The Loveless Princess

by Lilian Bodley

  "Husband? I had heard Prince Everett of Estar… how to put it delicately? Wasn't into women."

  "I don't know what you're talking about." Her heart hammered in her chest, feeling like it was about to jump into her throat.

  He chuckled. "Then perhaps it was just a foolish rumor." He stepped to the edge of the bank, taking his cloak off and bundling it up. He tossed the ball of gold trimmed fabric to her, a faint smirk on his face.

  Anette took it reluctantly. She didn't want to touch it, but it was better than being naked in front of him. Cold water crept up the fabric, weighing it down as she wrapped it around her shoulders and clutched the edges tightly.

  "You don't want to catch a cold in there, my lady," he said, holding his hand out to her. Holding the cloak even tighter around herself, Anette stood, careful to wrap the fabric around her legs and her torso, and climbed out of the creek herself, keeping a safe distance from King Samuel. She called Aurora over to her and stood behind the mare, taking her dress from the saddle.

  "I have to ask you to turn around," she told King Samuel as she unfolded her dress.

  His face darkened slightly. "We're both married here, Princess. There's no shame."

  "That is exactly the reason you should turn away," she snapped.

  He clucked his tongue as he folded his arms and turned around. She waited a moment before dropping his cloak and pulling her dress over her head. As she shifted the cloth around her waist, hands wrapped around her middle. King Samuel buried his nose in her neck. He pressed against her, his breath hot on her skin. She jumped as he touched her, pushing at his arms in an effort to get away. His grip on her was like iron, and it chilled her to the bone.

  "What are you doing?" She squirmed, trying to break his grip.

  "You have no ring."

  She quickly covered her left hand as she continued to struggle. He was far stronger than she was though, and merely held her tighter, his giant hands easily wrapping around her waist. "Perhaps you aren't really a princess. No princess I ever met wore such common clothes." He grabbed her wrist with Falman's bracelet, holding it up and inspecting the band of metal. "Are you lying?"

  "Let go of me," she ordered, barely managing to pull her arm away. He chuckled, his mouth pressing against her shoulder. She gasped in horror and fear, the cold feeling gripping her tighter than King Samuel. "Let me go!"

  "Don't shout, my lady," he said in her ear coaxingly. "You're beautiful, you know. And it has been such a long time since I have been in the company of one so lovely."

  "Aren't you searching for your wife?" she demanded, craning her neck and twisting her head to get away from him.

  He shushed her. "It's just you and me now, my lady."

  Panic rushed through her stronger than ever. She squeezed her eyes shut, her lips moving slightly as she begged silently for King Samuel to let go of her. Please let go of me. I don't want to do this. I don't want anything to do with this.

  His mouth pressed against her shoulder again. Her skin crawled. She felt sick, her saliva so thick she couldn't swallow.

  THUMP!

  He stiffened suddenly and then crumpled. His arms no longer held her in place and his body no longer pressed against hers.

  Sweet clean air flooded her lungs, and she gasped in relief as she stumbled away from him. She turned and opened her eyes, saw King Samuel in a crumpled heap in front of her and an old woman with the largest, reddest nose she had ever seen standing over him. She held a branch in her hands, gripping it tightly with a determined look on her face, like a mother cat protecting her kits.

  "Are you alright, miss?" the woman asked, dropping the branch. It bounced off King Samuel's chest, and his unconscious face twitched.

  Anette breathed out, her whole body shaking. All the strength drained from her knees. She stumbled, still unable to quite catch her breath.

  The woman grabbed her to keep her upright. "You certainly had quite the scare." She helped Anette away from King Samuel.

  "T-Thank you," Anette stammered, hugging herself, rubbing her arms to try and get rid of the crawling sensation on her arms and neck. She felt uncomfortably hot, but she was shaking uncontrollably. "Thank you," she said again.

  The woman hugged her gently. "Don't worry anymore, miss. He got what he deserved. Come with me now. You look like you could use some biscuits with jam."

