Princess without a Palace: A King Thrushbeard Fairy Tale (22 page)

Maria smiled. “Yes, I am.”

“And Roderick? Is he really your
brother?”

“Yes. He’s the crown prince of
Brenhausen,” Maria answered. The corner of her mouth turned up and she reminded
unnecessarily, “The prince you rejected.”

Liesel felt her heart plummet deep
within her. Her face faltered, revealing the lack of confidence she was feeling
and she admitted, “I don’t understand.”

Maria glanced around the room to ensure
their privacy and then she sat on a nearby chair and indicated that Liesel
should sit as well.

But Liesel shook her head. “No, thank
you. I’d rather stand.”

“Suit yourself,” Maria answered
nonchalantly. She then clasped her hands together, and asked in a
self-indulgent tone, “Where do I start?”

“You might explain why you, a princess,
were living in poverty,” Liesel replied, her tone sounding more like an
accusation than a suggestion.

“That is a suitable place to begin,”
Maria approved with a smile. She paused dramatically and then began, “You see,
my father rules his home and country in a more peculiar fashion than most other
kingdoms. He wouldn’t stand for just any sort of person ruling as a monarch, so
he designed a test that all of his children must complete. When a child comes
of age, he sends them out into the country to live one year on their own,
without any help and without any title so we can learn empathy for the poor and
less privileged in our kingdom. Roderick did it when he was eighteen, two other
brothers have also successfully passed their test, and today marks the end of
my own test. My year is complete,” she finished proudly.

Liesel didn’t congratulate her.

“That is why,” Maria eventually
continued, “when Roderick witnessed your appalling behavior in your own court,
he suggested to your parents that you might benefit from such an arrangement.”
She fell silent for a moment and then added, “But unfortunately, for your sake,
your father only thought you would last a month.”

Liesel refused to react to the woman’s insult.
But she couldn’t deny that Maria’s words had cut deeply. More than she would
ever let the merciless woman know.

“And knowing you would never agree to it
on your own,” Maria explained, “the farce of a betrothal was devised so
Roderick would have the excuse to bring you to live with me so you could learn
to be a little more humble and much less selfish.”

Liesel could be silent no longer.
“Please do not talk about me in such terms. You do not know anything of my
heart.”

“You’d be surprised,” Maria replied with
an arched brow. Her eyes fell to the purse bulging from the pocket of Liesel’s
apron, and she inquired. “Are those coins for your little jar?”

Liesel’s silence was telling and Maria’s
face filled with mock sympathy again. ”Look around, Liesel. Roderick doesn’t
need your coins.” She paused and then added quietly, “He was never filling that
jar for anything.”

Tears burned in Liesel’s eyes, and her
throat felt like it was swelling closed. Could it be true? Had Roderick only
been pretending the whole time? If that were true, then the dance, the kiss,
and the words that had sent her heart soaring had only been nothing but a
charade.

She suddenly felt like her heart might
shatter, but she refused to fall apart. At least not there, right in front of
Maria. She swallowed, pushing the lump she felt in her throat deep within her,
and she forced her eyes to not stray from Maria’s. She refused to display any
indication of weakness.

“Well,” Liesel replied when she had finally
collected herself. “I’m afraid I believe I have monopolized your time long
enough. Your faithful subjects are beside themselves with happiness by the
return of their beautiful, sweet, and generous princess. You wouldn’t want to
keep them waiting, would you?”

Liesel paused to let her words hang in
the air and it appeared Maria was quite uncertain how to interpret them.

“Now if you will excuse me, I must
return to the kitchen,” Liesel said in an unmistakable tone of finality. She
then walked swiftly toward the place where her fallen platter still lied and
swept it into her arms.

“I have not dismissed you yet,” Maria
called at her retreating back.

Liesel turned around and proclaimed,
“And I am not your subject. So you may order however you like, but I am under
no obligation to serve you.”

She then swung around on her heels and
marched from the room.

When she entered the kitchen, she knew from
Hilda’s face that the old woman could see that something was wrong. Hilda was
at her side in an instant.

