The Wide-Awake Princess (10 page)

“Why?” Annie asked, dragging her gaze from the water to Liam. “I’m the princess. As my guard, you should just—”

“That’s exactly why,” Liam replied. “You’re a princess. We’re in a foreign kingdom without an adequate escort to keep you safe, so it’s up to me. I’ll do what I can, but you’ll be safer if we don’t let anyone except Digby know who you are. There’s no saying what people would do if they knew the truth, so whatever you do, don’t tell anyone else that you’re a princess. You’re still dressed as a boy. Let them think that that’s what you are.”

Annie shook her head. “My first visit to another kingdom and I’m going as a boy. It’s not exactly how I pictured it.”

“If we keep you safe now, someday you’ll be able to go on a grand tour and do it with style.”

“Maybe,” said Annie. “But if I can’t tell people who I am, how will I get an audience with Digby?”

“We’ll go to the castle first,” said Liam. “Someone there can tell us if Digby’s at home. If he isn’t, they might be able to tell us where he went.”

A wall separated the town from the land beyond it. Though there were guards at the gates, none challenged Annie, Liam, or any of the other people entering on foot. Annie looked around her as she stepped into the shadows of the buildings that lined the narrow streets.

Shops and taverns vied for space with homes that couldn’t be more than a small room wide. The second floors of many of the structures extended over the streets, blocking the sun so that it almost seemed as if night had come early. Unlit torches protruded from brackets on some of the buildings.

They were passing one such building when a door banged open in front of them and two men tossed a disheveled-looking figure into the street just feet from Annie and Liam. The man lay sprawled on the ground for a moment, then rolled over, got up, and staggered down the street, muttering to himself.

“Do you think he needs our help?” Annie asked, taking a step after the man. “He might be hurt. Those two men—”

Liam set his hand on her arm and pulled her back. “He doesn’t need the kind of help we could give. That was a tavern,” he said, pointing at a sign swinging overhead, “and I’m sure they had their reasons for throwing him out.”

“Isn’t it a little early for that?”

“Apparently not,” said Liam.

Walking along the streets of the town, Annie thought that the people were as interesting as the buildings. She heard accents from many different kingdoms and saw clothes that were a jumble of all sorts of styles. Because it was obvious that she was paying more attention to the people than where she was going, Liam placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her around
the unsavory puddles and piles of refuse that would never have been allowed to accumulate on the streets of Shelterhome.

Although Liam seemed to know where he was going, Annie soon lost all sense of direction. When she glanced up, hoping to see the castle, the buildings so completely blocked the view that they reached the castle entrance before she was even aware that they were close.

A long line of visitors hoping to gain access to the castle grounds waited for their turn to pass through the gate. When it was Liam and Annie’s turn, Liam stepped forward and said to the guard, “We’re here to see Prince Digby.”

“Are you now?” the guard replied, letting his gaze wander up and down both Liam and Annie.

Annie tried not to blush, but the man didn’t notice and had already turned his attention back to Liam.

“And why should we let boys like you in to see the prince?”

“Because we have urgent news about Princess Gwendolyn,” Annie said, forgetting her agreement to let Liam do all the talking. “Prince Digby needs to hear it right away.”

“Really?” sneered the guard. “And what would that be? If it’s good enough, I’ll see about letting you in.”

“We can’t just—,” Annie began.

“Never mind,” said Liam. “Come along, brother. This was a waste of time.”

Annie was still protesting when Liam hustled her away from the gate and into the jostling crowd. “What are you doing?” she asked, trying to pull away from him. “I’m sure we could have convinced him to let us in!”

“Probably, but not to see Digby. You have a girl’s voice. He was bound to realize the truth if you’d kept talking, and we’d both have been thrown in the dungeon as spies. They’d never believe a princess would come to the castle like this.”

“Then how do you suggest we find Digby?”

“We’ll ask someone else,” said Liam. “There are always people ready to gossip about a royal family. Look for someone who likes to talk. Someone like… that man over there.”

A short little man with a large belly had set up a stall near the end of the line of people waiting to go through the gate. The smell of hot grease wafted through the crowd, and more than one person was already munching the crispy pastry-wrapped meat pies he was selling. As another customer walked away from the stall, Liam approached the vendor.

“There’s quite a crowd here today,” Liam said, handing the man a coin. “Is it always like this?”

“Most days,” the man replied. Wrapping a hot meat pie in a scrap of parchment, he dropped it in Liam’s outstretched hand. “Some days it’s a lot busier, especially when there’s a beheading or when the troops come back from a skirmish. I can’t keep up with the demand then.”

“Or on holidays, when the royal family opens the gates to hand out food and such. There’s never enough that’s free, so people turn to Garvey and me since they’re already in a holiday kind of mood,” said the taller man in the next stall. “People with money always spend more on holidays.”

“Does the royal family come out often? We were wondering if we’d see Prince Digby today,” Liam said, glancing back toward the castle.

“You must not be from around here,” said Garvey. “Everyone here knows about Digby. Where are you from?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Treecrest,” said Liam.

The taller man nodded as he skewered a tiny fried fish on a sharp stick. “Digby went there a few months back, didn’t he? I remember hearing something about a princess.”

“That’s right,” said his friend. “She’s supposed to be a real looker. Have you ever seen her, or is she one of those prisses who never goes where she might get her dainty little shoes dirty?”

Annie opened her mouth to speak, but Liam pinched the back of her arm. “I’ve seen her,” he told them, “and she’s as beautiful as they say.”

The man selling the fried fish shook his head. “She can’t be any prettier than my wife.”

“What are you talking about?” Garvey said, turning on him. “My backside is prettier than your wife!”

“How can you say that? She’s your cousin!”

