Princess without a Palace: A King Thrushbeard Fairy Tale (10 page)

BOOK: Princess without a Palace: A King Thrushbeard Fairy Tale
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Liesel made a face at his retreating
figure before slumping back down onto her stool.

She tilted her head up just a fraction
so she could survey the people meandering down the lane. The longer she
watched, the more self-conscious she became of her appearance. More and more,
she wished she hadn’t been banished in such a plain peasant dress. Compared to
the passing commoners, she looked like a beggar.

She decided to let out her braid to let
her hair hang loose to conceal her face. How she prayed no one she knew would
stumble upon her!

She was thus sitting when an elderly man
with long, white hair began setting up his merchandise in the scant space next
to her area.  

He shuffled around, carefully setting
out fine pieces of jewelry on a small table. He didn’t have much, but the few
pieces he did have were breathtaking. Liesel eyed each of the pieces longingly.
Her spirits fell, knowing she would never wear such things again.

After all of the necklaces and bracelets
had been arranged just as he wished, he caught her looking at him and greeted
her with a nod and a cheery, “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” she returned, looking
away. 

“You are new to this street,” he
remarked. “I haven’t seen you before.”

She nodded.

“My name’s Albert. What do they call
you?”

Fiddling with her skirt, she wondered
how she should answer. She was tempted to lie to better protect her true
identity, but his kind smile gave her the courage to at least admit, “My name’s
Liesel.”

Speaking the words aloud made her feel
so plain and empty without her title. Her dirty dress didn’t help either.

“It’s nice to meet you, Liesel. What
brings you to these parts?”

“I need to earn money … so I can be
married.”

“It’s a lucky fellow who has stolen your
heart,” he complimented with a kind smile.

Liesel blushed, but didn’t admit that
neither she nor the future groom had had any choice in the matter.

A gruff, middle-aged man approached,
saving her from any reply. She watched him pick up one of her large jugs and
inspect it thoroughly, turning it over in his hands.

“How much for this?” he asked at length.

She shrugged. “How much do you want to
pay me?”

One of his eyebrows rose with interest.
“Two copper coins,” he declared confidently.

“Suits me,” Liesel said, accepting his
money.

“And two coins for this vase?” he
pressed, selecting another item eagerly.

Liesel nodded. After handing her the
money, the man quickly disappeared down the lane.

The old man beside her cleared his
throat and remarked, “Might I offer a suggestion?”

“If you must.”

“I think you might have more luck if you
set your prices a little higher.”

“What do you mean ‘more luck?’ I just
sold two items.”

“For very,
very
little …” Albert
replied with a cringe.

Liesel felt her ears grow hot. How was
she to know? Oh, how she hated feeling foolish.

He patted her hand in an attempt to
comfort her. “A simple word of advice—if a customer acts too eager, then you
aren’t charging enough.”

“What should I charge?”

“That will vary with each item … In the
least, you should recommend a price that gives you room to negotiate. People
expect as much in the market.”

Liesel groaned. She did not feel
comfortable with these sorts of matters.

She sat in dejection, worrying over her
inevitable failure as a merchant. Her eyes wandered over each of the pots. What
price should she ask? They certainly didn’t appear to be worth that much by her
standards.

Fortunately, with her head bowed, she
avoided attracting any more customers for the rest of the day so she never had
to make a decision about it. Not until she was collecting her pottery pieces to
place them back into her handcart, did anyone else approach her.

A little girl came forward and tugged on
her skirt.

“That boy just stole a cup!” the girl
cried, pointing at a retreating figure running down the street.

Liesel watched helplessly as he
disappeared, her hands on her hips. He must have stolen it when she had had her
back turned, she realized. She exhaled a sigh of frustration and turned back to
the girl.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said,
patting the girl on the head.

The girl raised her small hand, palm up,
and waited patiently in front of her.

Liesel sighed. The little girl
apparently wanted to be paid for her service. She grudgingly relinquished one
of her small copper coins and sent her on her way.