“Is something wrong, dear? Your face has
lost all its color.”

Liesel clutched her stomach with her
hand. “I’m afraid that I am suddenly unwell. Do you mind if I return home?”

The old woman patted her arm gently and
answered, “Of course not, dear. Would you like me to call Albert to escort you
there?”

Liesel shook her head. “No, thank you.
I’m sure I’ll be able to find my own way.”

Hilda looked hesitant, but nodded her
head in agreement. Liesel tried to force a smile of gratitude before she then
pressed on through the kitchen and into the fading light outside.

Finding herself feeling more alone than
she had ever felt in her life, she glanced around, at a complete loss at where
to go.

For although she had assured Hilda that
she could find her own way, she realized that she did, in fact, no longer have
any home.

L
iesel
hoisted the heavy jar of coins from one side to the other and cradled it in the
crook of her arm. Why had she asked Albert to collect so many confounded coins?
She again cursed that impulsive decision, which had now proved to be nothing
but foolish. Although she was tempted to sprinkle some of the bronze bits along
the side of the road, she refrained. Lightening her load right now was not
worth jeopardizing her future.

At the sound of distant horse hooves,
she quickly darted from the road and hid behind some nearby bushes. She set the
jar of coins on the ground beside her and waited for the lone rider to pass. As
an unchaperoned young woman, she could not risk being found by a bandit or any other
person who might possess less than noble intentions.

When the rider had safely come and gone
and the sound of the horse’s hooves pounding the dusty ground could no longer
be heard, she ventured from her hiding place and resumed her trek down the road
through the forest.

She sighed, but then pushed her
shoulders back, resigned to continue along the never-ending road stretching out
before her. She had no idea how many hours she had spent walking since she had
arisen that morning from an exceedingly fitful night of sleep, but considering her
throbbing feet and the way the sun was hovering high in the sky, she knew she
had been walking for quite some time.

She stumbled on an exposed tree root,
but caught herself before she fell. She forced her gaze down to watch her
steps, anxious to avoid spilling her jar of coins.

Her jaw hardened as her eyes focused on
the gaping holes where her buckles had been. Pebbles kept creeping in through
the torn openings, and Liesel wondered if the ragged shoes would even last
until she made it to Pozlow. She prayed they would. How humiliating would it be
to return to one’s former kingdom not only destitute, but barefoot as well!

Liesel again doubted if she was doing
the right thing by returning to her homeland. She was positive that certain
humiliation awaited her there, but she reasoned that was better than the
humiliation she would face and be reminded of daily if she remained in
Brenhausen.

What a fool she had been! She imagined
Maria must still be laughing at her and her cherished purse of coins. Her heart
was pierced by the thought as she was reminded yet again of just how easily she
had been deceived by King Thrushbeard’s dishonest children. She was just
thankful she had found out about the deception before she had presented the jar
of coins to Roderick. Heat sprang all the way to her ears as she blushed at
that thought. She was mortified to think of the embarrassment that act would
have caused them both. At least she had been spared that particular
humiliation.

Perhaps she should have been a little
stronger, shown more resilience by waiting for Prince Cornelius to arrive and
take her back to his kingdom after the ball. But the prospect of possibly
seeing Roderick again after he had told her so many lies was just more than she
could bear.

Furthermore, since she suspected Roderick
would assume she had fled with Prince Cornelius, she had decided to start out
for her homeland as soon as she had gathered her belongings from the hut, eager
to just disappear. She never wanted to see him again.

Her eyes stung with tears, but she
forced them back. She had wasted far too many tears on Roderick already and she
refused to afford him any more. Tears would solve nothing.

But she could still be mad.

Thinking back over the last few weeks,
she wasn’t surprised that she had believed him—after all, he had been quite
convincing. She was just angry with the casual way with which her heart had
been treated.  

She had finally been willing to give it
away only to find he hadn’t really been seeking it.

