by Andersen,Kai
“What kingdom?” The queen’s voice was hard.
“With all due respect, Your Majesty, I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Stepmother, she’s our guest.” What the prince didn’t say was that we don’t interrogate guests this way.
The queen ignored him and repeated her question. “Can’t or won’t?”
“You can’t name it because it doesn’t exist!” PB’s voice was triumphant. “I knew you weren’t a princess!”
Serena shrugged. Let them think what they would. If they didn’t believe her, then so much the better.
Her silence must have goaded PB, for she continued her tirade. “If you’re a princess, where are your servants, your ladies-in-waiting? Why are you traveling alone?”
“I command you, Serena, tell us where you’re from.”
“If it pleases Your Majesty, where am I now?”
The queen’s hand slammed down on the table, causing the plates to rattle. Serena jumped. “You dare ignore my question!”
“I never ignored your question, Your Majesty,” Serena said quietly. “I’ve said that I can’t give you the answer you want.” She knew she was a picture of calm and composure; it was, after all, a technique she had perfected years ago. Inwardly though, she was trembling and so, so afraid. She couldn’t believe her audacity in defying a queen, no matter that she wasn’t her queen, but she just couldn’t tell them what they wanted to know. If she did, all would be lost.
The queen gave a terrifying frown at her answer, hoping to intimidate her into submission, no doubt. Serena wondered who was going to rescue her from this impasse when the big golden-haired man sitting beside the prince suddenly spoke up. “You’re in Mithirien.”
From the uncomfortable way he’s been behaving since she’d joined them, Serena surmised he must not be part of the royal family. Why then would he merit a seat at the table? She had shrugged the thought off then, as it had nothing to do with her. Now, she brightened at his words. “Oh. I hadn’t realized that I had already crossed the border of Rikandia.”
“The great forest of Repling sits on the borders of our kingdoms,” the prince explained.
Her innate good manners left her no choice but to look at him. Her eyes helplessly traced the lines of his face, the curve of his jaw and the determined tilt of his chin.
Something in his voice gave her pause though. It wasn’t as warm as before. Even his eyes had turned a trifle chilly.
She dragged her gaze away when the queen spoke. “This mystery is making me lose my appetite.” Her fork clattered on the plate.
Serena was reminded of her own unappeased hunger. Her stomach rumbled. She flushed, hoping it wasn’t loud enough to be heard by the others.
“If you wish to stay the night, Serena, you’d better tell us who you really are and where you come from. We don’t entertain spies here.”
Serena’s eyes widened. Her heart fluttered in panic. All thoughts of the handsome prince and filling her stomach flew from her head. She had no wish to be out in the storm again, much less be executed for alleged espionage activities. “Oh, no, Your Majesty, I’m not a spy. I’m truly what I say I am -- a princess.”
“If you’re a princess,” the queen said, her lips drawing into a stern line as she pulled on her queenly visage, “why are you here seeking shelter and not sleeping snugly in your princess’s chamber?”
“In truth, Your Majesty ... I’m running away from my father.”
“Running away!” PB’s huge eyes stared at her. “You’re a slave.”
“No, I’m a princess.” Serena licked her lips. There was no help for it. She had to tell them something. “My father betrothed me to the old king of a neighboring kingdom in order to cement an alliance. I couldn’t bear such a marriage, so I ran away. Alone. I intended to reach my aunt in Va -- in another kingdom within two weeks where I would have her husband’s protection. I’ve been traveling on my horse for some time now. The storm came upon me just as I entered the forest. It was only luck that I saw the lights blazing from this lodge, and so I made my way here.”
“Lies!”
“No --” Serena leaned away from the menacing look in PB’s eyes.
“All right,” the queen interjected smoothly, if a little grudgingly, “your story is so far-fetched it has a sound of truth to it. If you don’t really want to name your kingdom, then I suppose you’ve a right to your privacy.”
“Mother!”