When Liesel had finished packing up all
of the pottery, she plopped back down onto her stool.

“Are you waiting for someone?” the old
man asked as he finished collecting his jewelry.

“My … betrothed is coming for me.”

“Would you like me to stay with you
until he gets here?”

“No, I will be fine. I am sure he will
arrive soon ….” she responded without enthusiasm.

The old man looked down at her with
apparent compassion. “Today was a slow day. I’m sure you’ll have more success
tomorrow.”

“We’ll see.” She wasn’t convinced.
Multitudes of people had traveled along the lane that day and obviously her
success had been slim.

“Just wait. All you need is a little
time. Farewell. I’m certain I’ll see you soon.”

“Good night, Albert.”

“Safe journey home, Liesel.”

Hardly any time had passed after
Albert’s departure before Roderick appeared.

“How was your first day in the market?”
he inquired in greeting.

She made a face. She doubted he was interested
in hearing what she really thought about it.

“Didn’t you have any luck selling
anything?”

“I did, but …” She wasn’t sure how to
reveal the bad news.

“But?” he prompted. “What did you sell?”

“I sold a jug and a vase, and had a cup …
run away.”

“What?”

“A little boy stole the cup! I didn’t
even see him do it! The sneaky little thing took it when I was putting
everything away!”

“You need to be more careful, Liesel. At
least it was just a cup. But it could be something else next time. Something
more valuable. We can’t afford to lose anything. Not even a cup.”

“I’m sorry,” she exclaimed in
frustration. “I didn’t know someone would do such a thing!”

“Of course someone would do such a
thing! You have to be on your guard in the city. I thought you would know
better!”

He tried to set aside his frustrations
before continuing, “But enough on that. Let’s see how much you earned today.”

She could tell he was straining his
voice to sound more cheerful.

Liesel withdrew the three copper coins
from her pocket and held them out for him to see.

“Where’s the rest of it?”

“There is no ‘rest of it.’ This is it.”

“What?”

“Well, there was more, but I had to give
one of my coins to the little girl who informed me of the thief.”

His eyes widened in astonishment.

“She fairly demanded it,” Liesel
defended. “I think she’d still be here if I hadn’t. I didn’t have a choice.”

Roderick placed his hands on Liesel’s
shoulders. “Liesel,
every one
of the items I gave you to sell is worth
more than you made today. Even the lost cup. Just the jug alone should have
fetched at least 20 copper pieces!”

Liesel thrust his hands away. “Well,
whose fault is it that I didn’t know? You just dropped me here this morning
without any kind of real instructions. You can hardly be mad at me for not
instinctively knowing what you wanted me to do and how to do it!”

Roderick closed his eyes and rubbed the
bridge between them. After a sigh, he confessed, “You are right.”

“Then I can be done with all of this and
return to spinning?”

“Of course not.”

Liesel threw her hands up in the air.
“And why not?”

“Because I’m not giving up on you yet,”
he returned with a smile.

“I think you should,” she countered.
“Why should I have to pay the price of your stubbornness?”

“Because you can do it.”

She folded her arms in defiance, but he
paid her no heed. Instead, he picked up the handcart and nodded that she should
follow him.

“Come, Liesel. We have no time to waste.
As soon as we get home, I have some teaching to do.”

Liesel dragged her feet forward. She was
in no hurry to return to the hut.

Chapter Eight

 

A
s
soon as they arrived home, Roderick retrieved their savings jar from the
mantle.

“Since I won’t be paid until the end of
the month, you have the honor of being the first official contributor to our
collection,” he declared as he ceremoniously held out the jar before her.

Liesel actually wished she hadn’t sold
anything so she could have avoided the unwanted attention. She felt Maria’s
eyes upon her as she grudgingly withdrew her three small coins and plopped them
into the jar. The faint tinkle of the small coins echoed in the hollow space.

“Hmmm,” she heard Maria muse. “At that
rate, I’m not sure I’ll live to see the wedding.”

