Born to Rule

by Kathryn Lasky

  “But now for dessert.” The Queen Mum raised a long white hand in the air and snapped her fingers. Attendants extinguished the largest candles. A long “aaah” and gasps of amazement followed as two lines of footmen entered. Each one held an elaborate fantasy of spun-sugar cakes and molded ice creams. Set atop these delectable structures were sparkler wands fizzing with light.

  “It’s the Great Ship Maude! How totally ice!” exclaimed Kristen as a dessert was set before her. This was apparently a Sea of Salt Tears expression.

  “It’s Heart’s Purr,” said Myrella as another footman gave her a spun-sugar castle. The castle appeared to float on a pond with water lilies made of frosting.

  “The Belgravian Gardens,” Alicia said as a wave of homesickness overcame her. “The swans are so lovely.”

  “And the fourteenth regiment of the Grand Grenadiers. Oh, look, even little cannons! It’s the battle of Pliny Field. Very important.” Gundersnap bent forward to examine her dessert. “Ooh, the cavalry looks yummy!”

  “Who wants a sail? I think they’re made of marzipan,” Kristen said as she dismantled the Great Ship Maude by pulling out its chocolate mast.

  “Why was that particular battle so important, Princess Gundersnap?” Alicia asked.

  “A very savage king was defeated. He enslaved all the people. Even children were forced to work for notting, and the whipping boy’s family received no pay.”

  “Whipping boy!” Kristen almost shrieked. “Hello! That went out a couple of centuries ago.”

  Alicia turned to Gundersnap. “Do any royal households still employ whipping boys? It’s so…so…so Dark Ages.”

  But Gundersnap had turned quite red. “Well, I think it has, for the most part.”

  Alicia had the most dreadful feeling that perhaps the Empress of All the Slobodks still employed a whipping boy to receive the beatings for the small crimes and mistakes of any royal child. She knew that Gundersnap had fifteen brothers and sisters, so they probably had to have at least two or three whipping boys. The more Alicia heard about the Empress Maria Theresa, the less she liked about her.

  After dessert the princesses followed the Queen Mum to the Hall of Music. The third-year princesses sat on a stage, each with a caged bird on her lap. The first to perform was Princess Kinna from the Queendom of Mattunga, a beautiful princess with skin the color of dark cinnamon. She wore her hair in a cascade of hundreds of braids.

  “How many braids do you think she’s wearing?” Kristen whispered.

  “One hundred forty-eight,” Princess Rosamunde answered. “It’s the fashion in the Queendom of Mattunga.”

  “Queendom?” Alicia asked.

  “Yes, only women are allowed to rule.”

  Princess Kinna took her bird from its cage. She gave the bird a small signal and it opened its beak. A long stream of notes poured forth. At certain points Princess Kinna joined the bird in song.

  It was a stunning performance. Alicia gasped as the music ended. Yes, indeed, if one could lead a songbird to sing so beautifully, one could lead a nation to greatness, Alicia thought proudly. There was loud applause.

  “Inspiring!” the Queen Mum exclaimed. Onstage she congratulated Princess Kinna. Then she turned to the audience. “It can be done, miladies. It can be done!”

  But Alicia was worried. She was good at a lot of things, and she was musical, but could she do this? The idea of the contest being so important made her nervous. Very nervous.

  That evening Alicia felt a chill in her room that added to her unease. She lit her special reading candle. It had a small hood so no one could see the light from under her door.

  She snuggled beneath her velvet blankets and ran her hand lightly over her book’s tattered cover, embossed with gold scrolling that had long ago lost its gleam. She opened the book, read a few lines, and sighed with utter delight. Yet she was still mystified. Why had these two lovers been separated?

  Their love was so deep it was almost painful. The Forgotten Princess enchanted Alicia, and she read a few more lines before her eyes began to close. Suddenly worn out by all of the evening’s excitement, she tucked the book under her pillows and fell deeply asleep.

  From the window, a sliver of moonlight stole across her face as the clock began to chime midnight, and something cold brushed against her cheek. Someone seemed to whisper into her dreams, “There is more to my story. You must help….”

