Princess without a Palace: A King Thrushbeard Fairy Tale (4 page)

Only when they were all seated with
Cornelius safely away out of hearing distance, did the queen turn on her elder
daughter.

“Liesel, what do you think you are
doing, embarrassing your father and me in such a way? Return to your room this
instant and change out of that ridiculous dress before your father sees you.”

But it was too late.

“Liesel!” the large king bellowed. King
Waldemar quietly excused himself to join his son.

“Richmond, we mustn’t make a scene,” the
queen scolded softly. “And you needn’t lose your temper. Liesel was just about
to leave to change, weren’t you?”

“Well, actually, I-”

The king’s dark look silenced her
objection.

“Liesel, we are not asking,” her mother
warned. “Return to your room at once.”

Liesel hesitantly rose to her feet, but
the arrival of a company of bearded men entering through the large doorway of
the great hall made her pause where she stood.

“Go now,” her father commanded hoarsely.
But Liesel was frozen, arrested by the sight of the newcomers.

As the men marched forward to stand
before the great king, Liesel’s mother yanked on her arm, pulling her back to
her seat. “Stay where you are.”

Liesel was confused.

“I thought you wanted me to leave to
change,” Liesel reminded.

“Not now,” the queen answered sharply.
“Stay in your seat and perhaps no one will notice your clothes.”

Liesel’s eyes strayed back to the group
of men. She had never seen such a sight before. There were about a dozen of
them, each towering tall and broad like sturdy oak trees. But what especially
caught her eye was the fact that every one of them had a long, drooping beard
over half a foot in length. The bushy beards were combed smooth and curled
under at the bottom. The beards reminded Liesel of the small thrush bird’s beak
she had seen just the day before.
The Thrushbeards,
she thought to
herself, amused by her own cleverness.
What a perfect name for them
.

King Richmond stood and addressed the
men. “King Carl, I welcome you to my court. We are honored by your presence.”

“We are honored to be here,” the other
king returned in a rich, deep voice.

Liesel scanned the men surrounding the
visiting king, wondering which one must be the son Gretchen had talked about.
It was hard to tell the men apart since they all had the same coloring and were
dressed in the same style. The only exception was the king who she could mark
by his graying temples.

She acknowledged Gretchen had been right
in her judgment of the prince. If her parents gave her no other choice but to
select a suitor, she didn’t think any of these men would be able to compete
with the handsome Prince Cornelius.

She was still scanning the faces of the
company of men, wondering if they must all be related to one another for how
similar they were in appearance, when she noticed one of the men was watching
her as well. Her eyes locked with the stranger’s for just a moment before she
hurried to look away. She was unsettled by the way his gaze had seemed to
pierce her, penetrating the confident façade she always presented to the world.

After the new arrivals were escorted to
their seats, King Richmond ordered the first courses to be presented and the
minstrels began serenading the company with soft music.

As conversations sprung up around her,
Liesel kept her focus fixed on her food, determined to weather the evening in
invisible silence.

But the new king thwarted her plan.

“You have two beautiful daughters,” King
Carl noted to her parents. “But what odd traditions you have that the younger
daughter should wear finer apparel than the elder.”

“We don’t claim such a tradition,” King Richmond
remarked bitterly with an angry look toward Liesel.

His wife reddened beside him as she
searched for a suitable explanation to offer, but like always, Adelaide was
prepared to step in and readily voiced, “Oh no, good King, it is just my
sister’s noble heart.”

In her sweet voice she continued, “She
dresses like that to remind herself to always be mindful of all of the citizens
of our country … even the peasants.”

“Is this true?” King Carl asked Liesel,
looking notably impressed.

Liesel felt like her tongue was swollen
in her mouth and felt powerless to reply. She had no desire to reveal her
sister as an outlandish liar by refuting the claim, but she certainly didn’t
feel comfortable being attributed such a benevolent motive.

“My sister is too modest to own it,”
Adelaide answered on her behalf. “Modesty is another one of her many virtues.”

Adelaide leaned forward to catch
Liesel’s eye down the table and smiled mischievously. The king and queen
visibly relaxed between them. Adelaide had safely thwarted the catastrophe they
had feared.

Liesel shook her head. Adelaide had gone
too far. Much too far. It was time to regain control of the situation.

She cleared her throat. “Prince
Cornelius, my sister told me that she very much enjoyed riding one of your white
horses this afternoon. Your father must be very proud that you are able to
raise horses so suitable for ladies.”

She said it so sweetly Prince Cornelius
had to pause for a moment to decide if she had truly given him a compliment or
an insult.

But his father spoke for him, “I am
proud of all of my son’s many accomplishments.”

“And you forget, Princess Liesel, that
those are your horses now,” Prince Cornelius reminded.

