Princesses Don't Become Engineers

by Aya Ling

  "My sincere apologies for being late." Elaine curtsied and cast a quick glance over the attendees.

  One, two, three...eleven suitors. If she spent an average of twenty minutes on each, (surely that would be sufficient?) it would be three hours and forty minutes in total. Surreptitiously, Elaine pulled out her pocket watch and consulted the time, wondering if Hugo would still be in his office when she finished.

  Owen and Alfred covertly elbowed each other and glowered. A Makani noble with curly black hair sat waiting, though no animal perched on his shoulder. Ever since Ari had battled with a monkey at Valeria's wedding, animals were forbidden in formal functions. There were several other young men, all from noble families that she recognized but never cared for. Lastly, a short young man with tanned skin awaited her; he must be the Amarantan Effie had mentioned. Elaine caught him staring at her with his mouth half open; he blushed and turned away, his face as red as a cherry tomato.

  "Elaine," Valeria spoke. A flicker of emotion passed through her eyes–was it sympathy? "How lovely of you to join us. If you would come over here, there are several who would like to make your acquaintance."

  Elaine wove through several small walnut tables that only accommodated two to three people–no doubt to encourage mingling among the people. Refreshments were laid out in a long table against the wall. Two footmen were in charge of keeping the platters full.

  It was all very tiresome. Valeria laid a hand on her arm and introduced her to the guests. Elaine mentally ticked off every person she met and calculated how much time she had left.

  "This is Pablo, the second son of my cousin in Amaranta," Valera said. "Pablo, Her Royal Highness, Elaine."

  The Amarantan blushed to the tips of his ears. "Pablo Gionavvi at your...your service."

  "I am glad to meet you, sir," Elaine said. "It must be a long journey from Amaranta."

  "Ah... yes! Very long. Journey, I mean." He stammered and put his elbow in the butter dish. Elaine looked away and put a hand over her mouth to conceal an urge to laugh.

  The tea party, Elaine soon discovered, was more exhausting than working in her den for ten hours straight. None of her suitors genuinely appreciated her University work--they simply feigned polite interest. Pablo was incapable of forming whole sentences, another couldn't stop babbling, and most of them just bragged endlessly. Elaine wished that she could disappear. In her boredom, she looked out of the window. Heavy gray clouds blotted out the sky and the trees swayed from a strong gust of wind. She wouldn't be surprised if it started raining.

  A clap of thunder boomed.

  Pablo looked terrified. "Do you often have rain in Riviera?"

  "Oh, sometimes, we get sunshine and rain and snow in the same day," Elaine answered nonchalantly. Riviera was not known for good weather, unlike sunny Amaranta.

  Lightning flashed outside and the windows rattled. A few women gasped. Another clap of thunder, followed by heavy sounds of rain thudding on the ground.

  Suddenly, a horrified thought struck Elaine. Her flying machine! It was still outside, on the rooftop of the Academy keep!

  Elaine stood up abruptly and knocked over a jar of jam.

  "Excuse me," she gasped. "I have to go–an urgent matter calls."

  "Elaine," Ralph said firmly. He sent her a warning look that told her she should stay. Whatever urgent matter she had should be put off.

  "What's wrong, dear?" Valeria said.

  "My... my flying machine," Elaine gasped. "I forgot to bring it in–the rain might damage it!"

  "Flying..." Alfred began.

  "... machine?" Pablo said.

  "Yes! It's my project for the Exhibition! Please excuse me. I must see to it."

  Elaine gathered up her skirts and ran. She did not hear Ralph calling, but even if she had, she would have ignored him. She raced as fast as she could towards the Academy. The machine being foremost in her mind, she cared not what others thought of her. She kicked off her pretty slippers, tied them round her neck and ran barefoot. Servants and courtiers stared as she flashed past, her slippers dangling in front of her bodice.

  "Princess!" a guard called out to her. "Don't go out, the rain is too heavy!"

  Seeing that the guard planted himself in the way, Elaine didn't bother to argue. She darted into a side room, pushed the window open and leaped outside.

