I think I’ll wait,” she responded, her
head bowed.

“Nonsense, you should eat with us,”
Roderick countered.

She glanced up at him for a brief moment
before quickly bending her head back down. “I don’t think I’m hungry tonight.”

“You haven’t eaten for hours,” Maria
disputed. “I’m not making anything else tonight. It’s this or nothing until the
morning.”

Liesel still didn’t look up.

Roderick watched Liesel intently for a
few moments and then asked, “Liesel … is something wrong with your hands?”

“I’m fine.”

“May I see them?”

Liesel looked up to meet his eye. “I’m
fine.”

“Liesel,” he said a little more sternly.
“Let me see your hands.”

“I said I am fine,” she repeated in an
equally firm tone.

Roderick stood up and Liesel’s eyes
widened in fear. As he walked around the table, she hastily stuffed her
rag-covered hands into the pockets of her apron.

Roderick dropped to a knee at her side
and tugged on her arm.

“Please, Liesel.”

She held firm at his initial tugs, but
she eventually surrendered with a sigh. He drew her hand out and then carefully
unwound the rag from around it. He was appalled by the sight.

Her hands were red and swollen, with
numerous blisters and cuts across her palms.

“What happened?”

Her eyes filled with tears and she
looked away.

“Liesel, you must tell me how this
happened,” he demanded.

She dragged her eyes back up to look at
him and admitted softly, “It was just the spinning.”

“My goodness,” Maria exclaimed. “It’s
indecent to be that delicate.”

“Maria,” Roderick scolded. “That’s
hardly helpful. Liesel, why didn’t you just stop? I never meant for the
spinning to harm you.”

“I’ll be fine,” she insisted. “My hands
will heal. I’m sure they’ll look much better in the morning.”

Roderick gently looked her hand over
once more before finally releasing it.

“But there was no need to hide it from
us. You must be starving. Go on and eat your supper.”

The three ate in silence until Maria
excused herself to go outside to tend to her chickens. 

When Liesel finally stood to leave the
table, Roderick stood as well.

“Let me take that,” he offered as he
took her bowl and spoon from her hands. “Stay here. I’ll be back in a moment.”

He returned with a small towel and a new
bowl filled with fresh water. “Now let me see those hands,’ he instructed.

“Really, I’m fine,” Liesel replied,
hiding her hands once again in her apron pockets.

“Come, Liesel. It’s the least I can do.”

He gave her a look to let her know he
could patiently wait for her all night.

She succumbed with a sigh. She unwrapped
her hands and then looked down at them with shame as they rested limp on the
table.

“You should be proud of all you did
today,” he reminded.

“It’s just so … frustrating.”

He carefully dipped the towel in the water
and pressed it softly to her torn flesh. “I’ll find something else for you to
do,” he assured.

Her fists clenched. “I’ll toughen in
time.”

He spread her fingers out once more and
continued to cleanse her wounds.