“This was only Liesel’s first day,”
Roderick contended on Liesel’s behalf. “Patience. Just wait until she’s had
more practice.”

“I’ll do my best,” Maria remarked drily.
She then excused herself to tend to the livestock outside.

Roderick hauled in several of the
different pottery items and arranged them on the kitchen table. He then waved
for Liesel to join him.

He was all seriousness as he began his
lecture. “The first and most important rule of any business endeavor is not to
lose money. You’re not going to the marketplace to give things away. You’re
there to earn a profit.”

“An easy task if you know how much was
spent on the pottery,” Liesel argued.

“Exactly. And I accept full
responsibility for failing to enlighten you on that subject. Tonight I’ll make
a list of the minimum prices that you can afford to sell each of the items. But
for now, based on my experience in the market and some rough calculations, I estimate
that the cups should sell for no less than five copper pieces, vases should
sell for about fifteen, and the jugs, with their fine, sturdy handles should
sell for at least twenty pieces.”

“Thank you.”

“But the second rule is to set your starting
prices high. If you only ask the minimum, then that is all you’ll receive. If
your customers accept your first price, then you need to aim higher the next
time.”

Liesel nodded.

“And the last rule,” he continued with a
warning. “You have to be willing to let the customer walk away. There’s no
reason to give anything away and if they want it, they’ll spend what they need
to get it.”

He let the rules sink in before he
asked, “So are you ready to practice?”

Liesel couldn’t think of anything she’d
rather do less after already spending a full day in the marketplace.

But he wouldn’t let her refuse. “You’ll
remember more if you practice. I’ll be the merchant first. Come … pretend to be
interested in one of these pieces.”

Liesel felt ridiculous participating in
his fictitious market, but didn’t see how she could avoid it. She reluctantly
approached and picked up the closest item: a stout and sturdy vase.

“I see the vase has caught your eye,”
Roderick stated in his best merchant’s voice.

Liesel looked at him like he had lost
his mind, but he persisted. “And you’re not alone. All my other vases have been
purchased today, and this is the last one left.”

“So this is the vase that no one else
wanted?” she contested.

“No, this one is just as fine as the
other vases,” he countered with a smile. “You are just fortunate that the other
customers couldn’t afford to buy this one too.”

“Hmmm,” Liesel answered, looking it
over. Warming up to the exercise, she added, “It is attractive, in its own way,
I suppose.”

Liesel pretended to appraise it more
thoroughly and then asked, “How much do you want for it?”

“Forty copper pieces.”

“For this old thing?” she exclaimed.
“I’ll offer you fifteen.”

“I’d sooner part with my favorite
horse!”

She smiled. “You only have one horse.”

“Which is why he is my favorite,” he returned
with a wink. “No, I cannot possibly sell this vase for less than thirty.”

Liesel put a hand on her hip and coolly
countered, “Twenty. It’s my final offer.”

Roderick leaned over the table and
answered with equal confidence, “Twenty-eight and it’s yours.”

She set the vase back down on the table.
“I’m tempted to just walk away.”

He shrugged. “If you’re willing to risk
losing my
very
last
vase, what can I do? Perhaps none of these
other people will snatch it before you change your mind and return.”

“That’s right,” she noted, rolling her
eyes. “I forgot about all of my imaginary competition.”

Roderick smiled and then continued to
press her, “So what will it be? Twenty-eight or will you walk away?”

Eager to be done with the exercise, she
willingly relented, “Fine. You win. I’ll pay twenty-eight pieces for it.”

Handing it over, he observed, “Actually,
I’m not the only one who won.  I know you gave in much too easily because you
want to be done with this, but we still both won. I wanted to make a profit,
which I did. And you wanted my price to come down, which you successfully
achieved. It’s a bit of a game, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out. The more you
practice, the better you’ll play. Which is why it’s your turn now.”

He waved her forward to take his place,
but when she traded with him, he didn’t take hers. Instead, he started walking
toward the door.

