Olive left her soft, well-worn shoes which, surprisingly, fit her when she put on the thick hose, which she rolled up to her knees. A minute later Olive yelled through the door that breaking of fast will be served in five minutes.
Zoë yelled back, “Thanks Olive, I’ll be there in a jiffy. I mean soon.” As an after thought she asked,” Where is the… err, Albert?” She almost slipped and she winced. Opening the door she smiled and the woman told her that Albert was seeing to his horse and would join them. She snorted inwardly. What was it about men and horses? What was she, chopped liver? She was right there for the taking, and he only thought about his horse! If the prince ever wanted to see her naked… he better adjust his attitude a mite.
As she walked down the stairs, still feeling shunned, her mind shifted into overdrive and Zoë recalled the prince’s nude body that seemed to have been branded on her brain. Suddenly she felt ashamed for gazing at his undressed state, and then she wondered what was happening to her. The male body was no secret and she did, and still does enjoy the sight of the opposite sex in the all together. She sighed and felt as if she had two personalities. That notion made her pause and she pondered whether that was a possibility. Was she not only sharing another’s body but the thoughts and mannerisms of the characters also? Or had she suddenly developed a nagging conscience? Neither idea pleased her in the least! Gaud, she wanted to wake up in the worst way.
Why me? Sheesh, you sound pathetic, she scolded herself. Buck up! So, again she put worrisome thoughts in the back of her mind smelling the aroma of something delicious. Reaching the landing, she was greeted by Clive.
“Morning tide, Mistress Zoë,” he said but then his mouth dropped seeing her wearing his son’s clothes.
Zoë had to assume that it brought back memories of when he first met Olive and she giggled, “Morning Clive,”
“Close ye mouth before ye swallow a fly,” scoffed Olive, but her eyes twinkled with mirth. “’Tis nae the first time ye’ve seen a girl in boy’s clothes!” The woman tried to sound annoyed but her voice was laced with laughter.
“Nay, ‘tisn’t my love,” her husband said and winked.
Zoë smiled and entered the dining area. The other guests simply stared at first then averted their eyes to the food before them. She sat and Albert entered sitting beside her unaware of her boy’s attire.
“Morning pri… err, Albert. Sleep well?” she winked. Was that a blush?
God, but Zoë was tempted to laugh but passed him the bacon instead. Breakfast like supper was set for a king, but she was certain that after two meals here her cholesterol was probably way up over two hundred. She wanted to warn these folks of the danger of eating too much fat but what did it matter because people never had a long life in the century anyway. Since she was in a coma, or whatever, she ate the hot rolls, spread with honey and fruit and washed it down with hot cocoa. Besides, the food was ten times more delicious than any she had ever eaten before, and she might never regain consciousness.
“Mmmm, delicious,” Zoë patted her full tummy. Someone belched. “My sentiments, exactly,” she commented bringing a scowl to Albert’s face. He has just got to use his smiling muscles more often, that’s if he had any, she mused. Oh, well, Rome wasn’t built in a day, she mused. He claimed that they had more traveling to do before they reached his castle. She’d get him to laugh if it killed her. Ha! Now that was a silly thought; because she might be in Limbo already.
If it’s his smile your after, tell him a joke, needled her conscience. I thought it was your body?
What could she answer back, that little voice was right-on!
Zoë continued to sit as he stood and thanked the innkeeper and his wife for their hospitality. They in turn nodded and invited the couple to come back again for another visit. Turning, the prince left her to say her fare-the-wells knowing that she’d follow. She did just that, frowning at his back knowing that she better be careful or she would lose her cheery disposition and smiling muscles too.
Once outside Zoë felt great; it was too nice of a day to stay in a funky mood. The birds sang, the breeze blew warm, and the air smelled fresh and clean. Ah, yes, it was a good day to be alive…or whatever! But, of course nothing good lasts!
As they walked to the barn, she couldn’t refrain herself from admiring his taut butt. Those tights, or whatever they were called, were shameful. They left nothing for one’s imagination, but of course, she didn’t have to stretch her minds eye far to know what lie beneath the fabric. Zoë looked to the heavens for guidance, for she had to act like a proper lady of these times. But she should’ve been watching where she was going, because Albert stopped short and she bumped smack into his hard back.
“Oooff!”
Albert turned and words could never explain the expression on his face and his stare was hot enough to turn water into steam. She groaned knowing what was coming. He didn’t let her down!
