Princesses Don't Become Engineers

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Princesses Don't Become Engineers Page 8

by Aya Ling


  "I am an Academy student."

  "Then why're you working for Maurice and Jims?" She may not care for the Academy, but she was aware that only the aristocracy could attend it. The cost of armor alone deterred any hopeful commoner.

  Seeing that he did not answer, the curiosity in Elaine only grew stronger.

  "If you don't want to tell me, I understand. I won't question you any further. But let me warn you: I can't stand having an unsolved mystery, so I'll have to resort to trickery and bribes."

  The corner of his mouth quirked.

  "I am only the son of a blacksmith. My mother was a travelling circus performer from a distant Archipelago island."

  That explained his unusual eyes and his athletic build. He looked away when he spoke of his mother; Elaine suspected Andre was not close to his mother. But now she didn't feel like probing further.

  "The empress sponsored me, but the expense is huge. I want to earn my way for room and board."

  "Empress Salome sponsored you? That's really generous of her!"

  "Indeed." A smile spread across his face, softening his angular features and bringing a glow in his violet eyes. For a second, Elaine stared at him. He wasn't handsome, but there was a charm in him, mysterious and alluring.

  "By the way," he smiled down at her, his eyes twinkling. "Why do you want to buy a saw for Master Jims?"

  Elaine gave him an account of Valeria's foot and the chair she designed.

  Andre listened quietly. His eyebrows rose when she mentioned the wheeling chair.

  "Extraordinary. Not only are you attending the University, but you're inventing things as well?"

  Elaine blushed at the unmistaken admiration in his eyes. "It's better than princess lessons."

  Market Square was the largest place to shop in the capital, Avon. When she was smaller, Elaine used to beg her elder brothers to take her to the market. Sometimes there were street shows of jugglers and acrobats, sometimes there were food contests, and occasionally there were fortune tellers and other sorts of entertainment. She always enjoyed visiting the market, but since it was an enormous place where one could easily get lost in, her parents worried for her safety and seldom allowed her to go by herself.

  At sight of the rows and rows of stalls, Elaine let out a whoop of excitement. She headed for her favorite spot–the toy section–a market that was on rapid increase. In the past, there were only marbles and rubber balls, but the selection has increased to hand puppets, magic lanterns, jigsaw puzzles, dominoes, musical boxes...and so on. The clown she had tried to glue in Lady Wesley's compact box was purchased here.

  Before she reached the toy shops, a seller tried to waylay her.

  "Mademoiselle! A pretty dress for a pretty girl!" And he shook a dainty muslin frock before Elaine's eyes. "A bargain, Mademoiselle! Perfect for you!"

  Elaine shook her head and tried to slip past him. "No, thanks, I'm not interested in buying anything."

  "You don't like this frock? How about this?" The seller quickly snatched up a red pinafore. "Very fashion, very fashion from Tintagel!"

  "Excuse me." Andre laid a hand on the seller's shoulder. He said a few words in Tintagelese–none of which Elaine understood–and the seller looked scared and slunk off, like a dog with its tail between its legs.

  "What did you say to him?" Elaine asked.

  "I told him not to bother you," Andre said, still frowning in the direction of the seller. "You are not interested in clothes?"

  "Not very." Elaine grimaced. "I'm not completely against dressing up, but once in a while is enough. Winnie always scolds me for soiling nice clothes, especially when I climb trees, so I might as well save them the trouble of replacing all the bows and laces."

  Elaine would have liked to spend more time at the market, but she had to remind herself she still had lots of work waiting, including the important quarter-exam in math. After purchasing a stuffed teddy bear for Baby Charles and the tools for Jims, she admitted reluctantly that they should be leaving.

  "I don't want to go home this early, but I must," she said ruefully, cuddling the teddy bear with more vigor than necessary.

  "Work?" Andre shifted the saw strapped on his back. Although it was safely encased in layers of paper and leather, the handle stuck out from the back of his shoulder. No one, not one seller, dared to bother them.

  "Exams. I have this big math exam coming up, and–"

  A loud, exuberant voice came from a stall that had a large collection of ornaments and jewelry on display.