  By morning she had forgotten the words, forgotten even her dreams. But still she had awakened with the odd feeling that there had been a presence, or perhaps a visitation, as she slept.

  Chapter 5

  A MYSTERY IN STITCHES

  Princesses always had breakfast in bed. It was a custom in most kingdoms to avoid “the morning’s royal crankies.” But the crankies returned in full force when Kristen and Gundersnap were informed by Gilly that their first activity would be needlepoint.

  “Borrrrring!” said Princess Kristen.

  “Vee haven’t von anyting yet!” said Princess Gundersnap. “Vot is there to stitch about?”

  Alicia simply yawned. It was still winter, and she was feeling lazy. As much as she loved to embroider, she would much rather curl up with her book and sip hot chocolate with lots of whipped cream by a cozy fire.

  But off to needlepoint they went.

  “Gently, gently, Princess Kristen. You’re not on a hunt heaving a spear into a wild boar. This is needlework.” There were muffled giggles from all of the princesses who sat at the large embroidery frame as they began to stitch the background for the camp tapestry.

  The needlepoint counselor, Lady Merry von Schleppenspiel, was an enormous lady. She did not simply have double chins, but quadruple, quintuple, octogubble chins.

  Alicia silently counted them as she stole glances from the portion of the panel she had been assigned to work on. There were indeed eight chins. The woman was of enormous girth, and the seams of her sea-blue silk dress appeared ready to split. Her fingers looked like sausages. Her feet poked out under the ruffled hem of her dress. They were tiny but oozed out over the edges of her shoes.

  Alicia frowned at her work. She was proud that Lady von Schleppenspiel thought she was ready for the complicated split stitch, which was usually left for the third-year princesses. But it was very difficult. She had had to pick out the threads from the feather of a bird in the Forest of Chimes three times now.

  “Princess Kristen, I gave you the snow daisies. Those are easy. It’s a straight simple stitch,” Lady von Schleppenspiel said gently.

  “Maybe for you, Lady von Schleppenspiel. But my hands are accustomed to holding an oar or a jousting lance,” Kristen replied. Then under her breath she added, “This sucks!”

  There was a wave of tittering from the other princesses. “Yes,” Kristen continued. “In the Realm of Rolm, girls can joust. They can also sail boats and ride on boar hunts if they are so inclined. And I am. I don’t give a pinch for the needle arts and all that. Give me a lance, a spear, or a sword. Those are my needles!”

  “Well, my dear.” Lady von Schleppenspiel cocked her head so that several of her chins seemed to slide off to one side. “If you don’t finish the tapestry, it shall never be displayed, and since I am the needlepoint counselor, it is my job to see that it is completed. Just look around you when you walk through the castle and you will see our camp history. All the tapestries for all the hundreds of years of Camp Princess have been finished.” Lady von Schleppenspiel paused for effect. “All except one, that is.”

  “Why wasn’t it finished?” asked Alicia, suddenly interested.

  “Oh, if it’s true, it’s rather a sad story.”

  “Do tell us, please!” Princess Gundersnap asked in a pleading voice.

  “Yes, do!” said Princess Kinna.

  “Princess Kinna of the Queendom of Mattunga, you as a Third Year have heard this story many times, I would imagine.”

  “Yes, but it is a lovely story, Lady von Schleppenspiel.”

  “It is a story as u
nfinished as the tapestry,” replied Lady Merry.

  “Go on!” the other princesses urged.

  “Well…” Lady von Schleppenspiel sighed. “It was said that more than a century ago, a princess with a broken heart took refuge here. No one knows why her heart was broken or why she came to Camp Princess. Some say that she had been a camper here in her youth. In any case, when she returned she became the needlepoint counselor. Her stitches were supposedly magnificent—tiny, tight, and they gleamed. But she never laughed or smiled, and she hardly ever ate. She wasted away until finally she died of a broken heart.”

  A hush fell over the room. Needles stopped moving, and sighs could be heard coming from more than a few princesses.

  Lady von Schleppenspiel broke the silence.