“Ye… ye cannot wear that!” He stated in a harsh growl. “Ye try my patience apurpose wearing those unorthodox britches!”
Damn, she’d like nothing better than to knock some of that arrogance out of him! Hands on hips she stared back. “Look here, mister prince! If you don’t like my attire, just leave me behind. I’m tired of your bullying and chauvinistic ways. If you haven’t notice by now, I’m not your typical female! If you only knew the truth about me, you would definitely run for the hills, but all I can say is that I’m not what or who you think I am. Now take me as I am or leave me, the choice is yours. But I am what I am.”
Sheesh, you sound like Popeye.
Her back straight as an explanation point, she marched into the barn.
Albert was in a sour mood for he didn’t sleep well last night and now this! He had been tempted to crawl into bed with the maiden but again he thought better of it. The floor was no more uncomfortable than the forest ground but hearing her soft breathing was a distraction. He had felt her cover him with a blanket, and knew she saw his naked body. Apparently it did not embarrass her in the least because she had winked at him when he joined her at the table and he knew full well why. Had she expected him to sleep with her? Again he felt like a lackwit. He should have grabbed her when he had the chance and made sweet love to her by the hearth. Yer a fool, ten times over. Fie!
He groaned. Fie, what kind of spell had she been put under? But with all her nonsense talk, she looked so beautiful when her eyes lit up and her chest heaved with indignation. Even in boy’s togs she was breath-taken. The white tunic was long-sleeved that fell to her cute derriere. The buff-colored knee breeches ended just below the knee, where thick woolen stockings disguised the slimness of her calves. Aye, she looked cute but he’d never admit to it aloud, that was certain. He would confess though that life with her will never be boring. He recognized defeat when she stared him in the face so he had to be patient. Again, he hoped that the curse would wear off by the time he reached his castle, or he would have to find a good witch to help him. Irritated to no end, Albert marched after her, but fearing he’d strangle the maiden, he stroked the side of his horse’s neck, forcing himself to remain calm. It wasn’t easy, but he’d be damned if he’d take out his frustrations on King!
Zoë saw that he released an unconscious show of affection which was at great odds with the brutal expression on his face.
I believe that ye sliced up his manhood pretty good. Do ye feel better now?
Hey, stay out of my thoughts!
Impossible, replied the little voice, that she knew was not her conscience. Good Golly Miss Molly? Was someone talking to her in her coma? Zoë felt her face drain Albert turned to see her grab hold of the stall and took her by the elbow to steady her. “Are ye all right,” he asked foolishly. “Ye looked as if ye had seen a ghost. I am sorry for being so….”
With a shake of her head, Zoë interrupted the prince. “No, I owe you an apology. I’m very confused and some day I might be able to explain all to you. Right now, I ask you to be patient with me.”
Albert nodded. “I understand.” Of course she believed he did not but he said that he was willing to give his future bride time to feel like herself again. Being poisoned, he admitted was not something to treat lightly, and that she knew he did comprehend. He gazed at her and she saw something foreign in his light eyes; a softness. Or was it lust.
Shameful, bugged the voice in her head again.
Leave me be.
I cannot.
Taking a deep breath, she refused to let the nagging voice unhinge her again and with the prince’s help she climbed up behind him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, something stirred in the pit of her stomach. They rode off into the sunrise and she cared not a wit what that pesky inner voice said.
Chapter Nine
“Mirror, mirror on the wall who is the fairest of them all?”
She spoke to his reflecting glass and when he answered her, she went into a rage. Her black cat, named Curses, because the feline had one green eye, and one blue eye, hissed and darted off the table. The pet knew full well the extent of her mistress’ temper, thought the mirror as well as he.
“Err… um,” it stammered. “S-sorry, my q-queen, but I’m afraid that Snow White is s-still the winner in any beauty c-contest.” Boy, if she isn’t the bitch of all witches!
“She lives!” the bitch screeched. “Unacceptable!” the irate queen screamed and raved, and then threw a silver candle stick missing him. “How is this possible?”
The looking glass gulped. “Well, err, it seems that a handsome prince kissed the girl and she woke up.” It was the truth, he thought, but maybe he should’ve lied. But he had no reason to do so, except save his delicate face.
“Curses! What were the odds of that happening?” she pounded a fist into her palm.
“Probably a thousand to one,” the mirror knew he had answered foolishly.