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Serena said over PB’s outraged cry. She breathed a sigh of relief and felt the tension drain from her shoulders. It was over. She was safe. She didn’t know why the queen suddenly changed her mind, but Serena wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. “I assure you, I’m not a spy.”
“I believe you.” The queen smiled at her, and then turned to encompass everyone at the table. “Now, shall we continue to enjoy this lovely feast? Mrs. Goode-Heart would be dismayed if we don’t do justice to her cooking.”
Serena could have clapped her hands in joy and immediately dug into the dishes that were displayed in front of her. But she remembered her mother’s oft-repeated admonition in time. Thus, it was with princessly decorum that she daintily reached for the serving fork and knife and cut a small portion of the lamb chops.
“Mo-ther ...” PB protested.
“Oh, hush, Giselda.”
So that’s her name.
The queen reached for her glass. “Don’t mind her, Serena. She’s just so spoiled, you know, growing up as the only princess in the palace. Everyone just adored her. What about you? Did everyone at home spoil you too?”
Serena swallowed the lamb chop she had been chewing. “Oh, no. With so many of us, none was singled out to receive special treatment.”
“Us?” The queen cocked her head, the glass of orange liquid midway to her mouth.
“I have three younger sisters and two younger brothers, Your Majesty.”
“I see. What fun you must have had, growing up together.”
“Oh, yes.” A fond smile curved Serena’s lips. “I was never lonely.”
“Hmm.” The queen seemed to contemplate something as she drank. She set the glass down on the table. “It must be so good to have siblings. I’m certain you learned a lot about horse riding from your brothers.”
“That’s true. But what made you say that, Your Majesty?”
“It takes a good horseman -- or horsewoman, for that matter -- to be able to ride so far and to pass safely through our forest. I’m assuming you learned that from your brothers. I must admit I’m impressed, Serena.” The queen looked at her consideringly. “How did you ever find your way here?”
“It wasn’t difficult, Your Majesty,” Serena replied, attempting to be humble, yet pride in her accomplishment leaked from her voice. She was too busy easing her hunger to pay much attention to anything else. “I used the sun as my guide and followed the road due east. I continued riding until --” She broke off as she saw the malicious glint in the queen’s eyes. She injected as much shock and dismay into her voice as she could. “You deliberately tricked me!”
“Well, well, my dear,” the queen said with an evil grin on her face, “you finally gave yourself away.”
PB, er, Giselda clapped her hands with glee in belated realization. “Oh, Mother, you’re so clever!”
To Serena’s immense satisfaction, however, the prince appeared disgusted. “Stepmother, I can’t believe this!”
“Oh, hush.” The queen stopped pretending to eat. Serena could almost see the wheels of her mind turning rapidly. “Let’s see. If you rode due east, then you must have come from the west.” She frowned, turning this way and that until she finally pointed toward the lodge door. “There! The west is over there, and the kingdoms in that direction would be ...” She held up a hand and counted on her fingers as she continued contemplatively, “Rikandia. No, that can’t be. You didn’t even know you’d pass Rikandia’s border. Anyway, there�
��s only the one daughter, far as I know. Farther on would be ... Hethlon. Are you from Hethlon?”
Did the queen really think she’d answer that, even if she were?
“But I heard the King of Hethlon is busy finding suitors for his twelve daughters, Mother.”
“So Hethlon’s out.”
“What about Zallandine?” Giselda chimed in, her eyes eager.
“Oh, no!” The queen shuddered. “Haven’t you heard? Everyone in the castle has been enchanted, and the prince was turned into a hideous beast. I wonder how the poor folk of that kingdom are getting on with their lives.”
The two women continued discussing her origins over her head. Serena deemed it rude of them to do so, and she didn’t really think much of the underhanded way the information had been wormed out of her. At the same time, she didn’t comprehend the desperation in the queen’s move. There must be a compelling reason for her action. But why was it so important for them to know where she was from?