A song thrush perched on a nearby
branch, but Liesel refused to acknowledge its presence. She didn’t care how
charming the speckled bird’s song might sound. She had little patience for
thrush birds (and Thrushbeards) at present.

Not long after the song of the little
song thrush had faded into silence, the sound of more horse hooves reached her
ears and Liesel immediately dashed into the bushes along the road again. She
cursed all of the travelers who kept appearing. At this rate, she was sure she wouldn’t
reach her homeland for several more days.

Liesel absentmindedly counted the rocks
in the dirt as she waited for the traveler to pass. This traveler seemed to be
moving more slowly than most, and Liesel couldn’t help but offer a silent plea
to urge his horse along. She was ready to be on her way again.

The slow pace was soon explained when it
became apparent that there were multiple horses as a carriage accompanied by
half a dozen riders finally came into view through the trees. Liesel held her
breath as the carriage approached, watching intently for any flag or emblem
that might identify its nationality.

When the carriage rounded a nearby bend,
Liesel gasped. Emblazoned across the side with an unmistakable “P,” was her family’s
golden crest.

She really shouldn’t have been all that
surprised since this road was the main connection between the two kingdoms, but
her hands trembled and her heart hammered against her chest while she watched
the carriage approach. It didn’t feel quite real to have a member of her family
so close again.

She wondered if she should reveal
herself, but her heart instantly rebelled at that thought. Her parents had been
just as much a part of the deceptive ruse as Roderick and Maria, and she
doubted she would ever be able to forgive them for that.

Liesel kept her eyes glued on the
carriage as it passed. She was grateful to see the curtains were not drawn over
the windows. Even though she didn’t wish to speak with her parents, she
couldn’t help but wish to see them so long as she could do so in secret.

The carriage passed and Liesel hastily
scanned the interior to see who was riding within. Her heart immediately gave a
great leap as she realized that her parents were not inside. It was only
Adelaide with one of her maids.

Unable to constrain herself any longer
at the sight of such good fortune, she clutched her jar and dashed from her
hiding place, frantically calling out to her beloved sister, “Stop! Please, you
must stop!”

In her peasant clothes and filthy
condition, she must have been beyond recognition for two of the soldiers turned
back to block her path with swords drawn to prevent her from approaching any
further.

She tried to push past them, but they
wouldn’t let her through.

“Please, I must see my sister,” she
begged, watching the carriage roll on.

“Be off with you, peasant. Do not
disturb her Royal Highness,” the larger of the soldiers responded gruffly.

Despair swept through her until a familiar
blonde head topped with curls poked out of one of the carriage’s open windows
to see what the disturbance was all about.

“Adelaide,” Liesel whispered in relief
as her eyes locked with her sister’s.

She watched her sister’s bright blue
eyes widen in shock. At least Adelaide could still recognize her.

“Liesel!” Adelaide cried. “Is that
really you? Stop this carriage!” she yelled, smacking the side of the door with
her hand. The younger princess then turned back toward the soldiers and
fiercely ordered, “Put down those swords this instant!”

As soon as the stunned soldiers had collected
themselves and lowered their swords, Liesel pushed her way past them.

“Liesel!” Adelaide exclaimed again,
leaping from her carriage. She ran to her sister and threw her arms around her
in a fierce embrace. Liesel clung to her sister just as tightly. She had missed
her dearly and words could not describe the relief she felt to finally see her
again.

Eventually, Adelaide pulled back and
exclaimed with much surprise, “What are you doing here? I thought you were in
Brenhausen!”

“I left,” Liesel answered simply.

“I see that, but why?”

Liesel looked around at the guards
looking on, and Adelaide nodded her head.

“Or course,” Adelaide answered. She then
turned to her maid to excuse her from the carriage, and then opened the door
for Liesel. “Please, come inside and tell me everything that has happened.”

Adelaide stepped back to give her sister
room to enter, and then reached for the jar and offered, “Here, let me take
that for you.”

