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.
Chapter Four
Back 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.
&
nbsp; “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.
Chapter Five
The next few days were quiet and awkward in the castle. It was difficult for Liesel to balance giving her father enough space to allow his anger to cool while participating in just enough of the courtly activities to avoid angering him further.
And while the king and princess constantly skirted around each other in a stiff and stifled manner, the queen seemed to always be everywhere at once, working to try to mend and pull the damaged threads of the family fabric back together.
After four such days had passed, the queen called the family into the great hall for an afternoon of fine dining and soft music.
The king ate great quantities of the succulent meats in silence. Liesel merely pushed the food back and forth across her plate. Occasionally she would poke at something for good measure. The queen exerted all of her energies trying in vain to engage anyone other than just Adelaide into her conversation.
Right when the queen looked ready to abandon her hopes of gaining any traction in forging a reconciliation between her husband and daughter, a servant appeared in the doorway.
“There’s a traveling minstrel at the gate requesting admittance. Should I let him in?”
“Good heavens, yes,” the queen replied strongly. Regaining her usual composure, she then added in a more gentle tone, “That would be lovely. Please escort him in.”
A moment later, the servant returned with the minstrel. The man paused at the threshold with his hat and instrument clutched in his hands with his head humbly bowed.
“Well, are you or aren’t you going to come in?” the king questioned irritably.
The servant nudged the man forward and the minstrel hustled across the hall to stand before the king.
When he raised his eyes to greet the king, Liesel’s curiosity was piqued. He certainly didn’t have the usual looks of a timid man.
Princess without a Palace: A King Thrushbeard Fairy Tale Page 3