  *~*~*

  The old woman with the big red nose lived in a spacious little cottage at the edge of the forest, along with two other women. One of the women had a grossly overgrown thumb, and the third had a bottom lip that nearly touched the end of her chin. Anette quickly apologized when she realized she was staring, but the three women laughed it off. They brought her inside, sitting her down at the table and giving her a plate of biscuits as they explained their features. They seemed very good natured about it all, reassuring Anette not to feel as though she had insulted them.

  "It's because we spin so much," one explained, handing her a jar of purple jam. "All the blood goes to our noses and lips and thumbs. Dreadful, really."

  "But we're still invited to weddings," another cackled. "As the bride's three aunts."

  "Ah, weddings. So delightful," the third remarked, sitting down in front of a massive spinning wheel and starting to wind the yarn into a great ball. There were two more spinning wheels next to her that were equally big, and a huge pile of flax sat behind them.

  "Are you soon to marry?" the one with the thumb asked.

  Annette choked on her mouthful of biscuit, coughing loudly. She swallowed painfully, face hot with embarrassment and lack of air. "I'm already married," she said, covering her left hand quickly. She was tired of people assuming that just because she had no ring she was not married. "I am Princess Anette of Thalor, and I am searching for my husband, Prince Everett of Estar."

  The three women stared at her for a long time. The one with the nose stood, going over to the other two, and the three began whispering amongst themselves. Anette sat uncomfortably as they talked, picking at her food and eating small bites this time.

  The one with the lip looked back at Anette, her face twisted suspiciously. "Where is your crown, then?"

  "In my saddle bag," Anette said, and the woman nodded slowly. She disappeared out the door as the other two stood by their spinning wheels, watching Anette carefully as she picked at her biscuit.

  The woman with the lip came back inside shortly, holding the saddle bag. She emptied it carefully on the table, the contents sliding out onto the blue checked tablecloth. Anette's silver crown was at the bottom, along with the gold mirror wrapped in the fabric from her ball gown. Anette picked up her crown and set it onto her head carefully. The familiar weight pressed down on her hair, and she smiled shyly as the three women peered at her.

  "She certainly looks like a princess," the woman with the lip remarked.

  "Silver crown, copper bracelet. All she's missing is gold," the woman with the nose laughed.

  "What's this?" The woman with the thumb asked, picking up the mirror. The cloth slipped off as it left the table, and the women all murmured in appreciation as the gold edges sparkled in the light. The woman with the nose gasped suddenly as she turned the mirror, catching her reflection in the polished glass. She held her hand to her nose carefully, her eyes wide.

  "It was given to me just after I set out to find my husband," Anette explained. "Is there something wrong with it?"

  "What's going on?" the woman with the lip demanded, taking the mirror and looking into it. She turned white as a sheet, feeling her bottom lip, her eyes turning wet and shiny.

  "Are you alright?" Anette asked, growing more and more confused.

  The woman with the thumb took it, frowning into the surface. She raised her hand with the giant thumb, stopping when her hand was reflected in the surface. "It's magic. The reflection removes imperfections," she said, smirking as she lowered her hand. She looked up at Anette. "We will trade you for this." She stood up, crossing over to the spinning wheels. She pick
ed up a pair of gold scissors and returned it to the table, handing them to Anette.

  "They'll cut through anything you need them to," the woman with the big lip offered, taking the mirror and peering into it again. "Oh, I forgot how I looked without this lip."

  "I had forgotten how small my nose was." The woman with the nose grinned, looking over the woman with the lip's shoulder to gaze into the mirror.

  Anette smiled, taking the scissors from the woman with the thumb and touching the tip of them carefully. "Of course." She wrapped them carefully in the cloth that had held the mirror. She didn't mind giving away the mirror. Scissors would be far more useful on her journey.

  "You're a dear," the one with the lip told her, smiling broadly.

  Anette smiled back, the fear from King Samuel and the apprehension of imposing on the three old women fading as they obsessed over their reflections, and she sat quietly, eating biscuits and jam, twisting Falman's bracelet around her wrist.

  "Is that bracelet from your husband?" the woman with the lip asked her suddenly, looking over to her and smiling.

