Princess without a Palace: A King Thrushbeard Fairy Tale

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Princess without a Palace: A King Thrushbeard Fairy Tale Page 16

by Kristen Niedfeldt


  They walked in silence, neither of them disturbing the stillness of the sleeping world around them. It took longer than expected before the city came into view. The fog rested over it like a blanket, but eventually she was able to detect the silhouette of the slumbering buildings resting in the shadows of King Thrushbeard’s mighty castle.

  The rain that had fallen steadily through the night had almost disappeared, but every now and then a raindrop or two would splash in nearby puddles. However, as they began to walk through the cobblestone streets of the city, the foggy mist transformed into a steady drizzle, and Liesel released Roderick’s arm to pull her shawl more tightly around her.

  “You must be freezing,” Roderick observed, looking down at her with apparent concern.

  Indeed, she did long for a cloak, but she could hardly complain when Roderick was without a coat himself. It was a keen reminder of just how poor they really were. If she accepted him, she was sure their savings jar would be depleted by buying the necessities to survive winter before they even had a chance to discuss building their own home. Surely Roderick truly hadn’t thought his proposal through or he would have known their future was an impossible dream.

  “Here,” Roderick said, turning toward her and plopping his large hat on her head. “You should take this.”

  “I don’t want your ridiculous hat,” she protested, reaching up to remove it. “I’ll drown in it.”

  “Walking in the rain would drown you long before a hat ever would.”

  She waved his argument aside and tried to return it to him, but he put it right back on her head.

  “Why do you care if you look ridiculous? Who is there to see you in it?” he argued quietly, motioning toward the slumbering houses lining the lane. “We are the only ones foolhardy enough to be out so early.”

  She looked up at him with a scowl, but with her face hidden in the shadows of the monstrous hat, she doubted he actually saw it. Fortunately, she had given him the same look enough times over the course of the last few weeks that she was certain he would be able to imagine it on his own by now.

  He only brushed off her scowl with a laugh and reached an arm around her shoulders to pull her close to his side.

  Chills swept through her, and even though she tried to attribute the chills to the frigid air, she knew it wasn’t true. Her heart quickened again and she contemplated pulling away, but she couldn’t bring herself to reject the much-needed warmth.

  She tilted her head up a notch and secretly peered over at Roderick, studying his strong profile as they continued on their way up the stone path toward the castle. He seemed so confident, so sure that they could forge a happy life together. She wished she could be so sure one way or the other. On one hand, he was a peasant. A man she would have obviously never considered as a princess, even if she hadn’t been so opposed to marriage. But even though he was her equal now, she still struggled with the idea of permanently entwining her fate with his humble prospects. And as a woman of honor, she knew she couldn’t accept him until she was ready to put her past life completely behind her and be willing to forever remain by his side through all of the many trials that would surely plague their life.

  But on the other hand, when he held her hand or held her close like he did now, she couldn’t help but wonder if such a hard life would be worth it.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when Roderick glanced her way and caught her looking at him. The corner of his mouth turned up in a questioning smile, but she quickly looked away.

  Her heart seemed to trip over itself inside her chest and she silently commanded it to find its steady beat again. Where had its discipline fled? Her heart had been so reliable before, but it seemed that ever since she had met Roderick, she had lost all control over it.

  Eager to not disrupt her heartrate again, she didn’t risk another glance his way until they had finally reached the kitchen door.

  Turning to face him, she pulled off the hat and shook it to rid it of all the water that had pooled along its wide brim.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to keep it so you can wear it when you walk home?” he asked as she handed the hat to him.

  “Definitely. I wore it this morning because you made me, but I’ll never wear it again.”

  He laughed, but she noticed he didn’t seem all that eager to wear the hat either but instead nervously shifted the hat in his hands.

  After an awkward pause she pointed toward the kitchen door. “I probably should go inside and get a fire started.”

  “Do you need help?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’ll be just fine. Goodbye, Roderick.”

  “Goodbye, Liesel,” he returned. He then captured her hand and pulled her forward before bending down to give her a quick kiss on her cheek. She knew she really shouldn’t have been surprised by the gesture, but she was sure she looked slightly stunned when he pulled back. “I’ll look forward to seeing you tonight. Perhaps you’ll let me watch you paint that canvas I gave you?”

  “I still haven’t decided what I want to paint.”

  “Then it’s fortunate you still have the rest of the day to decide,” he answered with a wink.

  He then finally placed his large hat on his head, nodded to her and turned to begin his retreat through the rain.

  She moved to go inside, but stopped when her hand brushed against something in her pocket. She looked down and saw a single, small white flower resting in her food collection jar. She withdrew it and looked back toward Roderick, barely finding his shrinking silhouette through the thick fog.

  She held the flower to her chest and leaned against the doorway as she watched him until he had completely disappeared from sight.

  She shook her head and sighed.

  Roderick was nothing like she had ever planned, but in many ways, she had to admit, he was better than she could have ever dreamed.

  Maria dropped the curtain and walked away from the window. What was Roderick doing with Liesel at such an early hour? The night was only half through!

