by Bella Grant
She walked away. He didn’t follow her, but when she looked back, he was gone. She breathed a sigh of relief, and her hand immediately clasped her throat like she couldn’t believe what she had just done. Who talked to the prince like that? At that moment, maybe only her. She quietly celebrated her victory over him, but she had a feeling he would be back. He’d lost, and it had pierced an opening in his inflated ego and had swelled her pride.
She was grinning from ear to ear when she got back to the farm. Nathan, her younger brother, ran out to meet her.
“Hey, what are you still doing up?” she asked as he leapt into her arms.
“I was waiting for you. Papa said you would be down by that tree.”
Elena laughed. “Yeah, I was down by that tree,” she said as she tickled him. He giggled and twisted in her arms, trying to escape the onslaught, until their mother, wondering what the commotion was all about, came to the door.
She was a small woman, and she still wore her apron on which she wiped her hands. “Come on in, you two,” she urged.
“You wanna go in?” Elena asked, as she bit his neck playfully.
“Mama, make her stop,” Nathan shouted as he wriggled some more in Elena’s hands.
“Sorry, can’t help you. You ran out here knowing she was going to do that.”
“Yes. Yes, he did,” Elena paused to reply.
“Stop. Stop!” Nathan cried, his laughter provoking tears.
“Okay,” I’m done,” Elena said as she set him on the ground.
He ran off as soon as he could and crashed into his mother, who still stood in the doorway. She laughed and ruffled the sandy blond hair on his head and went inside. Elena followed them in, tossing the stick aside as she got to the door.
Inside the cozy little house, the smell of freshly baked bread wafted to her nose and made her mouth water. She started for the kitchen, but her mother grabbed her by the arm and stopped her.
“Oh no,” she declared firmly, “not with those shoes or those dirty clothes.”
Elena looked down at herself and was embarrassed at the mess. She had been in the pigs’ sty earlier, and the mud still clung to the tail end of her overalls. Only then was she embarrassed that she had stood before the prince smelling like the pigs themselves.
“Just a little piece,” she teased and pretended to make for the kitchen. That was all the encouragement Nathan needed to jump onto her once more, hoping for a piggy back ride.
“Get out of my living room, missy.” Her mother laughed as her father walked into the room, the towel still draped around his neck as he dried the remaining water from his head.
“What’s going on in here?” he asked, though he wasn’t in the least bit angry.
They were a close family, and they played around with each other all the time. More than anything else, they were happy, which made Elena content in her modest lifestyle.
“Mom said I need a bath, but I don’t see what’s wrong with a little mud,” Elena said plainly, like she really didn’t get what her mother was saying.
“I don’t either, but she sent me packing, too, so I guess you gotta do the same.” He laughed.
“Okay, fine,” Elena relented and pretended to sulk as her shoulders sagged and her lips curled into a pout. When she returned to the living room, washed and smelling like a rose bed, she found her family huddled around the fire playing games.
“Oh, it’s game night, isn’t it?” she said and clicked her tongue. “I almost forgot.” Three pairs of eyes turned to her at once. “What?” Elena shrugged. “I’m not allowed to forget even one time?”
“Not when it was your idea,” her mother replied dryly. “We’re going to start over, so get those players.”
“What are you playing? Oh, parcheesi.” She grinned. “Gimme a sec, I need to get some bread.”
She hurried to the kitchen and returned shortly with a piece of fresh bread in her hand, chewing her first bite. They were half way through the first game when Nathan broke the silence with questions about the prince.
“Are you going to marry Prince Jason, Elena?” he asked, his innocent brown eyes turned to her with concern, like it had been weighing him down all day.
“No!” Elena fired back.
Her father gave her a curious stare when he saw her blushing. “She doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to.” Her father answered Nathan, but he looked at Elena, giving her the answer as well.
“But he is the prince. He can make you,” Nathan responded in his seven-year-old innocence.
“No, he can’t,” her father replied forcefully. “That is for Elena to decide.”
“Don’t worry, little bro,” Elena told Nathan cheerfully. “I’m not going to leave you.”
He grinned and rolled the dice, his worries forgotten for the time being. But his question had acknowledged the elephant in the room, and now that it was out there, it became impossible not to talk about it.
“Did you see him?” her mother asked.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Olivia,” her husband fired. “What does it matter? There are plenty of girls in the village. He can have his pick of them.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Olivia defended. “I merely asked if she’d seen him.”
“I did,” Elena replied, and all eyes were on her again. “Not deliberately. I was under the tree when he walked up.”
“What, just now?” her father wanted to know.
“Yeah,” she told them. “It was no big deal.”
But it was. They had told her she didn’t have to do what she didn’t want to, but who knew for sure the limitations of the order given to the prince? For all they knew, he could swoop in and take any girl he wanted, and they feared it would be her. They had already lost a son when he’d left on his first tour in Afghanistan. They couldn’t bear to lose Elena too. They had been close, Aiden only two years older than her, and his death had crushed her. She hadn’t really gotten over it yet. She still wore his overalls and slept in his bed.
Her mother was quiet for a moment. “What was he like? What did he say?”