Confused, she called after him, “Where
are you going?”

“To go get Maria,” he responded as if it
should have been obvious.

“What for?” she asked, although she
dreaded hearing his answer.

He leaned back through the door to
explain, “To help you practice, of course. If you can successfully sell to
Maria, I’m fully confident you can survive
anyone
in the market.”

And with a final smile he quickly closed
the door behind him, leaving her no chance at all to object.

 

 

The next day, the sun was beating down
so intensely, Liesel feared she might actually melt right where she sat in the
marketplace. She feverishly fanned herself as she waited for a new customer to
approach. Glancing up, she could tell from the sun’s position that she still
had half the day left. She groaned. She wished she could hurry the sun along.

Selling during the morning had been
slightly better than the day before. She hadn’t earned as much as she would
have liked, but at least no one had stolen anything. At least as far as she
knew.

For the hundredth time that day, her
idle thoughts strayed to Roderick. Now that man was a riddle. At her father’s
decree, he had regarded her with scorn, but now he was her greatest ally. He
should have hated her, but instead he was only showing great kindness and
encouragement. She could tell he had a naturally cheerful disposition, which
probably aided his transformation, but she was still surprised by such sudden
loyalty. Perhaps as a peasant he had to be more practical than emotional, and
couldn’t waste time being angry when there were chores to be done.

Regardless, she could only conclude that
he had an unnaturally good heart. Unless her father had bribed him to be nice
to her … but no, that seemed unlikely and Roderick seemed too genuine.

She sighed. She still didn’t want to
marry Roderick and be a peasant forever, but she felt the pricks of regret in
her heart that he hadn’t been born a prince. Perhaps he could have softened her
to the idea of marriage, and this disaster could have been avoided altogether.
He certainly had the looks of a man who would have caught her eye …

But such thoughts were futile so she
forced them again from her mind. Roderick was a peasant. A very fine peasant,
but a poor man nonetheless. She still had no intention of resigning herself to
such a life.

 

 

Roderick took a short break from his
work that afternoon to escape to the marketplace. He quickly found Liesel in
the same place he had taken her the day before, but he kept his distance so he
could watch as two women drew near to her. Liesel forced a smile and bartered
back and forth with them for a while until an agreement was finally made.

As the money changed hands, Roderick
nodded his approval. Liesel was coming along quite nicely. Even better than he
had hoped or expected. What she lacked in experience, she more than compensated
for with her endless supply of stubborn determination.

Maybe there was actually hope he would
be able to keep his end of the bargain he had made with her father. In exchange
for his cooperation with the betrothal, Roderick had been promised that if
Liesel could be humbled and taught to appreciate all she had been given, he
would be released from the betrothal when her father traveled through
Brenhausen at the end of the month. All he had to do was accomplish that great
task, while keeping the deal a secret from Liesel.

Convincing Maria to cooperate had taken
more effort than he had expected, but at least she seemed to be resigned to the
situation now. He would have to find a way to thank her for being such a
supportive sister when the month was over and the deal was complete.

But with Liesel’s efforts at the
spinning wheel and now in the marketplace, Roderick was beginning to see that
his future freedom might actually become a reality. Liesel may have been
spoiled, but she wasn’t without grit. He could see that the strong spirit that
had been her downfall would also be what would save her.

He watched Liesel wearily fan herself
until another customer approached. After squaring her shoulders and burying her
fatigue, she smiled brightly at the old woman who had arrived to inspect her
pottery. He was impressed with how well she concealed her misery.

There was obviously more to Liesel than
just her beauty and royal bearing, although she had both in abundant supply. He
hoped he would be able to help Liesel see that too in time.

 

 

Over the next few days,
Liesel steadily improved in her new profession at the marketplace. With an
increasing income, she no longer found herself embarrassed to add her earnings
to the savings jar at the end of each day. Long gone was the faint echo of her
first few meager coins. Now the coins sounded more like a brief and heavy
downpour as she deposited them into the jar each day.

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