Princess without a Palace: A King Thrushbeard Fairy Tale

by Kristen Niedfeldt

“It’s perfect,” Liesel replied, clutching it to her bosom. “Thank you, Roderick. But speaking of your work, shouldn’t you be harvesting right now?”

  “I had to bring a load of vegetables to the market. As I was returning through the marketplace, I passed by Albert walking toward the castle, and I offered to give him a ride. Since I’m here, I had to see you.”

  Liesel felt her cheeks grow warm so she quickly turned away. “Well, now that you’ve seen me, we probably better both return to our work.”

  “In a moment,” he said, pulling her back by her elbow. “First, I want to know what you plan to paint on that,” he said, nodding to the canvas in her arms.

  “I don’t know,” she answered, shrugging her shoulders.

  “Come, surely something sprang to your mind when you saw it.”

  “I have a few ideas, but with only one canvas I’ll need some time to decide.”

  “And you won’t tell me?”

  Liesel smiled. “You can see for yourself when it’s done.”

  She gave him one more smile before she started again to leave to return to the kitchen. However, she suddenly stopped in the doorway when the first few notes of a new melody began to drift down from the open windows up above. Turning toward the ballroom with a grimace, she listened as the familiar song progressed, unable to move as if she had suddenly been cast under a spell.

  “Liesel, what is it?” Roderick asked, stepping closer to her.

  She tried to force a reassuring smile, but it was laced with more sorrow than joy. “They’re playing ‘The Waltz of the Purple Roses,’” she answered in a quiet voice. “It’s my mother’s favorite song. I didn’t know it was played in other kingdoms.”

  She continued to stand there, completely frozen in place, mesmerized by the haunting melody, until Roderick reached for the canvas hanging in her hand against her side. She resisted his tugs and clutched it firmly against her side.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Here, let me take this,” he said as he successfully pulled the canvas from her grip and then set it against a nearby wall.

  “Roderick?” she questioned as she watched him turn back to her with a determined look. When he came to a stop just in front of her, he bowed slightly and then offered her his hand.

  “Would you do me the honor?” he asked with a hint of a smile.

  She shook her head in a definitive fashion. “No, no, I can’t. I think I really should be returning …”

  But Roderick didn’t heed her protests. Instead, he grasped one of her hands and pulled her further into the stables, away from the open doors. “Don’t you miss dancing?”

  “Yes …” she admitted, trying to look anywhere but at his intense gaze. “But right now?” she protested.

  “Don’t you think I’m capable?”

  She finally dared to look up at him again, but she didn’t answer. She didn’t want to offend him. Furthermore, how could she tell him that that wasn’t the only reason she was hesitant?

  But her reluctance didn’t seem to make his determination wane at all. Instead, he simply took both of her hands and pulled her toward him. “I’m a minstrel, Liesel,” he reminded her. “I am no stranger to royal courts.”

  She looked around the empty stables, desperately searching for an escape. “But what if someone sees?”

  He pulled her closer and simply replied, “Let them.”

  Suddenly breathless, she couldn’t muster the will to escape anymore. Instead, she settled into his strong arms as he began to lead her through the familiar steps of the song.

  As the melody progressed, she was astonished by the skill with which he led her through all of the various patterns of steps. And while her heart seemed to keep double time with the song and she struggled to remember each of the sequences, Roderick appeared perfectly composed and never missed a step.

  Alarms rang in her ears, and she frantically tried to recall how she had ever let this happen. How had their casual conversation so quickly evolved into a dance?

  He looked down at her with such an unrelenting stare, she couldn’t look away. Her eyes searched his, and panic rose within her as she realized she could no longer pretend otherwise: her heart was undoubtedly in trouble.

  When the last notes of the song finally faded into silence, she quickly attempted to pull away, but Roderick refused to release her.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’ve been away too long. I have to return. Hilda needs me,” she pleaded.

  A new song began to play and Roderick entreated, “Just one more dance.”

  But Liesel firmly shook her head. “No, Roderick. Please, I can’t.”

  She tugged on her hands again, and this time Roderick released her.

  She opened her mouth, wanting to offer some sort of explanation, but she quickly closed it again. With the way she was feeling, she didn’t trust herself not to say anything she might soon regret.

  “Liesel-”

  “I have to go, Roderick,” she said, cutting his words short. She looked at him regretfully, and then quickly fled toward the exit, only slowing to retrieve her small canvas and what was left of the milk beside the door. She clutched them in her trembling hands and was almost completely away, when she dared to glance back one more time.

  Immediately, she wished she hadn’t.

  Roderick hadn't moved at all, but was still standing exactly where she had left him, studying her with an unnerving expression.

  She desperately tried to erase the memory of that look from her mind as she scrambled up the path toward the kitchen, but trying to do so only seemed to burn his image into her mind even more.

  When she arrived at the kitchen, she didn’t immediately enter through the door, but instead sank down to rest on the steps for a moment so she could collect herself before facing Hilda and Albert again. She clutched the canvas in her hand against her chest, but unfortunately, it did little to calm her racing heart.

  Dancing had been such a mistake!

