~~~
She had a hard time acting depressed at supper, but she managed -- under the glare of the Queen and the slurp of Aarach's eating. In fact, the more she concentrated on Aarach's eating, the easier it was to act glum. And it was very easy when she remembered Amelia.
She excused herself and walked quickly to her room. Getting into her bed and pulling the bed curtains, she started to cry loudly, all the while very carefully changing into the clothes she -- they! -- had brought down from the attic. She surprised herself by remembering Amelia and actually starting to bawl. The child had been dead for hundreds of years, for Heaven's sake!
But the Princess would miss the child, and she didn't expect that. She didn't even miss the Dragon that badly.
Well. No use moping. Down to the business at hand. She pounded her bed, controlling herself, and put most of her petticoats and her dress back on.
Wiping her face, she sighed theatrically, then opened the bed curtains and starting pacing the room, dabbing at her eyes. After fifteen minutes of this, she sighed again and wandered out into the hall. The few ghosts who had been peeking in on her scattered, and some looked at her sympathetically.
She turned a corner. Aarach and the ghost Marguerite were kissing passionately. She shivered and rapidly turned the other way.
First she went down one hall, then another, and another, until she was certain she wasn't followed. Then, not changing her pace, she went to the great hall --
-- which was, unfortunately, filled with ghosts. The King and Queen were holding court that night. She was disgusted with herself. She had known about the event. The King had mentioned it at supper.
She retreated with what she hoped was the appropriate reaction of disgust, but her heart wasn't in it. When she realized that she actually liked some of the ghosts, she stood stock-still in shock. Because of Amelia, she guessed, she wasn't repelled by ghosts anymore. Much. She thought of the inhabitants of the castle. The place was pretty nice, if a bit dirty. The inhabitants were friendly, even the Queen was fairly nice until-- the Princess chewed her lip. Well, she hadn't meant to insult anybody. She thought about staying and apologizing --
-- then remembered Aarach. Good-hearted and brave as he may be, she could not bring herself to marry a dirty numb-wit. Besides, he was having an affair with a dead woman. Well, the only other exit she knew of was the kitchen. She resumed her sorrowful pace.
She peeked into the kitchen. Just as she thought. It was empty. With a small sigh of relief, she walked slowly to the outside door and slipped through it.
Now where? She looked around. The moon shone brightly, something that she should've taken into account. And her dress was a light pink laced with gold. She rapidly slipped her outer clothes off and looked approvingly at the dark brown shirt and slacks. She stuffed the dress deep into the bushes, covered it with dirt, then smeared some on her face.
She felt great, and she didn't care one iota if she wasn't acting like a princess. So there. So much for the tales.
After storing her tiara and jewels into her pockets, she stuffed her long hair into the hat, then walked swiftly across the large lawn to the opposite wall. She searched for an opening in the shadows. It wasn't too hard -- the wall didn't look like it had been maintained in the past century or two.
She squeezed through the hole (shivering at the touch of a spider web), then spotted a path. Humming an aria under her breath, she started toward it, noticed something that looked like a bunch of sticks moving toward her --
-- and stopped dead still as one furious ghostly guard after another popped into sight. They were carrying all too solid lances. They did not look friendly.
The last two to pop into sight were the King and Queen. The Queen said, "It's time to stop this little charade, don't you think?" The King just looked at the Princess, shaking his head and clucking.
The Princess sighed and pulled off her hat. Things had been going too smoothly. "Aarach and I are quite incompatible," she said lamely.
The Queen snorted. "Since when did that hinder Royal Marriages?"
She had a point. Nonetheless, the Princess forged on. "Usually, both parties are willing." She pursed her lips. "I am not." She looked at the King and spoke softly. "Besides-- I have no dowry and no kingdom. What could I offer your son?"
The King looked at her sadly. "Aren't you a teeny bit grateful that Aarach rescued you from that ferocious dragon?"
