Princess without a Palace: A King Thrushbeard Fairy Tale (19 page)

Roderick was waiting beside the door,
casually leaning against the wall, and greeted the pair with an arrogant grin.

“Here is your beloved,” Hilda announced,
bringing a blush to Liesel’s cheeks. “But be careful to not let her catch a
cold if it rains. I can’t afford to lose my best help.”

“You can trust me to take care of her,”
Roderick promised to Hilda, but with his eyes firmly fixed on Liesel.

Liesel avoided his gaze, looking down at
her feet instead as she felt the heat on her cheeks spread to her ears.

Hilda smiled. “I know. Now off with you
both. You’ll have to race these clouds home.”

Now that’s an idea
,
Liesel thought to herself with relief. She hadn’t been able to avoid this walk
with Roderick, but she could do everything in her power to ensure it wouldn’t
last long.

“You are right, Hilda. We must hurry
without delay. Come, Roderick,” Liesel called over her shoulder as she began to
briskly march down the lane.

Roderick had to jog to catch up with
her.

“Why are you walking so fast?” he asked
between breaths as he fell into step at her side.

Liesel gave him a quick, sidelong glance
before answering, “Hilda told us to hurry.”

“I don’t think she intended for us to
run.”

“I’m not running.”

“And that’s a pity, since I think it’s
easier to run at this pace.”

“You’re welcome to do as you please,”
she replied without slowing her steps.

Nothing more was said, and Liesel had to
strain to maintain her place half a step ahead of Roderick as they rushed
through the city and into the marketplace. It wasn’t easy since Roderick had
longer legs, but avoiding conversation made it worth it.

A rain drop splattered against her
cheek, and she looked down to see several more plopping around her. She raised
her chin again. The rain would not slow her.

But the rain began to accelerate in its
decent and their cobblestone path was soon painted with a slick coating.

Seconds later, Liesel slipped, and
Roderick grasped her elbow to keep her from falling, but she yanked her arm
away. She was quite capable of making it home on her own. However, since she
didn’t want to fall and make a fool of herself, she did relent a little on the
briskness of her pace.

They turned a corner and began walking
down a steeper lane which quickly began to test her resolve to remain upright.
When she slid and almost slipped again, she had to bite back a regrettable
exclamation. It was obvious her cursed purple shoes hadn’t been made for
adventuring.

“Your shoes seem to be giving you some
trouble,” Roderick noted.

“Well, they weren’t exactly made to
withstand the elements. They were made for …”

“Made for what?” Roderick prompted when
she didn’t finish.

She dropped her gaze to her feet, all
too aware that her face must surely be as red as a tomato. She couldn’t believe
she had almost blurted that the shoes had been made for “dancing.” She
definitely didn’t want to encourage any more of that after what had happened
the other day. But at least she had caught herself in time.

“Not this,” she finally responded lamely
before hurrying on, “but I have walked in them in the rain before, as you might
remember. I’ll be fine as soon as we reach the dirt country roads.”

However, she soon slipped again, and
Roderick swiftly wrapped a strong arm around her waist to help hold her up.

She tried to wiggle free, but he held onto
her tightly.

“I can walk just fine on my own,” she
protested.

He looked down at her with a twinkle in
his eyes, and replied simply, “Obviously.”

A clap of thunder sounded overhead,
seeming to release a waterfall of rain from the skies. Roderick quickly steered
her to the side of the lane to find shelter under a nearby overhang, but Liesel
resisted. She moved to continue on, but Roderick pulled her back.

“I don’t want to stop,” she proclaimed.

“We can’t walk in this. It’s not safe.
Especially for you in those shoes. This will pass soon enough and then we will
continue onward. But for now, we have to wait.”

Liesel hated that she knew he was right.
As much as she wanted to turn away and walk on by herself, she knew she would
only last a couple of steps before she inevitably lost her balance and landed
on her back in what was certain to be an embarrassing display.

Roderick slid to sit on the ground, leaning
back against the wall, and after a moment Liesel reluctantly joined him. But she
made sure she sat a safe distance away.

He shook off his wet hat, and set it
beside him.

Liesel eyed it curiously and asked, “Why
the large hat?”

“I was pretty certain it would rain
today. And it appears I am right.”

Liesel nodded and then looked around at
their surroundings. The street was completely desolate. Not a soul could be
seen. She felt quite uneasy to be so alone with him. Hadn’t she just days
before resolved not to let such a thing happen?

She was content to wait out the rest of
the rain in silence, but Roderick had other plans.

“Liesel, may I ask you a question?”

She finally looked over at him with a
mixture of fear and trepidation, and suggested, “Let’s just sit quietly and
enjoy the sound of the rain.”

But Roderick shook his head. “No. You’ve
been so busy lately I’m not sure I’ll ever have another chance to ask you and I
would really like to know something before you leave.”

Liesel sighed. She supposed she could
grant him one small question. She folded her arms tightly and then surrendered,
“Alright. You may ask it.”

Roderick paused, and she wondered if he
had changed his mind, but then he asked, “What
did
you do to make your
father so angry that he would ever send you away to marry a traveling
minstrel?”

Liesel felt a painful pang in her heart
as all of the memories she had pushed away during the last few weeks came
flooding back to her mind. She sorted through the pain for a moment until she
felt she had some control over her emotions and then finally answered, “I
scorned the suitors he brought home for me to consider. It was an unforgiveable
act. I tarnished his honor and so he disowned me.”