  Rain fell in torrents, completely drenching her from head to foot. She sneezed, but simply wiped her face and headed towards the Academy. The rain being so heavy, no one followed to stop her.

  Elaine didn't know how long it took running through the rain. Somehow she got to the Academy and pounded up the stairs. She climbed the ladder leading to the roof and opened the trapdoor.

  Rain water puddled on the ground, reaching past her ankles. She was completely drenched, cold, wet and shivering, but all her thoughts were on the sorry sight before her.

  Her beloved flying machine was submerged in water, leather and all. It couldn't be ruined--she had taken pains to build it sturdy and durable--but seeing the tangled, sodden mess, she could not be certain. Was titanium subject to rust?

  She scooped up the machine in her arms and started down the ladder. Halfway through, her foot slipped. She tried to grab on the ladder but doing so required her to let go of the machine. With a gasp, she landed on the floor in a hard bump. The machine dropped with a loud clatter. The gears rattled and squeaked; she winced.

  "Princess!"

  It couldn't be. Andre, whom she hadn't seen since the tournament, was staring at her, his expression a mingle of horror and concern. Then he ripped off his cape–the new crimson cape that was bestowed to him by Lord Darwar himself–and wrapped it around Elaine.

  Normally she'd be thrilled. But right now, she was too agitated, too worried about her flying machine.

  "I...I must get back to my den." Elaine staggered to a standing position. Her back was sore, her mind filled with anxiety. She leaned and picked up her machine, but suddenly found herself lifted into his arms, machine and all. Surprised, she looked up at him, her eyes bright and questioning.

  "Let me." His voice could not be more tender. "I could never forgive myself if you caught a cold."

  Elaine didn't know how long it took till they reached her room. She wanted it to end soon so she could check her machine, but on the other hand, she admitted that she liked being in Andre's arms. His arms were strong and capable, handling her as gently as he would a porcelain doll. She felt treasured, cherished. This was what she wanted, not incessant fawning.

  "Little princess!" A distressed voice echoed through the corridor. Her two maids hurtled towards her like the comets she learned in astrology.

  "My goodness, she might as well have taken a dive in the lake!" Winifred whipped out a large, fluffy towel--did the news of her running in the rain travel so fast?–covered Elaine's head, then stopped when she noticed the royal insignia on the cape.

  "This is yours?" She asked briskly.

  Andre nodded. "I beg pardon for taking liberties, but the princess was drenched."

  "I shall wash it thoroughly and return it," Winifred said. "Thank you, sir. For helping the princess."

  Effie also glanced curiously at Andre. "Oh!" She exclaimed, pointing at him. "Why, aren't you the newly knighted young man from Tintagel? Sir Andre?"

  Andre put a hand over his heart. "Yes. I am always honored to serve the princess."

  Elaine felt annoyed. They had been friends for such a long time, and he still wouldn't call her by her first name?

  Andre mistook her look of annoyance for her current bedraggled state.

  "Take care, princess." He bowed gracefully and quitted the room. Elaine wanted to ask him how he found her at the Academy in the beginning, but she started sneezing.

  "Achoo! Achoo!"

  "Tell them to bring up a tub of hot water immediately," Winifred ordered. "And what's this thing in her arms? Set it over there--Effie, can you find a basket large enough to accommodate it?"

  "Wait!" Elaine held
on to her machine. "I've got to perform a--achoo--maintenance check. I must get it ready for--achoo--the Exhibition."

  "If you catch the death of a cold, you won't be able to go to that Exhibition," Winifred said, prying Elaine's fingers away. "Let us take care of you first. Then you take care of that machine."

  "Achoo! Achoo!"

  "There, didn't I tell you? Now get behind the screen."

  "But the Exhibition..."

  "The king'll have our heads if anything happens to you," said Winifred in a don't-argue-with-me tone.

  Elaine sneezed again. She felt like there were a hundred uncovered snuff boxes in the room. Her head was heavy and aching; it felt worse than studying for the final exams at three in the morning.

  Once she took a bath and was dried and dressed, Effie came in with a steaming tray. Winifred made the princess get into bed and tucked a hot water bottle near her feet.