  She clenched her fists and paced around the hut. She was exhausted, but she couldn’t go back to bed. Not now. Not when she knew her foolish brother needed her more than ever.

  Despite his claims to the contrary, it was perfectly obvious the conniving princess had successfully ensnared him. There could be no other explanation for his unusual behavior. She had seen Roderick falling for Liesel by degrees, but she had always hoped he would be able to catch himself in time. Now she just hoped it wasn’t already too late. She couldn’t let him continue on such a path when she knew it would ruin him! Roderick had always been a hard-working, kind, and generous person. Liesel was a spoiled princess who would surely leach everything she could from him. The princess didn’t deserve to have her self-centered life rewarded with a marriage to the best person Maria had ever known. And Roderick didn’t deserve such a fate either.

  But what could she do about it?

  She bit her lip as an idea sprang to her mind. There was one person she could possibly turn to, but she knew it would make Roderick furious if she did. Furthermore, when he found out about it, and she knew he inevitably would, she doubted he would ever forgive her for it.

  But if she didn’t at least try to save him, she knew she would never be able to forgive herself.

  She hesitated for just a moment and then sat down at her desk and lit a candle. She dipped her quill in her inkwell, but then paused as she questioned her decision one more time.

  A few seconds passed and then she nodded her head. Yes, she had to write the letter. It was the right thing to do.

  She wrote the greeting, but looked over the scrawled words with a furrowed brow.

  “Dear Father,” it read. She bit her lip again as she worried how her message would be received when she hadn’t spoken to either of her parents in almost a year. But since she knew her father was the only person in the world who wielded any power over her brother, she had to have faith her letter would move him to action.

&nbs
p; Rallying her courage, she hastily scratched out the rest of the letter and then reread the message several times before she folded the parchment and sealed it closed.

  Relieved to finally have a plan, she then extinguished the candle and with nothing else to do, returned to her bed. She was surprised by the peace she felt and quickly drifted back to sleep with the faintest of smiles gracing her lips.

  Yes, she was sure of it, she drowsily assured herself one last time. Her father would know what to do.

  Later that day, Hilda marched into Liesel’s small room and thrust a tiny piece of cake toward her.

  “Taste it,” the old woman ordered.

  Liesel’s brows rose at the woman’s strange request, but she obediently accepted the morsel and popped it into her mouth. Her face immediately transformed into a grimace. “That’s disgusting,” she said, spitting it out into a nearby napkin. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “I think you forgot the sugar,” Hilda answered with her hands on her hips. “You’re lucky I had to skim off the top of the cake to level it or we wouldn’t have realized your mistake until it was served at the ball.”

  Liesel buried her face in her hands and shook her head. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know how I forgot that.”

  The old woman folded her arms and looked at her with a mixture of sternness and concern. “You seem like your head is somewhere else today. Is anything wrong?”

  “No … yes … no …” Liesel finally looked up at her and honestly answered with a shrug, “I don’t know.”

  “Do you want to tell me about it?”

  “No,” Liesel answered, but her uncertainty must have been apparent.

  “Are you sure? I don’t think I can afford for you to ruin another cake today.”

  Liesel’s shoulders slumped with a sigh. She looked down and fiddled with her apron as she tried to decide whether or not to say anything about her current dilemma.

  “Yes?” Hilda prodded, her patience wearing thin.

  Liesel looked up and timidly began, “You and Albert have both spent time working in the castle … you as a cook, and Albert as a soldier … Do you ever wish you could be one of the royal members living in the castle, instead of just serving them?”

  “I’d be lying if I denied it. But I’m happy where I am.”

  Liesel nodded and then quietly asked, “Are you happy with Albert?”

  “I wouldn’t trade him for anything …” Hilda responded in a tone only a woman who had loved for decades could match. “Not even for a chance to live in this castle,” she added, her eyes twinkling.

  Liesel smiled and answered softly, “Thank you, Hilda.”

  “Strange questions … But if that is all you want to ask, then I’ll be returning to the kitchen,” Hilda responded, moving toward the door.

  Liesel reached to retrieve the bowl of unfinished cake batter at her side and assured, “And I promise I won’t ruin any more cakes.”

  “See that you don’t,” the old woman warned, looking back to point at her briefly. “I can’t have my kitchen disgraced.”

  Liesel nodded and made sure she added the sugar to the bowl as soon as Hilda had exited the room. She didn’t want to chance making the same mistake again.

  Over the course of the afternoon, Hilda’s words about not trading Albert for anything repeated over and over again in her mind as she continued mixing batters for baking. Liesel tried to think if there was anything she could positively say she would rather have than Roderick … But by the time it was dark and she began walking home, she still hadn’t thought of anything.

  When Liesel returned to the barn later that night, she couldn’t deny feeling a twinge of disappointment that Roderick wasn’t already there waiting for her. After all, she was sure he couldn’t still be harvesting when it was so dark outside.

