The Surrender of Sleeping Beauty

by Lidiya Foxglove

  “My younger brothers,” Augustus said. “Josef, Duke of Boriginia, the Master of Delights, and Charles, Duke of Normanel. My maiden aunts: Sofia, the Lady of Towers, Adelinda, and Victorie…” The brothers greeted me with kindness. The older aunts scrutinized me with glances, especially the Lady of Towers. I curtseyed to all of them with a smile, even the ones who looked skeptical of me. I was floating on my own nerves at this point; I could hardly feel my fingers and toes, as if I was leaving my body entirely while it operated by itself.

  Of course, I remained graceful and I could see that the aunts approved. The brothers certainly did. Josef was young, of course, but like Augustus, he had a confidence beyond his years. He grinned broadly at his older brother. “Well worth the wait indeed!”

  “And this is my esteemed father, the King of Ellurine,” Augustus said, sweeping into a bow before the older man. “Grandfather, may I present my bride, Princess Marie Rose of Osteria.”

  The king was every bit as attractive as his grandson, but his vigor was fading more than I expected. Age had tempered his beauty to handsomeness, with wrinkles around his eyes and a little more weight to his face, filling out the high cheekbones. His skin was quite pale and his eyes watery, but then, he had been ruling this kingdom for almost a century, having taken the throne as a boy.

  “Beautiful,” he said, with a little private chuckle. “A good bet.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty,” I said. “It’s my honor.”

  I couldn’t help glancing around for any woman who might be the Mistress of Many Loyalties. The idea of having an officially appointed courtesan with an honored title was stunning to me, especially after my mother’s hatred of all courtesans. I didn’t like the idea either. Everyone knew the Mistress of Many Loyalties was beloved by the king, but would Augustus some day turn to her or her successors? I didn’t know how it all worked and I was afraid to ask him. I didn’t even know how to bring up the subject.

  “Let me show you to your rooms, Princess,” Countess Noria said. “We must dress you for the wedding ceremony.”

  There certainly was no end to the whirlwind, but I was as excited as anyone to be married and to see my new rooms, so I hurried behind her.

  I expected that the rooms would be more elaborate than the ones I was used to at home, and I was right. The rooms were newer and more fashionable, the walls paneled in cream with pale blue carvings all the way to the ceilings, the blue running in soft curved lines, with a motif of roses and thorny vines. They hardly looked like wood at all, but had a faint shimmer like they had been carved from some mythical substance. The furniture in the room was made of a very dark, warm wood with undertones of golden and beautiful grain. It also seemed to be varnished in the same way so that it was very smooth and almost sparkling.

  “It’s beautiful,” I breathed, running my fingers along the carved panels. “The roses weren’t carved just for me, were they?”

  “No, they have been here for a long time,” Countess Noria said, without much sense of romance.

  Outside the windows, the sky was turning darker. I tried not to take it as a bad sign.

  I was introduced to a row of servants, including my own hairstylist, shoemaker, and bath attendant. Most of them were dismissed, but a crowd of ladies stayed.

  Countess Noria introduced them as princesses and duchesses; the noble women who would be my most personal attendants. Besides these people, other women were gathered around just to watch. One woman had the honor of pulling up my stockings and fastening my garters and one had the honor of changing my chemise from a practical linen to a fine bautiste that was almost sheer. I was used to having servants attend to me at home, but never women nearly of my own class. I was dying of embarrassment as the ones who were watching smiled behind their fans. They all looked very serious about their duties overall, and they performed them like a dance, not one person out of step. One of them was the beautiful girl who had joined us on the journey. She put my slippers on.

  “We haven’t had a princess in so long…”

  “Nor a Queen Who Bowed!”

  “But hopefully that is years from now, may His Royal Majesty live long and well.”