  "Try some chicken soup," Effie coaxed, holding out a spoonful. "You can't get well if you don't eat something nutritious."

  "I don't–" cough, "feel like–" cough, "eating. I'm sick." Elaine snatched up a handkerchief and sneezed. "Damn this cold! I want to get up, dammit!"

  "Don't talk like that," Winifred said, alarmed. "Stay calm, dear. Take the soup and get some rest."

  "Piffle! Manners can go hang!" Elaine wished for a magical pill. She had never felt so badly in her life, not even when she thought she had failed the entrance exam. Not only was her flying machine damaged, but she was also laid up in bed and couldn't do anything! And now, away at the University, Hugo and Fred were probably putting their finishing touches on their invention and started packing for the journey to Linderall. Oh, curse this cold!

  Elaine recovered--gradually, slowly. She was not the best of patients, since her mind was constantly on her machine, making her grumpy and bad-tempered, but as Winifred reminded her, without good health, she could not make the long journey to Linderall. So for the sake of the Exhibition, plus her desire to see James, she repressed the urge to mend the machine immediately and lay back in her pillows, trying not to grimace at the bitter pills Garam prescribed for her cold.

  One day, when Garam finally pronounced her well enough to be up and walking, Bran arrived.

  "Garam told me you should be recovered by now, cousin. How are you feeling?"

  "Completely fine," Elaine said impatiently. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, testing and weighing an titanium cylinder in both hands. "When are Professor Hugo and the rest are leaving for Linderall?"

  "They've gone."

  "Did they decide that I shouldn't go? I can explain to Hugo my machine can fly...wait, gone, did you say?"

  Bran nodded, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Yesterday morning."

  "WHAT?" Elaine sprang up and gripped his shoulders, her eyes round and wide. "They LEFT? Without telling me?"

  "Hugo sent a message." Bran looked everywhere but her face. "He said that with the rain we're having, it was best to set out early. He wanted to tell you, but because you were in bed with such a cold, he thought it best that you get well first."

  "NO!" She couldn't believe that her engineering professor had deserted her. It was too late; he didn't know that she had succeeded taking the machine into air. If only he had been present when she tested it out in the Academy, there was no way he'd have left. Her flying machine would be the talk of the Exhibition. She could definitely win the Grand Prize. That would make her the first female inventor, plus the youngest one, to win. Surely, no one would doubt her career choice as an innovative engineer.

  If only she hadn't gone to that stupid tea party! She wouldn't have forgotten her cherished machine, she wouldn't have left it out in the rain, the machine wouldn't have been ruined and she wouldn't have caught a cold!

  "Kind of a bummer they left you behind," Bran shrugged. "But I can't say I blame them. Knowing your pig-headed determination, you'd run after them regardless of illness. I've studied cases that a person could die of a measly cold that worsens progressively, and I don't want that to happen to you."

  Elaine barely heard. She stared at her flying machine, looking lost, forlorn, vulnerable. Bran used to tease her, but even he couldn't bear to see the light gone from her eyes.

  "There's still the next Exhibition, cousin," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Four years isn't a long time off. Can't you wait until next time?"

  Elaine snorted and shook her head. "In those years, Ralph will make me choose a suitor, or at least I'll have to entertain a lot of them. You've seen how it was at the coronation. I want to have my work displayed at the Exhibition before I'm made to commit to anyone."

  "Isn't there anyone you fancy?"

  She couldn't tell him about Andre. Not when she wasn't sure about what Andre thought of her.

  Bran sighed. "Well, I don't know what I can do, but if there's any way I can help you, just let me know, cousin. Apart from breaking the law," he hastily added.

  At that moment, Effie announced she had another visitor.

  Andre entered the room. So tall was he that he stooped when passing through the door frame. Elaine started, colored, then twisted her fingers together. It was the first time he chose to visit her chambers.

  "Princess. Prince Bran." He made a magnificent bow.

  "You wished to see me?" Elaine said, willing herself not to blush. Not when Bran was present.

  "Yes. To make sure you have recovered," Andre said, his tone courteous, his gaze lingering on her face. "Also, to take leave. I am returning to Tintagel."