  “The oddest part,” she continued, “is that year’s tapestry vanished. It simply disappeared within an hour of the princess’s death.”

  “Was it stolen?” Princess Gundersnap asked.

  “Why would anyone steal an unfinished tapestry?” Princess Kristen asked.

  Yes, thought Alicia. Why would anyone steal an unfinished tapestry, unless they did not want the rest of the story to be finished and therefore known? This was a true mystery. Alicia’s mind wandered as she continued stitching.

  When the needlepoint hour had ended, the princesses of the South Turret found themselves together in one of the many winding corridors of the castle. Princess Myrella tagged along with the group shyly. Except for Alicia, everyone was jabbering about how they thought camp was supposed to be fun but so far the most fun part had been the spectacular desserts of the night before.

  “What happened to archery?” asked Kristen.

  “Any pony riding?” asked Gundersnap.

  “And swimming!” Myrella said. “They might think I am just a fraction of a princess in size, but I bet that I can beat any princess in this camp in a swimming race.”

  “You can?” Kristen asked.

  “I think so.”

  “Great. Let’s make a bet.” They paused on the steps to seal their bet with the traditional Royal Princess Oath for competitions. Touching their everyday tiaras, they both recited the words.

  “Cross my crown and hope to die

  If in this contest I deny

  My rightful place as first in sport,

  And may the loser grow a wart!”

  It was a nonsensical little ditty. No one had ever died by losing this kind of competition, nor had anyone grown a wart. But it was still fun and considered good sportsmanship to say the pledge.

  “You know,” said Alicia thoughtfully, “this needlepoint thing is not as boring as you all seem to think.”

  “Why not?” asked Kristen.

  “Because it’s a mystery.” The other three princesses’ eyes brightened as Alicia went on. “We could solve it. A tapestry cannot simply disappear into thin air. This is a big castle. It must be here somewhere.”

  “But vhere should vee begin looking?” Princess Gundersnap said.

  “And how?” asked Princess Myrella.

  “And we must keep it a secret,” said Kristen. “We don’t want everyone looking for it.”

  “Yes,” said Alicia. Then she turned to Princess Myrella. “Princess Myrella, you must not breathe a word of this to your turretmates.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. They hardly speak to me,” the small princess said sadly.

  “They don’t? Vhy not?” Gundersnap asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m small, easily overlooked. And they are very snooty, for the most part. They think I come from a swamp. That’s what they call the Marsh Kingdoms. Princess Zelenka asked to see my feet. She said she had heard a rumor that they were webbed. And Princess Millicent is just so boastful because her father invaded the Fresnian Islands.”

  “Acht!” Princess Gundersnap made a scalding sound in the back of her throat. “Those islands are notting. Empress Mummy wouldn’t touch them with a ten-foot cannon. No natural resources, bugs all over the place, half an island gets washed away every year. Notting to brag about, believe me.”

  “Who’s your fourth turretmate?”

  Myrella made a terrible face. “She is the worst of all. Princess Morwenna. All she does is pray. She does not permit laughter in her presence. And her favorite saint is Saint Rumwald.”

  “Rumwald!” exclaimed Alicia. “The baby saint?”

  Myrella nodded.

  “That is the saddest saint in Christendom,” Kristen said. “He died when he was just three days old.”

  “So you can see,” Myrella continued, “I wouldn’t exactly be telling these turretmates much. And then they are all Crimsons, and I am a Purple.”

  “How did that happen?” Alicia asked. “I thought turretmates were all members of the same team.”

  “Maybe if you’re one-third a princess, they think you’re not quite Purple or Crimson, just some color in between,” Myrella said sadly.

  “Maybe you could change turrets,” Kristen said.

  “It’s against the rules,” Gundersnap said. “Rule three, section two, article one says, ‘No princess is permitted to request a turret change during a session. A request may be made for the next session, but it is rarely granted.’”

  “You’ve read all the rules?” Alicia asked.

  “And memorized them. Empress Mummy will be quizzing me on them in her letters.”

  “Rules are made to be broken!” Kristen said. “Look, Myrella. You’re little—a one-third princess—but look at the upside. That’s a special circumstance. It means you should be able to fit in anywhere.”