  "Milady! How lovely to see you again! We have some new brooches this season, imported from Tintagel. The latest fashion, I assure you."

  "Show me." A lady said. Her distinctly dignified tones almost sounded haughty.

  Elaine froze. Lady Wesley, arrayed in a handsome velvet gown and a fancy hat topped with roses, was standing in front of the stall.

  "How much is it for this one?" Lady Wesley held up an ornate gold-gilt brooch studded with tiny diamonds.

  "Ah, you have such good taste, Madam! That one I bought from an Amarantan merchant–you are unlikely to find another of the same kind! The price is for three golds and ten silvers."

  "For one brooch alone?" Lady Wesley raised her voice. "I have bought others for much less!"

  The seller bowed and apologized. "Only because the quality is unequaled, my lady! There, I will give you a generous discount–thirty percent off!"

  "And how much is that?"

  "Three golds, my lady. It's a bargain, I promise you."

  Elaine did a quick calculation. "Wait," she stepped forward. "There's a mistake."

  Lady Wesley stared. "Elaine! Are you here by yourself? Where's your chaperone?"

  Elaine pointed at Andre, who obligingly shifted his position so the upper part of the saw protruded from his back. Lady Wesley's jaw dropped.

  Before her former governess could utter any protest, Elaine announced, "You've been cheated, Mrs. Wesley. Your brooch should be less than three golds."

  The seller swelled. "What nonsense! Three golds is a bargain! Ask anyone around, they will quote a much higher price."

  "My point is that your discount doesn't add up to your price," Elaine said. "Let's see–one gold equals twenty silvers, and one silver equals fifty coppers. Your original price, three golds and twelve silvers, equals 3600 coppers. Thirty percent off will be 2520 coppers, which equals two golds, nine silvers and thirty coppers. Not three golds as you claim."

  "You little..." The seller began, his face livid.

  Lady Wesley whirled on him, her eyes snapping. "Is she right? I am warning you, if you dare cheat me, I shall inform all my friends to avoid your store. Which will certainly be a great loss, I assure you."

  The seller looked sullen, but he brought out an abacus. It was merely for show–if he were doing business, he had to know if he had miscalculated.

  "I seem to have made a mistake," he muttered. "I'm sorry–truly sorry. I'll give you a deeper discount. Please forgive me."

  Elaine grinned. "Come on, Andre, we have to hurry back."

  "Elaine," Lady Wesley said, looking at her with a strange, cautious expression.

  "Yes?"

  "You have my gratitude. While the amount withheld is not immense, you have alerted me to a dishonest seller."

  "You're welcome," Elaine said, shifting on her toes. This time, Lady Wesley didn't snap at her posture. "Sorry, but I really must be getting back. Lots of work to do, you know."

  Lady Wesley inclined her head. When Elaine had gone a few paces, she turned her head slightly and looked in the corner of her eye. Lady Wesley was still staring at her.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  "Message for you, little princess," Winifred said.

  "What is it?" Elaine said, pulling on her University cloak and looking around the room. "Have you seen my other shoe?"

  "Here!" Effie chirped. She emerged from under the bedstead, dangling a rather muddied, well-worn sandal with fabric ankle wraps.

  Elaine cheered and
gave her a hug. "Oh thanks, Effie! I can never remember where my shoes are, they must have grown feet on their own."

  "You had better stop kicking your shoes off when you fling yourself on the bed," Winifred said severely.

  "All right, all right. By the way, you wanted to tell me something?"

  "The carpenter said that the chair thing you wanted him to make is ready."

  "Oh!" Elaine dropped her hair ribbons. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

  "Because you fell asleep last night. Now don't go flying into the air, you have class in ten minutes."

  Elaine barely heard; her mind was floating on clouds. When she devised the wheeling chair, she wasn't sure that Jims could really materialize it from a simple design on paper. But he did it!

  She barely knew how she got through the day. She made so many mistakes in reading a piece of Rivieran literature that the professor proclaimed her incorrigible. Once the bell tower chimed six times, Elaine flew down to the carpenter's shop.

  "Jims! I got your message! Oh, is that the chair?"