“Then I should know, shouldn’t I? Why, just the other day my uncle said to me—”

“So what about Prince Digby?” Liam interjected before they really got distracted. “Does he come out of his castle very often?”

Garvey snorted. “Is he ever in it, do you mean?”

“He’s not here right now,” said the other man, reaching for another fried fish. “But if you wait around, you might see him sooner or later.”

Garvey took a coin from a customer and nodded his thanks. “Later, if you ask me,” he said, glancing at Liam. “He’s probably at the Castle, like always.”

“I thought you said he wasn’t here,” Liam said, looking confused.

The man selling fish shook his head. “Not this castle, boy. He means the Gray Castle Tavern. You can’t miss it. The Castle is the prince’s favorite. He’s there more often than he’s here. Now,” he said, turning back to Garvey, “why would you say that about my wife when...”

As the two men resumed their argument, Annie and Liam slipped through the crowd and headed back into the town, splitting the cooling meat pie as they walked. “The Gray Castle was the tavern where that man was thrown out,” Annie said, licking the grease from her lips as she glanced at Liam. “I remember the sign—a gray castle on a field of green. Digby might have been in there when we went past.”

“Unfortunately,” said Liam. “If that’s the case, I hate to think what kind of shape he’s going to be in when we catch up with him.”

When they found him, Digby was seated with two barmaids perched on his knees, watching bleary-eyed as the tavern keeper refilled his tankard. It was apparent from the expression on his face and the way he moved with exaggerated care that he had already been drinking for some time. The half-dozen men seated around him were even further gone than he was; one was snoring with his head on the table and two were arm-wrestling in spilled ale, laughing each time they slammed their arms down and splashed their faces.

No one paid any attention to the two newcomers until Liam took a seat near the prince. “I didn’t give you permission to sit,” Prince Digby said, and took a large gulp from his tankard. When he tried to set the tankard down, he hit the edge of the table and dumped most of the ale on one of the barmaids. She shrieked and hopped to her feet. Scrubbing at her clothes with the filthy rag she used to wipe the tables, she scurried from the room, leaving Digby and the other barmaid laughing.

“I can’t talk to him when he’s like this,” Annie told Liam.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Annie had never had to help a drunk get sober before,
but apparently Liam had, because he knew just what to try. He explained to the tavern keeper the kind of assistance he needed. The man refused to help until he heard how many coins he would be paid. Suddenly Liam had all the help he needed from the tavern keeper and two of Digby’s less drunk friends. Digby seemed to think it was funny when Liam ordered a large mug of beef blood, stale ale, and a few even less savory ingredients. He didn’t find it amusing, however, when the tavern keeper brought the concoction and the four men made Digby drink some. They were able to get nearly a third of it down the prince’s throat before he knocked it out of their hands, declaring, “I’m not drinking that swill!”

“Then we’ll try something else,” said Liam, hauling Digby to his feet. The tavern keeper supported the prince’s other side while Liam draped Digby’s arm across his shoulders and walked him out the back door to the well used by all the buildings sharing the common open space. Annie watched from the doorway as they alternated dousing the protesting prince with bucket after bucket of ice-cold water and walking him between the buildings. By the time they let him sit on a bench, he was drenched and shivering, but didn’t seem quite so drunk.

“We came to talk to you,” Annie began. “It’s about Gwendolyn.”

“Do I know you?” he asked, peering at her through nearly closed lids.

Annie sighed. “It’s me, Princess Annabelle. You know, Gwendolyn’s sister.”

“The plain one!” exclaimed Digby.

“She isn’t plain,” Liam said, thumping the prince on the back so that he nearly fell off the bench.

“Hey!” Digby exclaimed. He turned around to face Liam, standing behind him. “She’s wearing pants and looks like a boy! What do you expect me to think? Although even when she’s dressed like a princess, she still—”

Liam thumped Digby again. “The princess has something to say; listen to her.”

The prince turned back to Annie. “What’s this about? Is Gwendolyn here? I knew she’d pine away for me! After I kissed her in the garden she—”

“No, she’s not here. We have a problem and it’s up to you to fix it.”

“What kind of problem?” Digby said, suddenly looking sly.

“I’m sure you’ve heard about the curse,” Annie began. “Well, it’s happened, despite all our efforts. Gwennie pricked her finger on a spinning wheel and will sleep until her true love kisses her. My mother insists that you’re the one to do it, and she sent me to tell you so.”

“Why did she send you? Why not a regular messenger?”

“Because everyone else is asleep,” said Annie. “Apparently it was part of the curse.”

“Why aren’t you asleep, too?” asked Digby.

“Because the magic missed her, that’s why,” Liam said before Annie could respond. “So, are you going to do it or not?”

“I don’t know,” said Digby. “It doesn’t sound safe...”

Liam’s lip curled in disgust. “You’re supposed to be a prince! If you’re ever going to be king, you should start acting like one!”

“What do I get if I do kiss her?” Digby asked.

“You’ll wake your true love from an unending sleep,” said Annie.

“Uh-huh.”

“You’ll earn the gratitude of an entire kingdom.”

“I really don’t think—”

“You’ll get to marry her.”

“And?”

“And be king of Treecrest someday,” Annie added, getting a bitter taste in her mouth when she said it.

“Now that’s more like it!” Digby declared, jumping to his feet. “I’ll go right now and—”

“Don’t you think you should clean up and get your horse first?” asked Liam.

Digby looked down at his dripping tunic and nodded. “No sense going anywhere looking anything but my best,” he said, then glanced at Annie and sneered. “Unlike some people, I care about appearances.”

“I can tell,” Annie said, glancing from Digby to the
tavern door. “Listen, you’ll have to go on ahead without us. We have an errand to take care of first. We’ll meet you there as soon as we can. If you get there before we do, don’t try to get through the roses until I’m there to help you.”