  Closing her eyes, she let out a barely-audible whimper as she leaned over to rest her forehead against her knees in despair.

  She almost wished she hadn’t kept her promise to Albert to stay. If only she had been able to leave with Prince Cornelius, she could have avoided this altogether. She could have avoided this pounding ache in her heart.

  But thinking on such wishes was useless.

  She had stayed and she still had a little less than a week left.

  She just hoped her heart would be able to endure it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The next day, Liesel awoke with a clear resolution branded in her mind: she couldn’t spend time alone with Roderick anymore.

  It was the best way she could think of to protect her heart and survive the remainder of her time in Brenhausen until Prince Cornelius returned for her.

  She would just have to do her best to avoid him.

  It seemed like a simple enough solution, but she soon realized it was not so easily attained.

  At least without pushing herself to the point of utter exhaustion.

  She began her day uncharacteristically early at the castle, arriving even before Hilda, and she continued to work late until the sky was dark again and the stars had begun to emerge.

  When she finally left the castle’s kitchen to return home, Hilda praised her for her dedication, and Liesel didn’t correct her.

  She was fine if Hilda thought she was only eager to help make the princess’s ball as perfectly wonderful as possible. It was a much simpler reason than the truth.

  When Liesel arrived home to her pile of straw in Maria’s stables, she collapsed with a groan. She was exhausted and she dreaded having to repeat the same schedule the next day. But then she reminded herself this routine wouldn’t last forever. She would be free in just a few days. She just needed to survive until then.

  Tucking her feet beneath her skirt, she pulled out her jar and nibbled on a piece of ham, savoring its incredible flavor. Hild
a might be a strict mistress, she noted, but at least she was a fabulous cook.

  A small pile of straw stirred beside her, and Liesel poked it with one of the sticks she always kept beside her bed. Out ran a little mouse that stopped just a couple feet away from her, and then stared back at her with large, black eyes. Liesel stared back at the mouse for several seconds before she finally tore off a small chunk of her ham and threw it toward the little creature. The tiny rodent quickly retrieved it and then disappeared behind a nearby wooden beam.

  Liesel realized the lonely, little mouse was most likely hungry too. She regretted never recognizing that before.

  When she had just finished her supper, she heard the back door of Maria’s hut creak open. Springing to her feet, she quickly extinguished her candle across the room and then dove back into her straw bed. She nestled her face into her blankets and then held her breath as she listened as someone entered the barn.

  “Liesel?” Roderick called out quietly. “Liesel?”

  She didn’t answer, but instead focused on trying to regulate her breathing to sound as if she were asleep. She prayed he would leave, but her prayers were in vain. Her heart pounded as she listened to him approach and then kneel beside her.

  “Liesel?” he whispered one more time, but she didn’t move.

  When he was still at her side several seconds later, she wondered if he was about to confront her about her poor performing skills, but then she only felt him pick up one of the blankets that was lying beside her. Gently, he then tucked the blanket about her shoulders before he stood again and quietly retreated from the barn.

  She let out a sigh when the door finally closed, and pressed her blankets against her face. Inside, she could feel her resolution crumbling and she didn’t know what to do about it.

  She curled into her makeshift bed and squeezed her eyes shut to try to contain the tears that threatened to fall.

  Why did he have to be so perfect?

  “Liesel, why are you scrubbing the floors in here?” Hilda questioned from the doorway the next day.

  Glancing up, Liesel dragged her wrist across her forehead to sweep her unruly hair from her face, and then shrugged. “I finished my chores early, and couldn’t see anything else that needed to be done.”

  “Why don’t you just go home? You’ve been keeping such long hours these last couple days, I’m sure you need some rest by now.”

  Liesel shook her head. “No, no, I promised Albert I’d help you, and I want to do everything I can to keep that promise.”

  Hilda surveyed the room with her hands on her hips. “But we’re not planning on eating off of the floor. You don’t need to clean it. Especially this floor. Before you arrived, this room was just used as a pantry and for storage. No one cares what it looks like.”

  “My productivity increases in clean spaces,” Liesel contended. “I just have a little more to scrub. But if you need me to do something else for you, I can stop.”

  “I can’t think of anything else. You’ve already done the chores I had appointed for you for the next two days. In all my years, I’ve never seen such dedication.”

  Liesel scrubbed the floor with renewed vigor. “I’m sure your princess deserves nothing less. I just want to do my part to make her celebration perfect.”

  “She is a gem,” Hilda replied warmly.

  “What exactly is the princess celebrating?” Liesel asked, pausing to look up at the old woman again.

  “Her return. The princess has been away for quite a while, but she is finally coming home. We couldn’t be more thrilled. She is lovely. Simply lovely. You’ll see for yourself at the ball.”

  “I can hardly wait.”

  The old woman moved to return to the kitchen, but Liesel stopped her with one more question.

  “Where has the princess been?”

  “I’m not exactly sure. I just know she is attending to a few matters of state for her father.”

  “I see.”

  “Any more questions?”

  Liesel shook her head. “No, not yet, at least.”

  Hilda nodded. “Then I’ll return to overseeing the kitchen. I’ll have a servant bring you a basket of vegetables to peel in just a short while.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate the work.”