  Jims grinned; his teeth looking particularly white against his bronze skin. "That's it, little princess. Try it out and see fer yerself."

  Elaine was already clambering onto the chair. Her feet dangled above the ground, but she could manage to push on the enlarged wheels. As she envisioned and expected, the turning of the wheels propelled the entire chair forward. It rolled across the smooth, stone-paved courtyard with the little princess wheeling and whooping in a most unladylike manner.

  When she returned to Jims, she sprang off the chair and hugged him. "You're a genius! I can't believe that you really made it!"

  "It might be crafted from my hands, but it's all your idea. Her Highness Valeria'll be mighty pleased."

  "I'll have to get it to her right now," Elaine said. "Thank you SO much, Jims. You're the best carpenter ever."

  As she wheeled the chair to the kitchens, quite a few courtiers and servants and errand boys paused and stared.

  "Princess!" Marianne, a stout dairy maid, stopped in front of Elaine. She put her hands on her hips and gave the princess a suspicious look. "What are you up to this time?"

  "Don't worry, Marianne," Elaine returned. "I'm a good girl now. Would I do anything to upset the University and get kicked out of school?"

  "Then what's this...thing you're bringing?"

  "A special chair for Valeria. Watch me!" And Elaine went off, pushing on the wheels.

  The others stared and commented.

  "What's the princess doing?"

  "What's that strange chair?"

  "Can I touch it? Can I have a go on it?"

  "Not now, I have to get to Valeria!" Elaine said loudly.

  "Her Highness has returned to the palace," Marianne said. "The baby was crying, so she had to go."

  Elaine found Valeria getting off the carriage, right outside the side entrance leading to the palace. She still used a staff, but the number of bandages on her foot was reduced.

  "Valeria!" Elaine called.

  The Amarantan princess paused. She smiled at Elaine, but a puzzled look crossed her face.

  "Where did you get this...is this a chair?"

  "Nowhere." Elaine gave a final push so that the wheeling chair landed right in front of Valeria. "I came up with an idea and Jims made it come true. I thought if you had a chair with wheels, you wouldn't need a staff or carriage." She demonstrated how to propel forward by pushing on the wheels.

  "In that case, I must give it a try," Valeria smiled. Slowly, with the help from a footman on either side, she lowered herself into the chair. Since the design was so simple, it was no time before she was wheeling herself around the courtyard with ease.

  By the time Valeria wheeled herself back to Elaine, a small crowd had gathered around them.

  "What a fantastic idea you had," Valeria said, her eyes sparkling. "Many will be spared from the onerous task of waiting on me, and I can exercise my arms by pushing on these wheels. How wonderful. I can't thank you enough, dear."

  "It's mostly Jims' work," Elaine said, though she couldn't stop grinning. "I only told him what I needed."

  "How did you come up with the idea?"

  Elaine laughed and informed her that the inspiration was from her geometry lessons.

  "Your Highness!" A nurse maid came flying out of the palace. "The baby's crying for you again!"

  "Just a moment." Valeria reached out and touched Elaine's arm. "I'm so glad you're doing well at school, dear. Keep up the good work. You'll be to the University what Lady Matilda was to the Academy."

  She was failing in literature and Tintagelese, but Elaine couldn't bring herself to say it. Not when Valeria was smiling at her so encouragingly.

  So Elaine only nodded and grinned. "Of course."

  When Elaine arrived at the University the following day, still fighting the urge to yawn, she was surprised to see a group of pupils gathered round a large poster stuck on the wall in the hallway.

  Instantly, her curiosity was roused. She looked around and hailed a scrawny boy who shared a few classes with her.

  "Will! Can you tell me what's up there? What're they all looking at?"

  Will flinched, as though he couldn't believe she'd speak to him.

  "The...the quarter exam results are out."

  "They are?"

  Elaine stood on tiptoe, trying to peer at the poster, but it was useless. She'd have to wait until the boys were all gone.

  "You didn't do too badly," Will mumbled, not even looking at her.

  "Huh?"

  "Your exam." He shuffled off, leaving her with numerous question marks swimming in her head. What did he just say?