  “Well, I guess it’s worth a try,” said Myrella. “It’s very nice of you. I’d much rather have you as turretmates than them.”

  “I’ll get right on it,” said Gundersnap. “Draft a proposal.”

  The other three princesses blinked at one another. Princess Gundersnap was all business. There was no denying that.

  “And I,” Alicia said, “shall put on my thinking tiara to figure out where this tapestry might be.”

  “You have a thinking tiara?” Myrella asked.

  “Yes, pure silver, but quite plain with no diamonds. Lightweight, fits any hairstyle, simple but elegant, no distractions. I can concentrate quite well in it. It’s been in the family for years.”

  “Not from Batwhistle, the pawnbrokers?” asked Myrella.

  “No. All our tiaras are heirlooms. It’s really the best way, Mum says.”

  “Very practical,” said Gundersnap. “I would no more wear another family’s tiara than swap underclothes with them.”

  “Eeeew!” All four princesses wrinkled up their noses in disgust, and then they all burst out laughing.

  Chapter 6

  PRAYERS AND WHISPERS

  When the three princesses returned to the South Turret that night, Gilly Zand the other maids were waiting for them with their freshly pressed nightclothes. They also handed each girl a scroll with the activities list for the next day.

  Alicia unrolled hers and glanced at it with a frown. “A swim test?” she said. “What’s that?”

  “Swim test, weather permitting,” Gilly corrected. She looked out the window at the swirling snow.

  “But I don’t know how to swim,” Alicia said.

  “Nocht, me neither. Can’t swim,” Princess Gundersnap added.

  “Don’t know how to swim?” Princess Kristen looked up from her activity scroll. “Amazing! I could swim before I could walk. All children in the Realm of Rolm know how to swim.”

  “Then you shall probably be put in the advanced group that goes to the lake outside the castle walls and not the moat,” Gilly told her.

  “Moat?” Princess Alicia said in alarm. “Is it clean? Sanitary? I don’t want to come down with anything.”

  “What about crocodiles? We have crocodiles in our moat at home,” Princess Gundersnap said.

  “Oh, how horrible,” Alicia said. Another one of the empress’s ideas, no doubt! she added silently.

  “Don�
�t worry, milady,” reassured Gilly gently. “We have no crocodiles, and we have the cleanest waters in all the kingdom.”

  “Makeup!” Kristen suddenly roared, looking at the list. “What’s this about makeup? I don’t wear makeup! What would I need with rouge?” Indeed, the Princess of the Isles of the Salt Tears seemed rather violently pink in the cheeks.

  “If I may be permitted, Princess Kristen, I think you will find the Duchess of Bagglesnort very informative,” Gilly said. “She is considered a great beauty, and her knowledge of cosmetics is quite profound.”

  “How profound can makeup be?” Kristen scowled.

  Alicia and Gundersnap looked at each other and began to giggle.

  Gilly herself suppressed a smile, but she knew she simply could not laugh in front of the princesses. It would be grounds for dismissal if she were discovered laughing at the expense of one of the counselors, especially the Duchess of Bagglesnort, who was a very mean-spirited lady. If Gilly were to laugh and it got back to the duchess, she would not be acting like a proper lady’s maid and would have to pack her belongings and hit the road.

  “Well, it’s time for your nightly prayers and then to bed, miladies,” she said. “Tomorrow is going to be an exciting day at camp. You’ll need all your energy.”

  “For makeup?” Kristen muttered under her breath.

  “For swimming?” Alicia said anxiously.

  “Well, possibly for chasing after songbirds in the Forest of Chimes—if it is an autumn day,” Gilly told them.

  Each princess bade the others good night and then knelt in prayer by her bedside.

  Kristen prayed for an iceboat, “especially, dear Lord, if winter stays.”

  Alicia prayed that it would continue to be winter for just a little while, so she would not have to take her swim test. “Oh, dear Lord. I’m a little bit homesick. I miss Mum and Pop so much, and I really don’t want to swim in a moat. It sounds so…so…icky.”