The Perilous Princess Plot

by Sarah Courtauld

  “Look out for Violet,” said Clive.

  “What’s that?” said Lavender.

  “Violet, the moat-dragon,” said Clive. “And her many, many children. There must be—I don’t know—a hundred of them swimming around in there. Charming creatures. I’m sure you’ll see them when they’re hungry.”

  Lavender looked down into the green water and was pretty sure she saw something moving under the surface. She shuddered. She’d never heard of a prince with his own dragon before, and she’d never heard of a prince’s castle that had a bag of rubbish outside the door and smelled a bit like Grandpa Joe’s oldest socks, the ones he’d inherited from his great-grandfather.

  But there was no time to think, because a moment later they had arrived in the courtyard of the castle, and the front door burst open.

  “The prince!” Clive announced.

  “The prince!” Lavender gasped.

  “The prince!” said the prince, leaping through the door.

  Lavender was prepared to be amazed. But … Wait! He didn’t look anything like the princes in her book of fairy tales. For a start, he wasn’t wearing a crown, or long, flowing robes. He wasn’t holding a rose, or a slipper. And he didn’t have a calm yet gentle face, glowing with a quiet nobility.

  No.

  This prince was wearing a crumpled pink dressing gown, which seemed to have half a piece of cake stuck to it. He had eyebrows that looked like caterpillars, a long oily mustache, and a beard you could hide an otter in. He was only wearing one shoe. And on his shoeless foot, his toe poked through a hole in his sock, and it was incredibly hairy and also a bit yellow. And instead of processing, or bowing, as princes usually did, he was skipping up and down and clapping his hands.

  “You’ve done it! You’ve actually done it!” he shouted. “An actual live princess. A real specimen! This is the happiest day of my life!”

  “This,” said Clive grandly, “is Princess Fahalahalahalaha. Of the House of Ummer. Princess Fahalahalahalaha, your gracious host, Prince Mordmont.”

  “Princess Fahalahalahalaha! Enchanted!” said Mordmont. “Enchanted! Welcome to the family pile!”

  Mordmont pointed to a small pile of pebbles in the middle of the courtyard, as Clive whispered something in his ear.

  “Princess Fahalahalahalaha, it is an honor to have you here. Really, this is a quite magical experience for me. Welcome, fair princess. I do hope you enjoy the cell … the celebration—which we are holding in your honor in just a few days’ time. Now, let me show you to your quarters. It’s so wonderful to have a captive … audience.”

  With that, he turned and pranced into the castle. And, not knowing what else she could do, Lavender followed him.

  “Mind the puddles!” Mordmont shouted as they walked along a dark, cavernous corridor. “It’s just this roof, I’m afraid. These old houses are a real curse. Come along, come along!”

  And as Lavender hurried along behind him, Mordmont led her past the ballroom …

  … the scullery …

  … the pantry …

  … and through another gloomy corridor and up a stone spiral staircase. At the top, Lavender stopped and looked at the strange sight in front of her.

  Instead of a normal door, the door was barred, like the door to a prison cell. And instead of a bed, there was a pile of straw on the floor, like you might find in a prison cell. In fact, thought Lavender, the whole thing looked very much like …

  “The guest suite!” said Mordmont. “With en suite bathroom, of course,” he said, pointing to a small bucket in the corner.

  “But … I don’t understand,” said Lavender, stepping through the door. As soon she stepped into the room, Mordmont slammed the door behind her, plucked a key from his pocket, and turned it in the lock.

  “Aha!”

  He put his head through the bars, and grinned.

  “A ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. Well, Princess Fahalahalahalaha, I do hope you have a very enjoyable kidnapping.”

  “Kidnapping?” said Lavender.

  “Kidnapping.”

  “Kidnapping?”

  “Yes, kidnapping!” said Mordmont, who didn’t have all day to spend just repeating the word “kidnapping.” He had new trousers, and new debts, to get into.

  “You have been tricked by my evil plan!” said Mordmont proudly. “You were brought here under false pretenses. And now you, Princess Fahalahalahalaha, are my prisoner!”

  “But, you can’t just keep me here!” said Lavender.