  The bell rang, signaling the next class was about to start. Elaine waited until everyone dispersed, then sneaked up to the poster. Professor Samuel would be displeased if she were late, but he was always displeased with her.

  The quarter-exam was graded on a different scale–it used numbers, not letters.

  And then she saw it. Her name, Elaine Leventhorpe, with a small handwritten "91" next to it.

  "Ninety-one?" Elaine read aloud. Her voice sounded foreign to her ears. It couldn't be–she received a 91 out of 100! Did Albert take pity on her? Had the rest of her classmates fallen asleep in the exam?

  Only eight others scored higher than her–Francis Wesley included, unfortunately–but she didn't care. Elaine Leventhorpe, who was accused of using her royal connections to enter the University, had come out ahead, ranking higher than most first-year students in math. Math, not humanities. She wanted to tear off the poster and shove it under Sir Greenwood's nose. Who said girls were not physiologically-inclined towards science?

  "Miss Leventhorpe." An icy voice sliced through her reverie. "Might I remind you that class has started ten minutes ago? Have you grown so fond of standing in the corner?"

  "Oh, Professor!" Elaine turned, with such a dazzling smile that even the professor froze for a second. "Of course. I am perfectly aware that my tardiness is inexcusable; there's no need to remind me. I shall punish myself."

  And she sailed into the classroom, heading straight for the corner with a cheerful expression and glowing eyes, leaving the poor professor wondering if the princess had gone mad.

  During the lesson, she bore the incredulous stares from her fellow classmates with alacrity. They whispered and nudged each other, just like her first day of school, but this time their gazes were different. Curiosity, disbelief, even appreciation, but not condescension. She caught mutters of "wheeling chair," "quarter exam," "math score."

  Smiling, Elaine held her head high.

  With her success in the math exam, Elaine's spirits rose exponentially. Striving to study as hard as she could, she went to the extent of re-designing her bedroom until it was hardly recognizable. She had servants tack huge scrolls of parchments over the wall. Written over the parchments were chemical names, history dates and Rivieran vocabulary that were difficult to spell. The wardrobe was pushed to a corner. The old
table, a delicate piece of furniture with spindly legs, was replaced by a large, sturdy desk capable of withstanding the numerous textbooks the princess heaped on it. Bookshelves lined the wall where the new desk was propped against.

  Today, Elaine employed Effie to help her with history--her brain always seemed to slow down when it came to memorizing boring dates. Effie sat at the desk, holding a large book and reading aloud. The princess perched on the corner of her four poster bed, munching on an apple and swinging her feet to and fro.

  "Next question." Effie turned the page. "Which year did Tintagel pass the law that allowed women to rule? A. Year 220; B. Year 228; C. Year 282; D. Year 320."

  "B!"

  "Correct! On to the next question...oh! Your Highness!"

  Indeed, there was no mistaking the plump, rosy-cheeked figure in the wheeling chair. Elaine jumped off the bed in delighted surprise.

  "Valeria! I'm so glad to see you!"

  Valeria took hold of a long feathery curl and tweaked it. "Been studying hard, I see. Ralph ought to see you."

  "Surprised?" Elaine offered a cheeky grin.

  "Not the least." Valeria ruffled her hair affectionately. "When it's something you decided to do, not what others forced upon you, I knew there'd be more effort from you. Though I didn't expect that you'd go to the length of re-furnishing your room."

  "There's more," Effie put in. "Elaine wants to create an opening between this room and the next one."

  The room adjacent to Elaine's was in fact Valeria's old room, but since she married the crown prince, that room was rarely used.

  "You have plans?"

  Elaine nodded eagerly. "I want to have a study room where I can put all my textbooks and notebooks and stationery. You know, like Ralph having his own office for dealing with state affairs and stuff? It'd be grand if I can have my own space."

  Valeria's eyes twinkled. "Wonderful. Now you're in the University, I can no longer manage to oversee your lessons, but I can see that you're well fed with the right foods. I'll ask Ferdinand to prepare sardines and beans as a side dish to your meals. Now don't make faces, fish is supposed to be work wonders for your brain."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

 

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