  Releasing a sigh, she walked over to one of the barn’s shuttered windows, and even though the air was frightfully chilly, she pushed the shutters open so the light from inside the barn could be easily seen from the hut. Perhaps Roderick was waiting to come to the barn until he was certain she was there.

  She then turned toward her corner and rifled through the straw until she had unearthed the canvas Roderick had gifted her. Leaning back against the blankets of her bed, she listened to the horses chomp on their evening meal while she tried to decide what she should paint.

  After at least ten minutes had passed and Roderick had still not arrived, she set the canvas aside and tried to busy herself arranging her paints. But even after the paints had been categorically lined up in several different ways, Roderick was still absent and Liesel frowned. She wondered what could possibly be keeping him.

  Pushing herself to her feet and grabbing her shawl, she decided she would just march over to the hut right then and find out. There was nothing to be gained by remaining alone in the barn.

  She knocked on the door to announce her presence and then walked inside.

  Her eyes quickly scanned the room, but the only person she found was Maria folding laundry near the fire.

  “Yes,” Maria prompted in her haughty way.

  Liesel clasped her hands tightly in front of her and forced a smile. “Have you seen Roderick tonight? I expected to see him by now.”

  Maria set the shirt she was folding back down on her lap and looked at Liesel with an uncharacteristic amount of sympathy. “Didn’t he tell you? I suppose he must have completely forgotten he had anything planned with you. He left early this afternoon,” she explained and then returned to her folding.

  “Where did he go?” Liesel asked, feeling panic rise inside. Such behavior was quite out of character for Roderick. “Is anything wrong?”

  “A dam broke in the northern part of the kingdom,” Maria answered, briefly looking up. “I suppose there’s just been too much rain these last few days for the dam to withstand it all. Roderick was summoned to help.”

  “I heard about that at the castle … But I didn’t realize Roderick would need to go.”

  Maria shrugged one of her thin shoulders. “There aren’t many people in the northern part of the kingdom. I’m not surprised at all that he was drafted to help.” Silence ensued and Maria reached for a paper lying nearby. “If you don’t believe me, you are more than welcome to read the letter he left me.”

  “He wrote you?” Liesel asked, blurting the question more out of surprise by her own lack of correspondence.

  “Yes, I was attending to a few errands when his summons came, but he left a letter for me so I would know where he had gone,” Maria replied before her face transformed into a look of sympathy again. “Oh … Did he not write you?”

  “I … I suppose I haven’t really checked my belongings to see …”

  “There now,” Maria replied with a smile. “I’m sure if he cared to let you know, there is a letter waiting for you in the barn.”

  Liesel’s eyes narrowed briefly, but she quickly concealed the look. She did not appreciate Maria’s implied doubts of Roderick’s devotion to her, but since that was really none of Maria’s concern, she didn’t want to give her the gratification of a reaction.

  Ready to escape, she took a step back toward the door and excused herself, “I apologize for imposing on your quiet evening.”

  “Not at all,” Maria replied with a smile. “I’m glad I could be of service to you.”

  Liesel nodded and then walked out into the cold, dark night. The wind caused the door to slam behind her more forcefully than she intended, and the startling sound made her jump. Securing her shawl more tightly around her shoulders, she then stopped to glance back at the hut one more time, unable to deny a troubling warning brewing within her.

  She tried to bury the feeling, but couldn’t.

  Maria’s smile would haunt her dreams that night. She was sure of it. The woman’s charade of kindness felt even more threatening than her customary hostility.

  But even more troubling was Roderick’s sudden disappearance. She couldn’t believe that he would hav
e left without at least a small note. Not when he claimed to care for her as he had.

  Maria leapt in her seat when her door slammed shut. Stifling a growl, she forced herself to inhale several deep, calming breaths while she listened until she was sure she had heard the barn door finally open and close in the distance.

  Piling her folding into the basket at her feet, she then walked to the window and lifted a corner of the curtain so she could peer out into the night without detection. She stood there, transfixed, as she watched Liesel walk back and forth throughout the barn, leaving no straw unturned. After she had seen enough of the princess’s futile efforts, she let the curtain fall and turned back to gather her basket of laundry.

  She had much to do this night and couldn’t afford to spend time worrying over Liesel when there was a significant amount of packing that needed to be done. Such energies would be wasted. Liesel would flee from her life soon enough if everything went according to plan.

  Maria clasped her hands together and looked around the room, contemplating where she should start the great gathering of her belongings, but when her eyes passed over the fire, her gaze swung back to the ashes smoldering under the flames, and she couldn’t help but smirk.

  Liesel could search the barn as long as she wanted, but she was never going to find the letter Roderick had left her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  For the first time in a week, Liesel awoke the next morning after the sun. Light filtered through the cracks in the wooden slats of the barn and Liesel rubbed her eyes to chase away the last traces of sleep. She pushed herself onto her elbows and glanced around, wondering how much of the morning she had wasted away sleeping.

  If she hadn’t already devoted so many hours to working in the kitchen this week, she would have felt frantic waking up so late in the morning. But after staying awake through most of the night, she was grateful for the rest. And she was pretty certain Hilda would understand.

 

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