She looked away from the Queen, who was glowering. The King seemed genuinely distressed. "I am grateful," – well, not really, but she didn't want to distress the King further – "but I can not marry Aarach," she said softly. "I am sorry." And she was, at that moment. She was going to mention the chambermaid, but decided to keep silent.
The King turned to the Queen. "My dear, there must be other available young maidens. And we really don't need a princess. A pauper can give us grandchildren for the succession."
Grandchildren? That was all they cared about? She thought about Aarach and all his ways. Well, that's probably why he was still Prince, rather than King.
The Queen sighed, and her face collapsed. "I suppose you're right, darling. But I so wanted a Princess." Her face hardened. "Wasn't there a little maid making eyes at Aarach a while back?"
One of the guards coughed meaningfully.
"Yes?" said the Queen coldly.
"Your Highness, that was my sister, Marguerite. She's dead now. But she already has a son."
"Who's the father?" the King asked.
"She won't say, Majesty, but," he gulped, "I believe it was the Prince. Willem certainly looks like the Prince--" He ducked as the Queen glared at him.
"Well, then," the King said thoughtfully. "The matter is settled. We will bring the child into the palace. Aarach will marry the maid posthumously, to make the child legitimate."
The Princess heard a noise, and the company turned to see what it was. Aarach was riding up, waving his sword wildly. "What's up!?" he roared. "What's going on! Can I...urk!" An arrow buried itself in Aarach's chest, and he flopped onto the ground. His ghost, still seated on the horse, looked quite astonished. The Queen glared at the Princess, who raised her hands feebly. After all, all she had was the sword.
"How rude of somebody," the Queen said. "It seems, my dear, the problem is academic now, anyway."
The King patted her arm. "It's all right, darling. We have a grandchild. At least, I think so." He looked at the Prince. "I understand you already have a child."
Aarach gulped. "Well, yeah. But I thought you wanted a Princess. That's why I captured one for you." He smiled. "You mean I can marry Marguerite?"
Another horse galloped up. The guards scattered. Before the Princess could react, the rider leaned over and swept her off her feet, swinging her onto his saddle. She started screaming.
"Relax! You're safe now," whispered her captor in her ear.
"I was safe before," she grumbled, then she turned to face the man. Why, he was quite handsome, he was wearing a coronet, and, moreover, his face was brimming with intelligence. She settled back in his arms and started crying from reaction while the strange Prince whispered comforting words in her ear.
~~~
She was quite in love with him three days later. As he walked the horse through a sunlit valley, she smiled down tenderly at him.
He stopped the horse in front of a large cave. "We're here!" he said, beaming.
Her smile faded. "We're what?" He helped her down off the horse, and a retainer came out of nowhere to lead the animal off. Maybe she hadn't heard him right. "We're what?"
"Why, home, of course," he beamed. He grabbed her wrist and led her into the cave.
"Surely, you don't--" she tried, but he wasn't listening. She looked around and saw furry shapes along the wall.
"Mother, Father, I'm home!" the Prince shouted.
Two wolves trotted forward from the back of the cave. They were wearing coronets. The Princess started pulling back. "Oh..."
They transformed
into a good-looking, middle-aged couple. The Princess fainted.
"Um, this is the Princess I rescued," the Prince said lamely, looking down at her.
"K'Van," the man said. "Didn't you tell her we were werewolves?"
"I guess it never came up," K'Van said, hanging his head.
~End~
Author's Note: This was first published on-line in 1999 in "Dragonslaugh" for the payment of $3.00. The website is now gone and all rights have reverted to me.
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Connect With Me Online:
https://www.lorrainejanderson.com
If you enjoyed this book, please check out the sequel:
The Princess is back -- and, once again, she's trying to get away from her dragon. But when she joins forces with a mysterious alluring stranger with a dangerous past and some ghostly enemies, she discovers her past, her destiny, and her future.
Second-Hand Princess Page 7