“Indeed,” Liesel acquiesced. She then
turned to the bearded men. “And speaking of accomplishments … King Carl, I
wonder that I have never heard much of you or your country before. In all of
the tales I have heard my father tell in this hall of great conquests and
glory, I don’t think I have ever heard him speak of the Kingdom of Brenhausen …
But perhaps there just isn’t much to tell.”

King Carl’s eyes widened in shock.

“Liesel, I command you to leave this
room,” her father roared as he threw his fist down into the table.

“Please, Richmond,” his wife implored.
She then addressed the bearded king. “We must beg you to excuse our daughter.
She speaks of things she knows nothing about. This is quite out of the
ordinary. I do not know what has come over her.”

King Carl set his spoon aside and folded
his arms across his chest. “It would seem the fearless warrior who often boasts
about commanding tens of thousands appears to be unable to control his own
daughter.”

“I assure you that is but anything close
to the truth,” King Richmond replied with a dark look toward his daughter.

Liesel began to protest, but her mother
gripped her knee firmly under the table, silencing her midsentence.

The exchange wasn’t lost on the bearded
king.

“It makes no difference.” King Carl
stood and the rest of the bearded men followed suit. “I believe I have seen
enough to know there is no potential for any alliance. Your daughter appears to
enjoy engaging in battles as much as you do.”

“Please,” King Richmond implored. “At
least finish your meal.”

“I thank you, but no. We will not impose
upon your court’s
hospitality
any longer.”

“Then at least allow me the honor of
escorting you back to your rooms,” King Richmond requested humbly.

After the bearded men had followed the
kings through the great doors, the queen turned to her daughter with
fire-filled eyes.

“Go to your room, Liesel.”

“But I,” Liesel began.

“Please come, milady,” Gretchen
interceded, speaking softly from behind her seat. Liesel didn’t know how long
the maid had been standing there, but she felt a degree of relief upon hearing
the kind voice so close. The maid took the princess’s elbow, urging her to
rise, and she silently obeyed.

As they exited the hall, there were no
other sounds to be heard in the room than the clicking of their shoes. The
noise echoed throughout the entire chamber, pounding against the silence like
the beatings of an executioner’s drum.

B
ack
in her room, Liesel paced the floor for what seemed like hours before she was
finally summoned to her parents’ chamber downstairs. Upon her arrival, she
found the king and queen standing together on the far side of the room wearing
expressions that could quell the courage of lions.

Two servants noiselessly appeared behind
the princess to pull the doors tightly closed. As soon as the thud of the bolt
was heard, her father’s rage erupted.

“Do you have any idea of what you’ve
done?” he fairly shouted.

“What do you mean, Father?” Liesel asked
softly, her shoulders firmly squared.

The mighty king shook his head. “I wish
I could believe you to be so ignorant of the damage you have wrecked this night
upon my name, upon my court, and upon my honor.”

“Surely the damage cannot be so severe,”
Liesel contended. “Isn’t it true that you have never spoken of Brenhausen in
all your many tales of great battles?”

The king threw his arm toward the door. “Didn’t
you see their beards? That is a sign of peace!” He paused for a moment to let
that sink in and then clenched a fist in front of him, “They have no need of
war because of the inherent strength and greatness of their country. To be
sure, I have never mentioned them in my tales of battles, but that is only
because no one would ever dare go to battle against them and they have no
desire to interfere in others!”

“Oh,” Liesel answered weakly, her cheeks
flushed. But how was she to know that her father’s silence on the subject of
Brenhausen was due to its might instead of its insignificance?

“You have forfeited the greatest
alliance I have ever hoped to achieve,” he lamented. “But at least you have not
driven away your other suitor as of yet. Prince Cornelius will never be as
great, but after tonight I doubt you are deserving of better. You have at least
been civil to him thus far, haven’t you?”

Liesel forced back the stinging tears
that threatened to answer his harsh words, and could only stammer, “Well, I …”

“Liesel,” her father growled.

“Well, I don’t know why you must be in
such a great hurry to be rid of me!” she erupted.

“Do you really have to ask that after
your appalling display tonight?”

Liesel shrunk back a step as his icy
words sliced through her heart.

The queen rushed forward to intervene.
“We do not want to be rid of you, dear. We are only trying to secure you a
suitable match.”

“A match that is suitable to you, you
mean. But what if I do not wish to marry a great king? Or any king for that
matter?”

“Do not be ridiculous,” her mother
brushed her daughter’s declaration aside. “You were born to be a queen.”

“No,” Liesel countered emphatically. “I
was born a princess and a princess is what I wish to remain. I do not see any
reason why I must marry. Little Frederick will be our king.”

“Liesel, enough of this,” her mother
ordered. “You are on perilous ground and you mustn’t provoke your father
further.”

“It is too late for such warnings,” the
king proclaimed. “My mind is already made up.”

“Please, Richmond. Let us discuss this
first,” the queen pleaded, turning back to her husband.