Liesel willingly transferred the heavy jar
to her sister’s arms and then boarded the carriage. After setting a small bag
containing her few belongings on the floor, she collapsed into the middle of
one of the plush, satin seats, and savored its luxurious comfort. It was one of
the many things she realized she had taken for granted before.

Adelaide took the seat right across from
her and offered her a small smile. She then leaned forward and picked a few
stray leaves from Liesel’s hair and questioned, “How did you manage to get so
many leaves in your hair?”

“I slept in the woods last night and
tried to keep myself warm in a bed of leaves.”

“Why did you have to sleep in the
woods?” her sister asked, more than a little horrified. “And why did you
leave?”

Liesel sighed and looked out the window.
After a few moments of silence, she instead asked, “What do you know about my
betrothal?”

Out of the corner of her eye she could
see Adelaide shake her head. “I don’t really know anything. At first, Mother
cried any time anyone mentioned you or the minstrel so Father ordered no one to
speak of it. Only this morning, as I was leaving, did Father finally mention it
again. He told me that I could bring you home if I went to the ball in
Brenhausen. He wouldn’t say anything else, but I was eager to look for you
there.”

Liesel nodded and then looked back at
her sister. “And where are our parents? Why didn’t they come with you?”

“Mother had to stay home, because little
Frederick is sick and not fit for traveling. Father said he doesn’t need to
arrive early, because he doesn’t require any time to dress and prepare for a
ball,” Adelaide answered with a hint of a smile. “He will be following later
today.”

More silence ensued and Adelaide asked
again, “Why did you leave, Liesel? What happened?”

Liesel looked down at her clasped hands,
and debated what to say. She was reluctant to admit her shame, but she knew there
was no one in the world she could depend upon to offer compassion and comfort more
readily than Adelaide. When Adelaide reached over and covered her hands with
her own, Liesel could stay silent no longer.

“It was never a real betrothal,” she
explained. “But I thought it was. I worked hard. I tried to adjust to my new
life. At first I had planned to save money and leave so I could start my own
life. But then …”

“Yes,” Adelaide prodded when she didn’t
go on.

Liesel looked up, her eyes brimming with
tears. “But then I fell in love with him,” she whispered.

Adelaide squeezed her hands.

Liesel nodded to her savings jar at
Adelaide’s side and admitted, “I even sold the silver buckles from my shoes so
we would have more money to marry.”

“Oh, Liesel, what happened?”

“I found out the betrothal wasn’t real.
The minstrel arranged everything with father beforehand. It was only a
contrived punishment from father to punish me for dishonoring him. The minstrel
was only pretending.”

“Who was the minstrel? A random soldier
or peasant?”

“No … The crown prince of Brenhausen.”

“The bearded prince? Oh, Liesel …”

Liesel closed her eyes. “I insulted his
father and his kingdom. And now his family has exacted their revenge. I shall
never cease to shrink with shame when I remember just how easily everyone
fooled me!”

“Surely our father could not be so
heartless as to throw you into such an arrangement!”

“Father and I always fought, and you
know him—he always has to win. He wanted to break my spirit … but instead it
was my heart that ended up breaking.”

Adelaide moved to sit at her side and
wrapped her arms around her. “What do you want to do now?” she asked quietly.

“I want to return to Pozlow. I want to
speak with Mother since she was apparently not happy about the betrothal
either.” Her eyes met her sister’s and she finished, “I want to put my time in
Brenhausen completely behind me.”

“I will order the carriage to turn
around as soon as possible,” Adelaide replied without hesitation.

Liesel smiled with relief, but asked,
“Are you sure you won’t mind missing the ball?”

“I want to be with you more than I want
to attend any ball. And after the way that prince played with your heart, I
wouldn’t accept any hospitality he or his family tried to offer me anyway.”

“Thank you, Adelaide,” Liesel murmured,
resting her head on her sister’s shoulder.

Adelaide patted her head lovingly and
advised, “You should rest now. You must be exhausted after walking for so long.
I’ll inform the driver that we will be returning at once. You just go to sleep.
We should be able to reach our castle before sundown.”