  “Look, I know I might look beastly to you,” Mordmont replied. “But underneath, I’m just a dastardly villain. This is just what I do. When the ransom arrives, you will be free.”

  “The ransom?”

  “One thousand silver pieces. Until it is paid, you will be trapped. As trapped as my wind,” said Mordmont grandly, shifting in his breeches. “And like my trapped wind, you will never be free—unless the ransom is paid!”

  “I … I think there’s been a mistake,” said Lavender quietly. “I’m afraid you’d better let me go. You see…” She gulped. She felt as if she might be sick, and her voice suddenly sounded very, very small. “I’m not … I’m not really a princess! I was just … pretending.”

  Mordmont looked shocked. “Oh, well then, you must leave immediately,” he said in a grave voice before exploding with laughter. “Not a princess? Not a PRINCESS?! Nice try! But I can see your pointy princess hat, and I won’t be fooled that easily, Princess Fahalahalahalaha of the House of Ummer.”

  “But—” said Lavender.

  “Oh, don’t look so miserable. If this all works out, the ransom will be here any day, and then you can run along home to your castle and do whatever it is you princesses like to do. You can talk about measles and France to your heart’s content. And you’ll never see this beastly face again!”

  And he skipped off back down the stairs, leaving Lavender looking around her cell and shuddering.

  Chapter Twelve

  In which there is a vision.

  “Forests aren’t scary,” Eliza said to Gertrude as they picked their way through the darkness. “Forests are just trees. And what’s scary about trees?”

  “Nothing, really,” said Sidney the Tree, who they happened to be passing.

  “Exactly,” said Eliza. “There’s nothing to be scared of. And anyway, Lavender’s probably fine. Maybe she’s been kidnapped by a nice kidnapper who just wants to practice French conversation. Or play cards. Or learn how to faint. Everything’s fine. There’s no reason to be scared…”

  “Halt!” said a voice from out of the darkness.

  “Er, hello?” said Eliza.

  “I am Boris the Wise,” said the voice. “I know what you seek, and I can help you.”

  “You’re not another wizard, are you?” said Eliza.

  “Certainly not,” said the voice as a lantern appeared in the darkness, and Eliza saw a figure crouched next to a large black cauldron. She had a face as wrinkled as a raisin that’s been in the bath for a really long time. Like Eliza, she had bright red hair. It sprang out of her head in all directions, as if it was quite embarrassed to be there in the first place, and was trying as hard as it possibly could to leave. As Eliza stepped closer, she deduced that Boris the Wise had not washed in a while, as she smelled a little bit like a stagnant badger.*

  “I’m looking for Mordmont’s castle,” said Eliza.

  “I can help you, but my wisdom comes at a price,” Boris replied with a crooked smile on her face.

  “What do you want?” asked Eliza.

  “Only … your knees,” said Boris.

  “My knees?”

  “Your knees. Just for a day or two. For I am trying to fix my roof, and you should try getting up there with these knees. Do you accept?”

  “Um … no?”

  “Excellent,” muttered Boris. “She agrees.”

  She gazed down into her cauldron, stirring it with a large spoon and mumbling strange words under her breath. Words like “gimbleskimbl
etillytumtickleflub” and “halibut.”

  Eliza crept closer and gazed into the cauldron too. But all she could see in it was some watery soup and a single, sad-looking turnip.

  “I SEE IT NOW!” Boris suddenly shrieked. “THE TURNIP OF DESTINY! HEARKEN! IT WILL COME TO YOUR AID! DO NOT FORGET!—There, the vision fades. Fades. Fades. Fades … It’s gone. Ooh—it’s coming back! No, that’s just an advert. It’s gone.”

  She sighed, and then fixed Eliza with a steely look. “Be gone, child. It is over! Get thee hence!”

  But Eliza didn’t go anywhere, possibly because she didn’t know where “hence” was. She looked down into the cauldron, and then up at Boris again. “Are you quite sure that was the Turnip of Destiny?” she said. “Only I was looking into the cauldron, and the turnip in it … Well, it looked just like an ordinary turnip to me. I don’t really think you deserve my knees. And you haven’t told me where to find Mordmont’s castle.”