The prince’s deep baritone voice pulled her out of her musings. Serena swiveled her head to look at him. “Stepmother, I don’t see the reason for the cross-examination and guessing games. Surely, letting her stay for the night wouldn’t bring a disaster down on our heads.”
“But Frederick, we have to make sure she’s really who she says she is and ...”
Serena didn’t know how it happened, but one moment, she was following the conversation, and the next moment, she lost it. Only one thought kept going over and over in her head. Frederick. Prince Frederick. His name’s Frederick. Frederick. She sighed, lost in the wonder of trying on his name in her mind. The next thing she knew, the queen was addressing her once again.
“Assuming we accept your story, Serena, you do realize we have to bring you back to your father, the king.” The queen frowned. “We don’t want him waging war on us for harboring his runaway daughter.”
Serena could now understand her concern, but somehow, she had the feeling there was more than what the queen was telling. She decided to ignore the queen’s second statement, for the moment. “But you can’t do that, not when you don’t know where I come from.”
“True.” The queen frowned harder. “That’s why you’re not telling us.”
“Can’t you see that it’s better this way for all of us?” Serena hated the pleading note in her voice, but there didn’t seem to be anything she could do about it. “Mithirien wouldn’t be implicated in my actions if you don’t know who I am or where I’m from.”
“But in the event your father finds out later on, it would be even worse for us.” The queen drew herself up sternly. “Young lady, it would seem that I have to remind you of a princess’s duty to marry whomever her parents decide is the best husband for her. My Giselda has learned that lesson very well.”
Serena kept her face expressionless as she watched PB simper. There was a certain rude satisfaction in calling her that, even if just in her mind, though she didn’t care for what the acronym stood for. Added to this was a hot fury rising within her at the temerity of this woman -- even if she was queen -- to lecture her. What did she know of her situation? Nothing.
“If you don’t know that and aren’t ready to abide by it, you are not a princess.” A triumphant smile played around the queen’s lips.
And to accuse her of lying! It was too much. “I am born a princess, but how I live my life doesn’t have anything to do with being a princess.” Her hands clenched tightly around the cutlery.
“If I remember my history lessons well, over the years, princesses have sacrificed themselves in order to prevent wars, to cement alliances, and to bring about better lives for their subjects.”
Despite the anger washing over her, Serena paled. She couldn’t deny the queen’s words.
“While you are here as our guest, you may want to think on that.” Malice shone from her eyes. “And while we have not convinced ourselves that you are indeed a princess, you wouldn’t object if we call you Serena.”
It wasn’t a question.
Chapter Three
The next day, Frederick tumbled out of his bed in frustration. After washing up and donning his clothes, he strode down to the dining area. Trailing after him was Rodin, who had been waiting outside his door.
Frederick’s head ached from the conflicting thoughts muddling his brain for the last twelve hours. Was Serena a princess? Or was she just faking it?
What did it matter anyway? Princess or not, he wanted her, he would have her. But if she were a real princess, he’d have to marry her, and he didn’t know if she was that good in the sack for him to be worth sacrificing his freedom.
Not only was he suffering from sexual frustration, but also from rage at her obvious scheme. He couldn’t believe that such a sweet face and delectable body could be housing an entire package of deceptive bones. But since it had become known that his mother had extracted a promise from him to marry only a real princess on her deathbed, he’d had scores of women pretending to be princesses turning up at the palace since he gained his majority.
But for Serena to do so, that made her no different from the other women, even though she should’ve realized she didn’t have a hope in hell of convincing him of her royal lineage.
He expelled an angry breath.
For one, she should’ve gotten her props together before she knocked on the lodge door. What were the odds of a princess arriving at their secluded lodge in the middle of a raging storm? Alone?
None.
For another, what royalty would be using the forest trails instead of the well-paved roads that led straight to the palace?
None.
He released a humourless laugh. Foreign royalty wouldn’t even know about the paths in the forest.