  Hilda paused, looking like she wanted to say something more, but then decided against it. After the old woman turned away, Liesel listened to her retreating steps and then let out a sigh, relieved to be alone again.

  She leaned against the leg of a table and looked down at her sore, tired hands. Swollen from water and calloused from work, she hardly recognized them anymore. How they had changed in the last three weeks since the day she had injured them while spinning! She couldn’t honestly say she didn’t miss the smooth, delicate hands she had lost, but each callous, each rough spot was a trophy of sorts to her now. She prided herself in the fact that she had earned every one of them from hard work. And now when she looked at them, she felt like she was truly capable of doing anything.

  A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and she turned, expecting to see a servant with the vegetables Hilda had promised. But it was only a little maid.

  “Excuse me, miss,” the young scullery maid greeted from the doorway. “A message was just delivered at the rear door for you.”

  Liesel dried her hands against her apron and then stood to accept it. Her heart began to race when she recognized Prince Cornelius’s familiar wax seal stamped across the back. She had waited over a week to hear back from him, and now she could hardly wait to see what was inside.

  The young maid lingered, testing Liesel’s self-control as she wanted nothing more than to rip it right open and scour the contents without delay. But as she had no desire to begin any rumors, she resolved to wait until she had complete privacy again.

  “Thank you,” Liesel said with a quick smile, looking to the door, hinting that the young maid should leave. The young girl followed her gaze and after a brief pause, reluctantly left to return to her previous work in the kitchen, exiting the door with a barely discernible sigh.

  Liesel walked to the far side of the room, leaned back against the cold stone wall, and read the letter by the light of the window.

  Dearest Princess,

  I can’t properly relay the keen disappointment I felt when I read your message and learned you had decided to stay. But rest assured I will do as you asked and return for you. As providence would have it, I have actually been invited to attend a ball at King Carl’s castle at the appointed time you wish to leave. Perhaps I might be fortunate enough to persuade you to stay a little longer and attend as my guest? I shall try to convince you to do so, but as always, I will be happy to do whatever you inevitably wish for me to do.

  Forever Your Devoted,

  Prince Cornelius.

  Liesel cringed as she reread the part about the ball. She hoped he was in earnest in his pronouncement that he would truly heed her wishes, because she had absolutely no desire at all to attend. She had only promised to help Hilda prepare for the grand event and as soon as it started, she was determined to be on her way.

  She folded the letter and tucked it away in her apron pocket next to her collection of food scraps. Retrieving a piece of bread, she nibbled on it as she walked back to her wash water and scrub brush lying on the floor. After plopping the remainder of the roll in her mouth, she knelt back down, and had just commenced scrubbing again, when someone tapped on the window.

  She looked up expecting to see that someone had only bumped into the glass as they were passing by, but a man wearing a large-brimmed hat was standing there looking in.

  She squinted, trying to see his features better through the wavy glass, but she couldn’t tell who it was hiding under such a large hat until he smiled. Instantly, she recognized him then. Roderick’s smile was unforgettable.

  He waved for her to join him outside, but she shook her head no. He tried again, but she only shook her head more firmly.

  His sm
ile broadened, and Liesel would have been irked, but as she surmised he was probably walking toward the kitchen door, Liesel turned back to her scrubbing with a smirk. Hilda would surely send him on his way without delay since there was undoubtedly a great deal left to do with the ball only being four days away.

  However, it seemed like only seconds had passed before Hilda leaned into the room and announced, “It’s time for you to go home, Liesel.”

  “I beg your pardon!”

  “Storm clouds are threatening outside and I don’t want you to get caught in the rain and fall ill.”

  How could she explain to the old woman that the storm clouds were the least of her worries outside?

  She couldn’t, so she argued instead, “But what about the vegetables you wanted me to peel?”

  “The other servants can manage it.”

  “But, but …” Liesel stammered, frantic to escape her predicament.

  “I won’t hear any arguments. You have a long way to travel, and your betrothed is here waiting for you.”

  “You can tell him I have a few more things I want to do still, so I’ll make my way back to the hut on my own when I am done.”

  “I won’t hear of such a thing. He looks like he came a long way to come to collect you, so away you’ll go, and you’ll go now.”

  Liesel scowled, but Hilda only pointed out the door. The stubborn woman couldn’t be budged.

  “Hilda, to be blunt, I would rather stay here.”

  “And forgo a walk with your betrothed? I don’t believe it. Such a notion is highly irregular. Don’t let your promise to my Albert keep you here.”

  “But truly, I would rather help you.”

  “Nonsense. There’s nothing more for you to do here. It looks like you’re even about done with the floor. Now, out with you. Your departure will give me some more time to gather a suitable list of chores for you to do tomorrow.”

  Liesel groaned. She was trapped.

  “Here, let me help you up,” Hilda said, stepping forward and offering Liesel her arm.

  Liesel was surprised by the elderly woman’s strength as she yanked Liesel to her feet. Hilda then maintained her strong grip on Liesel’s arm and walked with her through the kitchen. She must have feared she would bolt for she didn’t release her until they had safely exited the rear door and stepped outside.