Elena sighed. “He was every bit the snob we thought him to be. I don’t know, but it’s like he expected me to bow to him. He was actually surprised that I didn’t fling myself into his arms and beg him to marry me.”
Her parents said nothing, and they didn’t have to. She had a pretty good idea of what they were thinking. By being different she had actually captured the prince’s attention, and if he forced her to marry him, she wouldn’t have much of a choice. Elena focused even more on the parcheesi board as she tried to occupy her mind with the game. She would never marry the prince, and that was all that mattered. Why would he want her, anyway, when he could have anyone else?
“You don’t have to worry about anything,” she tried to reassure them. “I came in here smelling of pig’s feed and mud. I’m sure the prince didn’t find that attractive.”
“Yeah, and who wants a woman with that much mouth on her?” her father smiled. “You would give him hell.”
“That I would,” Elena said proudly and grinned. “Now, can we get back to the game? Nathan is getting bored.” Nathan yawned and rubbed his eyes, punctuating the truth in Elena’s words.
“I think that’s it for the night,” her mother said as she stood and helped him to his feet. “I’ll see you in the morning, sweetie,” she said as she lowered her head and kissed the top of Elena’s.
“Night, Mom,” she smiled.
“I guess my night is over too. Night, kiddo,” her dad told Elena. He leaned over to her and whispered. “I’d never let him marry you if you don’t want to.”
Elena smiled. “I know, Dad,” she said and flung her arms around his neck. “That won’t be a problem.”
But that night, as she lay in her bed, his image haunted her even though she had been so sure earlier that she wanted nothing to do with the prince. She kept seeing his black eyes every time she closed hers, tossing and turning, and against her better judgement, she wondered what he
was doing at that moment. When she fell asleep, he followed her into her dreams.
Jason
Jason didn’t sleep well that night, but not because of the lumps in the bed or the hardness of the pillows, or because of the wind-blown curtains swirling around his face, tickling him from near sleep every so often. Those things were bad enough, but they didn’t keep him awake as much as his reflections of the girl under the tree. He couldn’t get her out of his head. She had stirred his curiosity. Never had he been treated like a common man. He was used to the attention, the applause, people stopping for him, tripping over themselves to get his autograph or picture.
Except for the throng of women and their daughters who greeted him when he got to the house, he could have easily been among strangers who had no idea who he was. It unsettled him, burning the image of how unwelcome he was in this place he was supposed to rule. The people’s indifference towards him was disturbing, and he got an intimate sense of the urgency of the decision to send him to the village. But, if he was so despised, how would he get one of the village girls to marry him? And not just any one—the one who had defied him the most?
He was up at the crack of dawn. He stretched all the kinks from his neck and back, and slid into his white cotton shirt and nylon string pants. He slipped into his sandals, too conscious of walking on the potentially filthy floor, and shuffled to the bathroom. It was tiny, as was the rest of the house, but it sparkled and testified to its recent scrubbing. He wondered which of the village women had taken on that task. Maybe one of the women he had already seen.
When he felt like he was reasonably clean, he ventured outside, looking forward to the women who might bombard him again. He hesitated by the gate, too stiff-necked to go out and meet anyone. He preferred them coming to him, even though he had a lot to lose if he didn’t find a wife. He didn’t anticipate that would be a problem, but he was anxious about who he might be forced to marry. Only one person had stirred him so far, and she was anything but interested.
The morning was warm, and his stomach began to churn with hunger. His first thought was that he should have brought Ellie with him to prepare his meals. But his mother had suggested that he be brought low, that he mingle with the commoners, eat their food, drink their water, live their lives. Only then would they welcome him and give them what they wanted. So, he stood by the wooden gate, waiting for them.
With nothing else to do, he surveyed the village. The houses were small, all with gardens, like they were taken from a children’s storybook. He smiled when he thought about the Three Little Pigs and the straw, stick, and brick houses. There were no brick houses here, and they seemed as vulnerable to his presence as the little pigs’ houses were to the wolf’s blow. The town was still, and he got bored of waiting.
“I am not doing this,” Jason said under his breath and stepped through the gate. If he had to be there, he would interview the girls and choose the ones who suited him. But he had to find the girls first. Maybe he should simply invite himself into their homes.
He walked along the narrow strip of road, observing nothing but rows of houses, all as still as the morning. He was beginning to feel like he was in a ghost town when he passed a house and saw movement. A woman was working in her garden, her back turned, and she was humming.
He stopped and shoved his hands into his pockets. Almost as if by instinct, she turned and placed her hand over her eye to shield from the glare of the sun.
“Oh, how do you do?” she asked with a smile.
“Doing good,” he replied.
She stood, removed the gloves she wore, and walked closer to the metal fencing. “Out so soon?”
He looked around, feeling the awkwardness creep under his skin again. “Uh, I didn’t have much else to do.” He tried not to hold her gaze as she literally stripped him with her eyes. She was an ordinary woman, and not at all someone he would choose.
“Well, that’s understandable,” she replied, and bit her lips as a smile spread across her face. He could tell that he wasn’t going to like what she had to say next. “So, looking for a wife?”