  “Child, you know less than nothing! That is the TURNIP OF DINNER. What I saw in my vision was the TURNIP OF DESTINY. They are completely different turnips. And if you can’t tell the difference between a real turnip and a visionary turnip, that is not my affair. Now, get lost! Go on! Scram! No—not that way! The castle’s the other way! That’s right. Just over the hill, and then turn left! Be gone!”

  So Eliza and Gertrude rode off.

  Silly old bat, thought Eliza. As if she could borrow my knees. What a completely ridiculous idea.

  She looked down at her legs.

  “Aaarrrggghhh!”

  Chapter Thirteen

  In which Lavender makes a discovery.

  Locked in her cell, Lavender stood and shivered.

  She stared at the damp pile of straw in the corner, and the spiders’ webs hanging from the ceiling, and she felt like the ground beneath her might be about to give way. (And since she was in a badly built castle, on an island floating in the middle of a moat, that might well have been true.)

  I’m trapped! she thought. The ransom is never going to arrive. I’ll be locked here until I’m really old … like, twenty-two … or even older!

  Since she couldn’t bear thinking about it, she curled up on the damp straw bed and opened up her book of fairy tales.

  The page fell open on the tale of Beauty and the Beast:

  Moments earlier, the man in front of her had been a hideous beast. But as she kissed him there was a flash of light. Before her stood the handsome prince she had been dreaming of.

  “A wicked fairy put a curse on me,” he told her. “She turned me into this hideous beast. Only by finding true love could the curse be broken. Your kiss has broken the spell forever…”

  Suddenly, everything fell into place. Lavender slammed the book shut, jumped up, and started to pace around the tiny room.

  She thought of Mordmont’s yellow teeth—teeth that looked like they belonged to a warthog. And of his wild, wiry eyebrows that looked like they belonged to a warthog. And of his warts, which also looked like they belonged to a warthog.

  Of course!

  MORDMONT WAS THE BEAST!

  Lavender thought of everything he had said to her, from his very first words: “Enchanted!… A real curse!… Soon, my life will be transformed!… This is the happiest day of my life!… I might look beastly to you. But underneath, I’m a lovely prince!”*

  Mordmont really IS a handsome prince after all! Lavender thought. He’s just trapped by a terrible curse, which has transformed him into a beast and turned his beautiful castle into this hideous ruin!

  And what did her book say could break the spell?

  True Love’s First Kiss!

  That’s it, she thought to herself. Only true love can break the spell! I just need to see Mordmont as the handsome prince he really is. And see this room as the beautiful room it surely is …

  That stool in the corner was probably a beautiful dressing table. The pile of straw was a beautiful four-poster bed. That large, hairy spider was probably just an unlucky footman called Graham, trapped by an evil curse.

  “Poor Graham,” Lavender said, and she stroked the spider’s hairy back. “Don’t worry, Graham, it’s all going to be all right,” she whispered, before breaking into song:

  “Once the spell is broken

  My prince will be revealed,

  All handsome and kind

  and polite and refined

  And I’ll be wined and dined

  I can see in my mind

  That he’s one of a kind,

  In my heart he’s enshrined

  And our stars are aligned

  For our fates are entwined

  Now I’ve found peace of…”

  “… Rind?” said Bonnet, appearing at the door.

  “Oh—thank you!” said Lavender, whirling around, her eyes glowing with happiness.

  “Rind soup,” said Bonnet as he handed her a bowl of thin, gray soup through the bars.

  “It looks delicious!” Lavender replied, for she knew that the food was enchanted. If only she could see it as it really was, it would be something like a slice of double dark chocolate fudge cake (with extra chocolate ice cream). It just looked like thin, gray soup. But Lavender could imagine how gooey and delicious it looked, and how sweet and delicious it tasted. With all the different layers of chocolatey deliciousness just stacked on top of each other …

  “This must have taken hours,” said Lavender.

  “Er, not really,” said Bonnet.

  “Well, you’re very kind.”