  Anette held up her wrist, inspecting the copper bracelet closely. "No, it's from… someone else. I'm finding Prince Everett for him."

  "You're searching for your husband for someone else?" the woman with the nose clarified, clearly confused.

  Anette nodded shyly. She didn't know if she should tell these three women about Prince Everett and Falman, about how she didn't love Prince Everett or anyone else, and that it was her fault Prince Everett was gone in the first place.

  But the woman with the thumb seemed to sense her apprehension, and refilled Anette's plate with biscuits and brought her a new flavor of jam. "Well, miss, we wish you the best of luck finding the prince. Take your time eating, and when you're ready to set out again, we'll get you some biscuits and jam for the road."

  *~*~*

  Anette was sad to say goodbye to the three women. When the woman with the nose rose from her spinning wheel and began lighting the lanterns and candles around the room, there was a furious, impatient sounding whinny from outside. Aurora stood at the window, her ears twitching and her head dipping up and down.

  Anette stood and apologized to be going so soon. The women hugged her and thanked her for the mirror, and gave her a basket of biscuits and a jar of jam, making sure that she was ready for the journey. They made sure Anette still had the gold scissors and waved goodbye as she climbed onto Aurora's back and continued north.

  "They were nice, weren't they?" Anette asked Aurora as the cottage faded from view in the distance.

  Aurora whinnied, tossing her head.

  "I know, I know. No more delays." Anette sighed, petting her neck. She looked up at the velvety blue sky, dotted with stars like diamonds. "But if I do find Prince Everett and bring him back, then what are we going to do?" She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, holding back tears. "I don't want to continue being married to him. He won't understand still."

  Aurora tossed her head again and picked up her pace, hooves pounding loudly on the dirt as she began to gallop. Anette was forced to hold tightly to the reins as the air pulled at her hair and clothes.

  It wasn't until noon on the second day that Aurora slowed her pace. They were in a forest again, the road barely visible as it was heavily overgrown. Aurora stopped under a great oak tree, pulling off the road, and Anette slid off her back onto shaky legs.

  "Good girl," Anette murmured, petting her neck. Her legs were so stiff she could hardly walk, and her lower back ached from the bumpy ride. "You could have stopped to rest earlier, though." Aurora snorted loudly, blowing hot air at her face, and Anette smiled tiredly.

  She leaned against the oak tree with the basket of biscuits from the three women and ate one. They were cold now, but the mouthful of food helped ease the ache in her stomach, and being able to stretch eased the pain in her legs and back. She sighed contentedly, leaning against the rough bark of the oak and taking another big bite. Aurora pushed her head against Anette's arm.

  "Aurora, no," Anette said, pushing her away. "Let me rest."

  Aurora nickered, pushing again and nearly knocking her over. Anette stood up straight, twisting her spine and stretching as she tried to see why Aurora was being so persistent.

  Across the road, under a maple tree twice as big as the oak she was under, was an old lady. She was tiny, with snow white hair and big eyes. She sat in a rocking chair, surrounded with bolts of fabrics. Aurora pushed Anette forward, and she crossed the road hesitantly to the old lady.

  She looked up as Anette approached, a smile on her old wizened features. "Hello, dear. How are you this fine day?" she asked, her voice cracked but sweet.

  "I am well," Anette responded politely. "And yourself?"

  "Oh, the same as always, I'm afraid." The lady laughed, taking a handful of two different fabrics and comparing them. "Are you on a quest?"

  "Yes, I am. How did you know?"

  "Oh, no one comes up this road anymore, unless they're on a quest. So, are you after the fountain of life? Or perhaps to learn what fear is? If you're searching for six swan princes, I'm afraid you'll want to make your way to the coast, and this road leads away from the sea."

  "None of those. I'm searching for my husband, Prince Everett of Estar."

  The lady pressed a finger to her mouth, frowning thoughtfully. "East of the sun and west of the moon is the usual direction. Or have you tried going north? That is the best direction when searching for lost husbands."

  "North is where I'm headed."