“I am,” he replied casually, hoping she wouldn’t offer herself. She was a decent woman, but he didn’t want to ruin his morning either. “But it seems everyone is still tucked in. How come you are up so early?”
She smiled, and he noticed her yellowing teeth, slightly overshadowed by her dimpled cheek. She used her hand to comb the wisps 0f hair backward that had already begun to stick to her face as the morning grew hotter. “I’m always up. That could come in handy,” she teased and winked.
Jason winced, like she had dealt him a painful blow. “Thank you, but I think I’ll be fine.”
“That’s what you think,” she told him, and turned back to her garden. “You don’t know these women.”
She had barely spoken the words when he heard a commotion behind him. Jason turned to meet his throng of admirers, and his chest and ego swelled the closer they got to him. He noticed how they looked at him like he had done something wrong, and of the sideways glances they flung at the woman in the garden, who was too busy weeding shrubbery to notice them.
“Prince Jason, have you chosen a woman yet?” one woman was presumptuous enough to ask.
He started and rocked his head to the side to see who had asked such a ridiculous question. She wasn’t one of the women he had seen before, but she certainly wasn’t one he hoped to see again. Her hair was matted, and by all indications, she had pulled the mess together at her nape, perhaps to look more decent before appearing before him.
Jason wasn’t impressed. The least they could have done was dress up for him—wear some make-up, a nice dress, polish their nails, something. This brood before him were vultures, ready to swoop him off to their dungeon before he could take them to a better place he was sure they wouldn’t even fit into comfortably.
He held his hands up and addressed them. “Okay, we all know why I am here. Yes, I have to choose a woman from among you, but for God’s sake, at least come to me in a presentable way,” he said with disdain, addressing the woman who had asked the question. “Did that answer your question?”
She nodded and became completely self-conscious at her tattered clothing and shoes that were so worn she could likely feel the paved surface of the streets. She rocked on her heels and moved slowly away from the swelling crowd. As soon as she was gone, the chattering resumed, and Jason heard a voice he was almost sure was in his head—that of a man. He hadn’t spoken to any since he had arrived, and he hoped there was at least one good man he could reason with, preferably one with a beautiful daughter he might consider marrying.
“Prince Jason, would you like to have tea with my family and me?” the voice boomed.
Jason turned to see a well-dressed man standing next to an average-looking girl. He had brown skin, slick hair that curled from being swept back vigorously, and a face that gave Jason hope.
“That’s more like it,” he replied to the man. “I would love to.” That, plus he was really beginning to feel hunger pains in his stomach.
The crowd began to murmur as victory painted itself across the man’s face. “Right this way, Your Grace.” He swept his hand out and bowed slightly.
Jason was in pig heaven again. He had a feeling he would not be marrying this man’s daughter, but if he was hospitable, he would take advantage of it.
“Why didn’t you ask him first?” a girl whispered behind him.
“You could have too,” another replied hotly.
“What if he marries Candace? She isn’t even that pretty!” the first woman said angrily.
Jason enjoyed the bickering, and he grinned as he walked next to the proud father. The crowd followed them, as if they hoped he would change his mind by the time he reached their house. Jason wasn’t accustomed to being ignored, and he welcomed the attention from the villagers.
He continued next to the man who turned every now and again to look at him, perhaps to remind himself that the prince was indeed
coming to his house. Jason didn’t say much along the way, but he did notice of the way windows opened as curious villagers tried to catch a glimpse. Every now and again he waved, and he smiled at the children as they ran out to meet him. The same town that had been dead not so long ago was now teeming with life, and he was loving it.
He was beginning to wonder how far they were going when they came upon a farm detached from the rest of the community. He was intrigued, and he stood by the wood and rope fence as a woman emerged from the house. It was her, the woman from under the tree, and for a reason unbeknown to him, his heart started racing. She was dressed in brown overalls, slinging what looked like a farm tool in her hand. She wore a straw hat that covered up most of her face, but he was sure it was her. She couldn’t have been more unattractive, yet he felt a pull towards her he couldn’t explain.
“Oh, don’t look at that one. You won’t have any luck there,” one of the women volunteered.
“Yes,” the man hastened to say and cleared his throat loudly. “That’s Elena. Poor girl. She doesn’t even have any friends.”
“Is that so?” Jason asked with wonder.
“Oh, come on,” the man pressed and touched Jason’s hand like he wanted to push him along.
Jason looked at the man’s hand like he had a disease and sneered. The man pulled his hand back quickly like he had been burned.
“Prince Jason, there is nothing to see here. Let’s go,” the same woman who had spoken before persisted.
“That’s for me to decide,” he stated. He stood by the fence, watching as she walked over to a wooded area and pulled a makeshift gate towards her. “Where is she going?”
“To feed the pigs,” the man answered all too eagerly, trying desperately to get his attention away from Elena.
He looked around at them, wondering if he had heard right. “She’s going to do what?”
“That’s all she does,” another woman volunteered. “Feed pigs and cows, draw hay, work the land. She won’t have soft hands to caress you, Your Grace.”
“Hmmm,” Jason mused. “I think I want to see.”