  “Oh, thank you, Your, er, Highness,” said Bonnet shyly, his heart melting. (Not literally melting, you understand. That would have been disgusting.) “It was the least I could do,” he said with a shrug. (Which was true. It really was the least he could have done.)

  Bonnet trudged off down the stairs, thinking how kind and polite princesses were.

  I wish I could help her. But I’m only a tiny giant. What can I do? Bonnet thought to himself, absentmindedly swinging the keys to Lavender’s cell.

  Chapter Fourteen

  In which Mordmont reveals the secret sweet side that no one knew he had.

  Chapter Fifteen

  In which there is a kiss.

  That night, before Lavender got ready for bed, she decided to practice for True Love’s First Kiss by kissing Graham the Footman. He didn’t seem to mind, although she did wonder if it would be a bit awkward when the spell was broken, and he became a human and stopped being a spider. Then, just as she was curling up to go to sleep, there came a crash, and a bang, a tumble, and in through the window came …

  “Eliza?!!!! GERTRUDE! What are you doing here?!”

  “Quick!” said Eliza. “Come on! I’ve come to rescue you!”

  “How did you even get up here?”

  “Gertrude can climb anything. Now, come on. I think the guard spotted me! Let’s go!”

  “Eliza,” hissed Lavender. “I’m not going anywhere!”

  “What?” said Eliza.

  “Look, you can’t rescue me. I’ve already been rescued! It’s too complicated to explain.”

  “Come on! We have to go, before someone comes and everything’s ruined!” Eliza said.

  “No, YOU have to go, before someone comes and everything’s ruined!”

  “Wait: you don’t want to be rescued?” said Eliza, her eyes nearly popping out of her head.

  “No!” said Lavender. “Of course not! I’ve found my prince. I’m living in a beautiful castle. Once the spell is broken you’ll understand. But if you want me to be happy, you should leave. Right now!”

  “I should leave?!” said Eliza. “After I got lost in the woods, got attacked by wasps, survived a badger stampede, and climbed all the way up this tower?”

  “Exactly!” said Lavender. “That’s exactly what I’m saying!”

  “Have you completely lost your mind?” Eliza asked.

  “No, I have completely found my prince. And if you weren’t so jealous, you’d be happy for me. Isn’t that ri
ght, Graham?”

  “Who’s Graham?” asked Eliza.

  “Graham,” Lavender said primly, “is a very nice footman, who has been transformed into a spider by an evil enchantment.”

  “Right,” said Eliza. “You’re talking to a spider. And you want me to leave.”

  “Yes!”

  “You don’t want to be rescued.”

  “No! Now go away, before anyone sees.”

  “Sees what?” said the deep, gravelly voice of Clive, jutting his spade-shaped head through the bars.

  “Sea … sea … I do like to be beside the seaside,” sang Lavender uncertainly. “I’m just doing my evening singing,” she went on as Eliza ducked behind the pile of straw.

  “You sure everything’s all right in there?” asked Clive. “Thought I heard a bit of a commotion.”

  “No, no, everything’s perfect!” said Lavender.

  “Everything’s perfect?” said Clive, a little surprised.

  “Everything’s PERFECT?” said the pile of straw.

  “What was that?” asked Clive suspiciously.

  “Echoes!” said Lavender. “Funny things. Really, I’m fine in here. Never been better.”

  “Hmmmmn,” said Clive, smelling a rat.

  He put the rat back in his pocket. He just liked the smell of them really.

  Clive looked around, sighed, and frowned.

  “Well, keep a lid on the singing,” he growled. “When you’re in your own castle, you can sing to your heart’s content. But for now, you’re Mordmont’s prisoner, all right?”

  “Of course,” said Lavender.

  And Clive trundled off back down the stairs.

  “Eliza?” said Lavender, waiting for Eliza to come out of her hiding place. “Gertrude?”

  But there was no reply.

  Chapter Sixteen

  In which twenty-three dandelions are eaten.

  Meanwhile, with Eliza on her back, Gertrude skittered, hopped, and climbed as delicately as she could down the outside of the tower, which was not very delicately at all, as she lost her footing, fell, and landed on Eliza’s head.