  They brought out a corset like nothing I had ever seen. I was used to corsets that had lacings in front and back, so I could remove them myself. But this corset had faux lacings in front, made of strings of diamonds. The straps didn’t go over my shoulders but curved around my upper arms so I could wear a bodice with a low neckline. The ladies put it on me and laced it in back, the straps restricting the movement of my arms while the rigid bodice tightened around me.

  “What is this?” I asked, with a faint note of panic.

  “The grand corps,” Countess Noria said. “It is a great honor to wear it; usually women are only permitted to wear it at very rare functions but you will be allowed to wear it on every formal occasion. At the end of the night, it is a great pleasure for your husband to remove it from you.”

  “It’s very tight…” This was an understatement. I was a princess, so of course I couldn’t remember a time I had not been made to wear a corset, even as I used to complain that my brothers didn’t have to wear such things and took every excuse to go without. But this was not like the corsets I was used to. It was fully boned, with no give anywhere, forcing my body into an unnatural shape: breasts thrust high, waist narrowed down into a severe tapering point. I could only breathe shallowly as it tightened around me.

  “You are a future queen,” Countess Noria said. Her voice was patient with me—but almost sarcastically patient. “You are not like other women. You will be have more privilege and beauty than any woman in the kingdom; you will also bear heavier burdens. Wearing the grand corps for all to see—without a word of complaint—will show your discipline. I’m not sure His Highness would be very pleased with a wife who complains about such a small thing. If it troubles you, I would advise you to take a pause and imagine the time when he will undress you for his own. You suffer for his pleasure now.”

  The other ladies in the room, the ones who were just spectators, were looking at me impassively. Their eyes judged me. I saw a faint smile fade from one girl’s lips. Her pointed ears and sly face made me think of a fox. Soft little human, I imagined them thinking.

  “Everyone will be watching you,” one of them said.

  A very unpleasant flush rose into my face and I had to swallow down my panic. My breath came faster, but the corset made it impossible to catch my breath once it ran away from me. There were too many people in the room; I was too hot. But if I asked them to stop and let me collect myself, I just knew they would all gossip about it.

  Augustus was so beautiful and his concern over my dog seemed heartfelt. But now I wondered if he knew how close I was to fainting, and if he would truly want me suffer for him, if there was cruelty lurking behind his kindness. Maybe this sort of thing is what Caroline meant. I didn’t want to spend my life with my very breath caught in a cage. I didn’t want to think this would bring my husband pleasure. But I knew it was my job now to make him happy. Even my mother said I should obey him in all things.

  I felt someone quickly squeeze my fingers and I looked just in time to see the girl whose face I rather liked.

  “It’s not bad if you stay calm and don’t eat much,” she whispered in my ear, so quickly I barely heard her. “It all gets easier.” But after that, I was able to calm down and breathe again, and slowly my swirling head calmed.

  The ladies were dressing me in a petticoat with wide, stiff oblong hoops built into it; they must have been over three feet to each side. Over the petticoat and the grand corps came a brocade dress of cloth-of-silver, adorned with hundreds of tiny diamonds. The fabric settled heavily on my shoulders, but the ladies watching gasped as my attendants lifted the train out behind me. My hair was pulled back into soft curls with a diamond tiara, and my neck, wrists and ears were adorned with enough silver and diamonds to feed an entire small village for a lifetime.

  I felt less li
ke a woman and more like a monument.

  I guess that was the idea.

  I heard clocks chiming the hour throughout the palace as they were putting the finishing touches on my clothes and hair.

  “We must hurry now,” Countess Noria said. “The prince will be waiting.”

  I had to walk carefully, with my clothes so heavy and my wide skirt swaying a little with each motion of my hips. I had to stay steady and glide across the floors like a dancer, as I had been taught, down the Hall of Mirrors. Anyway, my shoes were backless little things that forced me to walk like this, unless I wanted to lose one. And if I did, I certainly would not be able to pick it up myself.