  "Wonderful, then." She picked up a bolt of sheer orange silk and unrolled it slightly, tearing at the fabric with her bare hands.

  "Don't you have any scissors?" Anette asked, unable to stop herself after watching the woman try to rip the fabric apart unsuccessfully.

  The woman blushed, red flushing across her cheeks and nose. "Unfortunately, no," she said bitterly. "I used to have a dagger given to me by a nice young man, but a lad the size of my thumb stole it. And before that, my scissors were taken by a brother and sister with fingers all sticky with sweets. I've had no choice but to try and tear the cloth since then. It's made it so difficult. I have dresses to make, but since I have to tear the cloth instead of cutting it, they fall apart by midnight."

  Anette fingered her pocket, the outline of the golden scissors easy to follow. She wanted to give the old lady the scissors, just so that she wouldn't have to tear the fabric instead of cutting it, but she also wanted to keep the scissors in case a situation like King Samuel happened again. She hated being alone without any way of protecting herself. What if she needed the scissors to save Prince Everett?

  "Miss, if you happened to have a dagger or a knife or a pair of scissors with you, would you accept a trade for it? I'm afraid I don't have much to offer, but I am sure it would be of some use to you."

  Anette's shoulders slumped forward as she pulled the scissors from her pocket. The moment the old lady had said the word 'trade', there was nothing else she could do. The woman from the ball had told her that if she was offered a trade, she was to take it. She had to trade the scissors for whatever the old lady offered, even though it would most likely not be as useful as the scissors.

  She handed the old lady the scissors. The old lady clapped her hands in delight and took them gratefully. "Oh, thank you, miss. These are wonderful!" Beaming, she set the scissors down and stood, stepping up so she was next to Anette. Her head barely reached Anette's shoulder. "And for you, I'll give you something very special. Whenever you speak, flowers and jewels shall fall from your lips."

  Anette frowned. That sounded terrible! Her mouth would be constantly filled with rocks and petals. And what if she were to say something in her sleep?

  The lady laughed softly. "I jest, miss. The last girl I did that for ended up taking a vow of silence. Apparently she nearly choked to death on a pearl… But since that is the only thing I can offer you, choose a few words to say. The words will form something that I promise will
be useful in your quest."

  Anette opened her mouth, but the lady held up her finger to silence her. "You won't choke. I'm sure of it." She frowned briefly before the sweet smile returned. "Are you ready? Think carefully."

  She lowered her hand, her fingers brushing against Anette's chin and neck, and Anette's throat tightened, like there was something forming inside it. She tried to swallow but couldn't.

  "Speak whenever you wish," the woman encouraged.

  What should she say? Was there something that she had to get off her chest, no matter what? She could say she didn't love anyone, demand why no one seemed to understand what it was like to be her, to feel neither love nor desire. Why was it so strange? Why was she this way? Why was love such a thing that it had to affect everyone's lives, whether they wanted it to or not? What was love? Why was it so important? She didn't envy her parents or Prince Everett and Falman. She didn't want what they had. She just wanted them to understand.

  "I don't love anyone. I never will," she said slowly, the words coming out with some difficulty as she felt something forming in her mouth. She couldn't tell what it was, only that it was growing quickly. "I feel no desire. It is just who I am."

  The lady inspected her face carefully. "An interesting statement. Is that all you wish to say?"

  Anette hesitated. "But that doesn't mean I'll deny another's happiness."

  Her mouth filled with something soft and fragrant. She spit it into her hand, gagging a little as it passed her lips. It rolled nearly off her palm, catching against the base of her thumb and stopping. A little bright yellow flower, the size of a small coin. It had felt much bigger in her mouth. It was silken soft against her skin but gleamed in the sunlight. "It's beautiful," she breathed, her mouth feeling strangely empty but her shoulders much lighter.

  The lady peered at the flower. "The words that created it were lovely as well. An excellent philosophy." She frowned. "I feel as though I have heard something similar from another person. A young man, traveling north. He spoke of leaving his family because his father wanted him to marry, but he didn't love the girl."