  Elaine felt as though a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her head. "You're going home?"

  "I must present to Her Majesty Salome now that I have received my shield."

  Right. Of course he had to go. Salome was his benefactor. She'd be thrilled to see him made champion.

  But still...Elaine looked downwards and scuffed the floor. She actually felt like throwing something against the wall, but she couldn't do it in present of company.

  Everyone was leaving. She wanted to leave as well, to run far, far away from those fawning suitors who cared not a whit for her inventions, and from those gossipy ladies who believed it was time she gave up her 'hobby' and settle down.

  But how? She might be a little daredevil, but she couldn't sneak out of the palace with her machine and go off to Linderall alone. She needed a carriage driver. Sufficient funds. And permission from Ralph–though she highly doubted he would grant it.

  Elaine's gaze fell on her map of the world hanging on the wall.

  An idea struck her. The corner of her mouth curved. In her mind, she started to outline a plan.

  "Oh no," Bran groaned. Lowering his voice, he gestured at Elaine while speaking to Andre. "She has her look on."

  Andre dipped his chin. A slight smile hovered at his lips.

  "Don't you get it?" Bran sounded desperate, as though the world as coming to an end. "When she has the look on, nothing good will come of it."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Elaine hummed a tune as she put a pair of heavy boots into a small trunk. Just minutes earlier, she had begged, wheedled and finally threatened Andre and Bran to accompany her to Linderall.

  "Since you're leaving anyway," she had said, facing Andre, "take me with you."

  Andre froze. Bran, who was downing a glass of water, choked and spluttered.

  "Elaine! What did you just say?" His expression uncannily mirrored Lady Wesley's when she was scandalized by Elaine's childhood pranks.

  "Why, I just said that I wanted to travel with Andre since he's going to Tintagel. Then I can proceed to Linderall. I can still make it to the Exhibition."

  Bran's shoulders relaxed, but the severe look in his eyes remained. "You can't go, it's too dangerous."

  Elaine sighed. She knew he would say that. He usually took her side, but there were times he shared the opinion of the elders. "Fine."

  So she simply turned and pulled out her trusty drawer in the sofa. She produced her dart slinger, insp
ired from Archibald Leventhorpe's journals, perfected in years of experimenting. One pull on the trigger and drugged darts would fly forth.

  "Then I challenge you to a duel. If you win, then I won't go."

  Bran looked flabbergasted. The polished brass tip of the slinger gleamed inches from his nose.

  "Elaine! This isn't a game when the worst that could happen is getting punished by Uncle. I mean, seriously, when was the last time you traveled to Linderall?"

  "Lady Matilda said that a modern princess isn't qualified until she runs away from her gilded cage." Elaine raised her chin defiantly. "Dare you object to her opinion? Besides, I am not going alone. The Academy champion will protect me." She smiled--a dazzling smile, she hoped.

  Bran looked towards Andre. Help, his eyes seemed to plead.

  Andre clenched his fists and swallowed.

  "Far be it for me to deny her right to attend the Exhibition," he said quietly. "I will guard the princess with my life."

  His voice was low, but underlaid with steel. Was he pledging his life as a subject, or could it be possible he meant more than that?

  Elaine quelled her thoughts; right now, more important matters had to be resolved. She lowered her slinger and caught Bran's arm.

  "Come on, Bran," she said in a playful, coaxing tone. "What's the worst thing that could happen? I can dress up as a boy, that'll attract less attention. Actually, why don't you come along as well? That gorgeous Linderall maiden will be glad to see you. You do want to see her again, don't you?"

  Bran flushed. "Very well," he growled. "But you must post a letter to Linderall. Tell them to send protection to Tintagel. You cannot go to Linderall without an escort."

  "An excellent suggestion. I'll write James and ask him to send Howard. You can't ask for better protection than him--after Lady Matilda and Andre, of course."

  And so Elaine resumed her packing, whistling a tune. She wasn't doing anything wrong--a trip to Linderall was nothing compared to the daring excursions the Academy students did. She wasn't running off to battle ogres, sea monsters and dragons. She had the best protection in flesh and device.