  I knew this room, from the letters I had exchanged with Augustus and the stories I had been told. The long hall was lined with mirrors on one side, and on the other side, glass doors that were open now so that even larger crowds could see me walk by. Mirrors were expensive to make, so I had never seen this many in one place. They meant I would be reflected at every angle, every bit of diamond and silver reflected back. Even before I started my bridal procession and got a good look at the crowd, I could hear the faint murmur, smell the mingling perfume, and sense the urgent curiosity of thousands of people who had crowded behind the balustrade to see the new princess, the future queen.

  More eyes on me, more judgment. It was quickly becoming clear that I could never make a misstep. I could never show my fear, or the miserable pinching of the grand corps.

  At the other end, far away from me now, was Augustus, dressed in gold, seeming like the tallest man in the room although some of the guards were even larger.

  I had a pang of bitterness. He tried to warn me, I thought, but he could have told me more details.

  Of course he didn’t, I thought. How could he possibly tell you that he wants you to suffer? That’s the sort of thing a man would never say with words. Only with actions…when it’s too late to run away.

  I swallowed down a lump in my throat, remembering the one girl who tried to reassure me. Maybe I would have a friend, at least.

  It was thundering outside now, and thousands of candles had been lit in the hall, so the light was still brilliant reflected in the mirrors, despite the gathering storm outside.

  I started walking, and once again I heard whispers of surprise. The faeries didn’t expect a human girl to be so beautiful. Whatever I thought on the inside, I had to be strong for the sake of the honor of my people. I saw a few high elves mixed in among the onlookers, more lofty than the faeries and dressed much more simply, unconcerned by the prospect of rain. I even spotted the occasional pocket of goblins with untamed hair and fanged grins, and darklings with black locks and black tails, including a beautiful one in a red gown who glared at me behind her fan, but I was drawn back to my future husband, waiting for me at the other end of the hall.

  My feet drew me closer. He held out a hand.

  His eyes still looked warm, and I softened a little. It was hard to imagine him being cruel to me. He bowed and I curtseyed, and then he put a hand at my tiny waist and led me forward. My skirts were so wide he had to walk a step behind me, but it still felt as if he was in the lead because he loomed over me.

  “You look very beautiful,” he said softly, but I didn’t reply.

  His fingers brushed my chin. “Is it all too much?”

  “No,” I said, but he just smiled like he knew it was.

  “I’ll make every minute worth it,” he said.

  The ceremony was held before the altar honoring the faery gods of nature, music, and love, with an organ towering over us in the upper stories. The wooden altar was carved with an image of the Wicked Revels, the ultimate expression of those three concepts, an endless party held every night under the stars and presided over by its own king. Trees, flowers, musicians and dancers adorned every side panel. Some of the carved figures were caught in a carnal embrace, girls with wanton expressions bound in vines and penetrated by men who looked too much like my husband-to-be for comfort.

  It would be unthinkable in Osteria to glorify sex in a holy place. But every race had a different idea of such things, and faeries were in some ways the most indecent; that was why the women back home whispered about them, and it was certainly driven home to me now.

  Augustus wasn’t looking at the carvings, he was looking up at the organ which was finishing the final grand notes of our entrance music. He seemed solemn, tendrils of incense smoke brushing his gold coat as the High Cleric blessed us.

  The ceremony itself seemed very long, but blurred by my anxiety. There were so many eyes on us. But when Augustus slipped a ring on my finger, I was shocked by the look on his face; it was so reverent but almost grim. I almost thought I felt his hand shake, although that seemed impossible. Despite his flirtation toward me, I realized that he took his duties as the Crown Prince very seriously. He understood that it was a burden to be the king, and taking on a wife was another step closer to his own future.

  The High Cleric led us in our vows, which were quite different from wedding vows I had heard before.

  “I pledge myself to thee…” Augustus’ voice was a low whisper. “To protect you always, to love and cherish you, to do everything in my power to see that you want for nothing, and to master you completely in the aim of bringing you pleasure.”

  I was blushing thoroughly as I spoke my part. “I pledge myself to thee, my lord and master, to love and cherish you, to give my heart and my body to you without hesitation, and to always do your bidding, that I shall be a symbol of your strength.”