“I do not see what good that would do,
Marlena,” the king replied. “Our daughter stubbornly insists that she does not
wish to marry a mighty king and perhaps it would be best if I grant her that
wish.”

“What do you mean?” the queen
questioned.

Liesel held her breath as her father
turned to face her. Although his words hinted at hope, she felt a sense of doom
hovering over the brief silence.

The king pointed a thick finger at her
and declared, “We will have no more of your childish antics, young lady. I will
have compassion on my friend, King Waldemar, and send him and his son away
tomorrow. But after that you will turn away no more suitors from my door. The
next man who asks, be he a peasant or a mighty king,
he
will have your
hand in marriage.”

“Any man?” Liesel breathed, bewildered.
“You cannot be serious.”

Turning toward the queen she pleaded,
“Mother?”

But her mother only looked away.

“Your father has spoken,” the queen declared
quietly.

Trembling threatened to seize her limbs,
but Liesel refused to succumb to the display of weakness. Instead, she clenched
her jaw and raised her chin to look straight into her father’s eyes.

“Is that all?” Liesel asked in a
measured tone.

The king waved her away. “You are
dismissed.”

Liesel turned to retreat from the room,
but as she began to push the door open to leave, her father’s voice stopped
her.

“Prepare yourself, daughter. The next
man who dares to ask—whoever he may be—there will be no objections.”

Gripping the door, Liesel closed her eyes
and nodded. “I understand, Father.”

But she prayed that her father’s threat
would never be realized. She planted all her hopes on that possibility.

After all, word would soon spread that
she had not only scorned Prince Cornelius, but the mighty Thrushbeard prince as
well.

And after that was common knowledge, who
would ever be bold enough to ask?

Moisture clouded her eyes, but Liesel
quickly wiped the tears away.

What had she done?

She charged down the hall, eager to find
a place to hide and register the shame that was sweeping though her.

Why had she forced her father to such an
extreme decree?

Oh, if only she had listened to
Gretchen! If only she hadn’t brushed Adelaide’s pleadings aside! She hugged her
stomach tightly. An ache was growing deep within her that she feared would soon
consume her.

“Excuse me,” she mumbled, almost
barreling into a towering figure as she rounded a nearby corner.

“On the contrary, I must beg your
pardon,” the deep voice answered, stepping aside.

She glanced up and anger swelled inside
her. It was the bearded stranger from the banquet hall.

Why must he torture her with his presence
at her lowest of low moments? If only he and his companions had never ventured
from their rich and lofty kingdom.

“May I escort you somewhere or be of any
assistance?” he questioned.

“Thank you, but … I’m sorry, I just …”
she stammered before finishing firmly, “No, thank you.”

Avoiding his gaze, she kept her head
down as she resumed her retreat. Her steps quickened to almost a run as she
hurried to increase the space between them.

She didn’t know where to go. She had no
desire to return to her room with the possibility of a lecture from Gretchen
awaiting her there.

She turned a corner and her heart felt
drawn to a nearby door. Instantly, she found herself yearning for the familiar
comfort she knew she would find inside.

She knocked lightly and then quietly
entered the room.

Her eyes scanned the area until she
spotted the young child sleeping against a servant’s shoulder.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like a moment
alone with my brother,” Liesel explained softly.

The nurse stood to transfer the baby to
Liesel and assured, “I’ll just be in the next room if you need me.”

“Thank you,” Liesel answered, “I think
I’ll be fine though.”

But still, the nurse left the door
slightly ajar as she left, enabling her to hear the baby from afar. Liesel
smiled into her brother’s soft hair. She was glad he was so well-looked after.

She cradled the warm baby against her
and walked in slow circles around the moonlit room. She relished the soothing
affect her young brother had on her. He was so small, yet he seemed to emit an
endless supply of love.

“How is my little miracle baby this
evening?” she asked softly. “I fear your sister has been making a fool of
herself tonight.”

Prince Frederick exhaled a deep breath
against her shoulder and Liesel replied, “I’m afraid it’s true. But if all
turns out well, you may be stuck taking care of me in this castle forever. You
wouldn’t mind that, would you, my little prince? Adelaide seems to think
otherwise.” 

The prince made no reply, but continued
sleeping soundly against her.

“I thought not,” Liesel murmured,
hugging him a little tighter.

She closed her eyes and swayed with him
back and forth, back and forth, until she felt peace reach into the deepest
parts of her soul.

She held him like that for countless
moments until fatigue at last overcame her and her legs no longer felt steady.

Parting with the little prince, she laid
him on his bed to rest. She tucked his soft blankets around him, and then
leaned down to kiss one of his plump, round cheeks.

“I love you, little Frederick,” she
whispered.

She loved him terribly. And despite the
evening’s events she knew she loved each of her other family members just as
well.

She never wanted to part with any of
them.