Roderick nodded and studied his clasped
hands resting on his bent knees for a moment before he further asked, “And why
did you refuse them?”

“I only promised you one question,” she
reminded.

“What else do we have to do while we
wait?” he asked, waving to the unrelenting rain. “Please, Liesel. I’ve done
everything in my power to help you during these last few weeks. Please let me
understand you better before you slip from my life and I never see you again.”

Liesel bit her lip as she debated what
to do. He was asking her to reveal things she had buried, things she had sworn
to leave behind in the life that had ended when she had left her castle. She
finally looked at him, hoping he would have compassion when he saw her pain,
but it was
his
eyes that moved
her
. They were silently pleading
with her, and she wondered if he was hiding some fear of his own as well. She
couldn’t look away and she realized she had to tell him. He had indeed given
her so much and this was all he was asking for in return.

“I didn’t want to ever marry. Especially
not a prince,” she answered quietly.

“Why not?”

Liesel exhaled a shaky breath. Fear
swept over her as she wondered if her heart would threaten to collapse if she
unearthed things that were hidden so deeply inside. Things she had never given
words to. Would she be haunted forevermore if her fears were finally given form
by speaking them aloud?

Liesel surmised Roderick had probably
given up hope she would ever answer by the time she finally opened her mouth to
speak. “As a child, I adored my father. He was my favorite person in the entire
world. I wanted nothing else than to be with him and to be like him.”

She let out a laugh and added, “And
considering my stubbornness, I suppose I did turn out to be like him in some
ways.”

Roderick smiled as well and she
continued, “But he was often away fighting one battle or another. There was
always something calling him from home. And he was always willing to go.”

“So you hated how other kingdoms always
stole him away?”

Liesel shook her head. “No, it wasn’t
that. He was even more of a hero to me because he could help so many people.
No, I think I decided not to marry when I became old enough to understand the
real dangers of war. After I realized the risks he took every time he entered a
battlefield, then every time I said goodbye, I was left agonizing over whether
he would ever come home again. And I hated living like that. I hated the fear.
I hated the uncertainty … And since I was a princess and could only marry a
prince who would most certainly be swept into an endless supply of battles as
well, I decided to simply never marry. I loved my family dearly. I could have
been completely content living the rest of my days with them. Never having to
ever say goodbye.”

She looked back at Roderick with a sad
smile and shrugged her shoulders. “But instead I was banished because of my
resolution. And now … I’m left without any of them.”

“Liesel-” Roderick began, but Liesel
shook her head to stop him from voicing his sympathy.

“Please don’t. It’s actually just
amusing how ironic everything turned out.”

“Liesel,” Roderick repeated and she
quickly turned away.

“And to think,” she hastily continued,
eager to be the one to fill the silence, “that not only did I lose my family,
but my father betrothed me to a minstrel whose occupation also keeps him from
home for long stretches of time.” She smiled weakly, trying to lighten the
somber mood that hung over them and joked, “But at least a prince would have
had a castle.”

“But there are not as many dangers for a
minstrel to face in his kind of work,” Roderick pointed out.

“Not unless your audience begins to hurl
things at you in an effort to make you stop singing,” she argued.

“But you know I sing well enough that
that wouldn’t happen,” he answered with confidence.

“Your voice means nothing if your lyrics
are weak,” she countered.

“I’m sure my audiences will always
appreciate the song about the princess and her shoes,” he said with a wink.

Reflexively, she tucked her shoes
beneath her skirts again and scowled.

Roderick laughed. “And now I can add
another verse about them causing the fair princess to slip.”

Liesel shook her head. “You give
yourself too much credit, sir. I suggest you take a shield for protection if
you ever attempt to perform such a song.”

Roderick laughed, but then his eyes
quickly grew somber. “But you could be sure, that if I was fortunate enough to
have you waiting home for me, nothing—not even flying objects from angry kings—would
ever keep me from coming home to you.”

“Please don’t tease me,” she pleaded,
turning away. “I shared my secrets, but I didn’t expect you would ever treat
them so lightly.”

“I’m not teasing,” Roderick assured, taking
her hand and entwining her fingers through his own. “I promise to always,
always,” he repeated with emphasis, “treat your heart with only the upmost
care.”

She turned away from him, but he didn’t
release her hand. The letter from Prince Cornelius seemed to burn at her side
and she reminded him, “I’m leaving in four days, Roderick. You shouldn’t say
such things to me.”

“I can’t let you go without a fight,
Liesel. I know I said I would help you leave, and I will if that is what will
make you happy, but I can’t do it without telling you first that I desperately
hope you will change your mind and decide to stay.”

“Roderick, this isn’t part of our agreed
plan,” she argued, shaking her head.

“It wasn’t my plan either,” he admitted,
the corner of his mouth turning up to form half a smile. “But I have fallen in
love with you, Liesel. And now I want nothing more than for you to stay here …
as my wife.”

“Oh dear,” she whispered, pulling her
hand again, finally breaking free. She practically jumped into the air as she
sprang to her feet and turned away from him. She tried to put some distance
between them, attempting to think things through more clearly. But the
thunderous pounding of her heart was too great a distraction, and Roderick was
quickly at her side again.

“I have kept the vow I made to myself to
tell you what I want,” he said softly. “But you haven’t said yet what you
want.”

Liesel closed her eyes and tried to think
again. Eventually she shrugged her shoulders and honestly declared, “I don’t
know what I want.”

She turned back to face him and
admitted, “Things were so clear before, but you’ve made me question everything
I thought I wanted.”