  Someone told me later that only future queens had to say those particular vows, that all other faery women were spared from such demands or such offers.

  Among the court, my position was to be unique. I was now the living symbol of the future king’s strength.

  As Augustus would someday rule over every person in Ellurine, first he must rule over me.

  Chapter Five

  Rose

  After the wedding came gifts. The king presented me with a coffer of jewels, an absolutely enormous chest the size of a wardrobe, covered in embroidered velvet. I could not even believe all this was all for me. My hands were quivering as I opened the doors and revealed the contents. The jewels of a queen…of centuries of queens…

  My mother was a queen. It had not sunk in until I saw all the glittering diamonds, pearls, and gems of brilliant color; decorative boxes and buttons and fans.

  But perhaps the gift that delighted me most was from Augustus: a little clockwork doll of a lady, not a foot tall but intricately dressed in a fair wig and gown like a fashion, who played a tiny dulcimer with little hammers in her hands. “I’ve never seen anything like it!” I cried. Even diamonds were things I had seen before. “Is she playing the anthem of Osteria?”

  “Yes, wind her up again and she plays a song of Ellurine. I had her made just for you. She’s supposed to look like you, in fact, but that was impossible when none of us had ever seen you.”

  “She does look a little like me!”

  Next came a banquet, held inside the palace theater, which had been transformed into a dining hall; the royal table literally upon a stage, with courtiers who were not ranked high enough for an invitation gathered in the boxes.

  My delight over the gifts evaporated. Above my head and below the stage, thousands of eyes watched our entrance with curiosity. They had no food to distract them. Their entertainment was a royal banquet, and a human princess. I heard whispers echoing around the room. Ladies watched behind fans.

  Between the attention and the corset cinching my waist, the sight of all the food made me feel a little sick. I certainly couldn’t imagine eating much of it, though of course I had to accept some. Augustus seemed calm, like this was nothing out of the ordinary for him.

  We sat at the center of the table, facing the people. On one end was the king, and beside him was a beautiful, fair woman in a very simple red gown with colorful plumes in her hair. I knew without being told that this must be the ki
ng’s mistress. I hadn’t expected her to be so young. Faeries were beautiful for a long time, so I thought she might be closer to his age, but she had too fresh a face. Her large breasts heaved over the neckline of her dress, and her neck was wrapped with a choker of ostentatious diamonds. She picked up a few berries with her fingers and slipped one in her mouth, looking at the king. When he returned her attentions, leaning closer to her, she put one in his mouth.

  What a way to behave at a royal banquet!

  She caught me looking at her, and her mouth twisted into a smug, berry-stained smile.

  I flushed, looking away, as I was aware of the whispers. Every tiny interaction at this table was observed by hundreds of people. Everyone besides the king’s mistress was impeccably formal, making light and witty conversation like it was rehearsed. I clammed up. Nothing had prepared me for all of this.

  “Rose?” Augustus said. “Is something wrong?”

  “The woman with the king…”

  The woman was swatting away a servant now, even as the king had a hand down the front of her bodice, fondling her breasts. “I said I didn’t want this!”

  “Madame Bariel,” Augustus said. “I would try not to deal with her.”

  “Why not?”

  “She is very beautiful, but her beauty hides her true nature.”

  “I’m not sure it’s hiding very well.”

  He smirked. “I wish I could have known my grandfather’s previous Favorite. Everyone loved her, but she died years ago, and then the queen died, and for a while we didn’t have a queen or a mistress. The court yearned for a feminine presence and this is what he…decided on.”

  “Oh…,” I said.

  So Augustus would have a mistress, I supposed? I felt very naive and stupid. I had just sworn myself to him completely and the last thing I wanted to consider was that he might also have a courtesan close at hand. I knew about the Mistress of Many Loyalties, but I hadn’t connected it with him—willful ignorance, I suppose.