And yet…there was her accent and the way she pronounced words, so different from the clipped, no-nonsense way they spoke here in Mithirien. Definitely foreign then.
She was also well versed in a variety of subjects, as he had discovered during their conversation after dinner last night. Surely, only a princess could have received such a wide education.
A moment later, he sighed. If she were not a princess, there was another explanation for her education. Like if her father were a scholar and tutor to the king’s children, then she probably would have received that knowledge him. Or she could be a princess’s lady-in-waiting, educated along with the princess, much like Rodin with him.
There was also that matter of the piano.
After dinner, they had all adjourned to the music room. At the queen’s behest, both Giselda and Serena had each played a musical piece of their choice.
It was true that princesses were expected to be well versed in the musical arts; it was part of their compulsory education. The fact that she had chosen to play a simple piece wasn’t proof that Serena wasn’t a princess. It could be that the piece was a favorite one, or that she only wanted to lighten the gloom that the storm had brought. But if she were really a princess, why hadn’t she used the opportunity to her advantage and presented everyone with some proof by playing the most intricate piece that she knew? Perhaps she had a faulty memory and could only remember the simplest pieces? No, no. The variety of subjects they had conversed about proved that her knowledge was vast. A simple mind wouldn’t have been able to contain so much.
Which led again to the question of why she hadn’t given other proofs to testify to her status. If she were really out to trap him in marriage, as he believed, she should have been pulling one piece of evidence after another out of her sleeve to convince them she was a real princess. Or was that her strategy? Don’t try too hard to convince, and they’ll fall into the trap eventually. There was that saying about convincing too much. Or was that protesting?
Could it be because she wasn’t really concerned whether they believed her or not? If she was innocent of any schemes and really expected to leave once the storm let up, that could be it. If, on the other hand, she wasn’t a princess and she wasn’t out to tempt him, why lie about it i
n the first place?
He felt the beginnings of a headache forming at the left side of his brain. It didn’t bode well for the rest of the day.
They entered the dining area to find the queen and Giselda at their seats, conversing quietly.
“Good morning, Stepmother.” Frederick sent her a short, courteous bow before taking his seat. He waved Rodin to the chair beside his, despite the other man’s reluctance to sit with the family. Too bad. Frederick had always considered him family, and he didn’t much care for his stepmother’s and stepsister’s snobbery. Glancing at Serena’s empty seat, his brows knitted.
“What a slug-a-bed, huh?”
At Giselda’s comment, his head snapped up and his lips drew into a hard line. A moment later, he chuckled. No matter what happened, he could depend on one thing: Giselda would always irritate him.
However, the girl just didn’t know when to quit. He saw her mouth lift in a wide smile and her eyes roll in frantic horizontal and vertical movements. Finally, her gaze hit upon the window, which looked out into the black sky. Drops of rain pelted against it. “It’s such a dreadful day today, isn’t it, Frederick?”
“Oh, no, I love the rain. I absolutely love to hear the pitter-patter of the raindrops against the windows. I imagine the rain falling onto the fields, nourishing the dry ground, bringing sustenance to the crops. Though I know I have no hand in it, I feel a great sense of accomplishment.” He nodded sagely.
Giselda looked at him, uncertainty written across her face.
His lips twitched, and he hurriedly bowed his head. Beside him, he heard Rodin trying, but failing, to smother his laughter. It was so contagious that his own shoulders shook with the mirth that couldn’t be contained. He threw back his head and laughed.
“You’re making fun of me,” Giselda pouted. “How could you!”
The queen cleared her throat disapprovingly. “You’re both too old to be --”
Frederick followed the line of her vision and glanced behind him. He could see nothing out of the ordinary -- two servant girls coming in with platters of eggs, toast and what smelled like crisp fried bacon. Ah, he recognized one of them now. That distinctive red hair belonged to the wife of his woodcutter. She caught him looking and sent him a cheerful grin, and he was so startled he smiled back.