“That was a rhetorical question, ye moron!”
“Oh, oh,” he shuddered hoping he wouldn’t splinter himself. “Sorry, my queen, ye are still the most beautiful in my eyes,” he said defensively.
“Ye, eyes! Bah! I knew I should’ve traded ye in for a crystal ball when I had the chance!”
So do I, he thought. He was getting too old for this job.
Chapter Ten
Albert and Zoë overlooked the beautiful valley. They had trotted along a high plateau that seemed to stretch endlessly toward the horizon. King then followed a trail until it turned sharply, and opened into a tiny meadow. New grass grew in abundance, dotted with wild flowers. It was breathtaking.
“Just over that hill is my castle,” he informed evenly.
Uncertainty clogged her throat making it impossible to utter a reply. She nodded and Albert nudged his horse forward. What would she find inside those stone walls?
As the saying goes, “a man’s home is his castle,” Zoë mused. And in Albert’s case, it was definitely true; it was very imposing to be sure. His castle rose, spires pricking the skies from behind tall, stout walls. The torches shinning from the square tower beckoned, offering warmth and comfort. Her heart skipped a few beats with anticipation, and her nervousness was laced with joy. Imagine a real castle, muddy moat and all. She always wondered if fish swam in the motes but she thought better of inquiring. If the prince stocked it with anything it was anything it was probably piranhas.
They had spent the last two days traveling the countryside in mutual silence, except for the nights when a light conversation was supplied by Zoë. The prince seemed to be in deep thought most of the time and she made idle talk simply from sheer boredom. She assumed that he was still irked at her attire and shrugged it off as male ego, and let it go at that.
Although, she couldn’t get his disposition to lighten up, she supposed it was better than his scolding her over things she did wrong, and she knew by his frown she had done many. Give me a break, what do I know about this era! Maybe if she had read more Love Novels, she might have a better idea how to handle a prince. Her only hope relied on the women at the castle. She was sure someone could give her a clue on how to behave, short of kissing his ring, of course!
The horse trotted slowly and she inhaled the sweet fragrances of wild flowers noticing again the difference in the air in theses times. Fresh, clean and pure. What she wouldn’t give to be able to bottle it and bring it back to her century. She knew she was thinking foolishly, but her mind has not been, what one would call, “normal,” since this started. Ah, she sighed seeing the blue canopy dotted with chirping birds and hearing the droning of bees. A lark sang in the distance and Zoë believed a day as this could only exist in a story book fantasy tale, one she was in, of course!
Upon arriving at the drawbridge, the prince called to a guard on the catwalk and the wooden planks were lowered with complaints from rusted hinges. The clickly-clack of hoof beats on the wooden boards beat along with the thumping of her heart. Suddenly, her nervousness over took her joy as they entered the courtyard. The gatehouse bristled with armed men and servants, eager to meet their prince ran to greet them. The women curtsied and the men bowed.
“Yer highness,” a male youth said as he grabbed the reins, “’Tis good to see ye home safe, milord.”
Albert nodded and dismounted. He ruffled the lad’s bushy crop of bright red hair saying that is was good to be back and then he requested,. “Henry, see that King gets a good rub down and oats.”
“Aye, milord.” But he could only stare bug-eyed at her atop of the horse.
Albert chuckled and said, “This is Sno--err, Zoë White.” He circled her waist and helped her down. “She will soon be yer mistress. Now close yer mouth before ye swallow a fly.”
A round of gasps was heard from the bystanders, which did not surprise her. Henry gulped; he seemed to have lost his voice. Zoë looked about; nothing could have prepared her for this. Amazing, simply amazing how the courtyard was so clean. Servants gathered in a knot giving her the once over, whispering to one another. What did they think of her? For some strange reason it was important that they liked her. By the nod of each head and their smiles, she felt she had past her first test. She heard someone whisper that their master had certainly brought home a princess. And it was about time he finally found his true love. She had to smile thinking that she just won a beauty pageant and Burt Parks was singing, Here she comes…
“Come,” Albert presented her his arm interrupting her fantasy and she accepted; now feeling a bit relaxed. But what lay ahead, nagged her inner voice. After walking up stone steps Zoë found herself in a large room. More servants scattered about, bowing and curtsying. A low fire glowed in a big brick fireplace and a woman was stirring something in a big black pot. A witch’s brew came to mind and she knew if the servant turned with a large wart on her nose, she would definitely run. In the middle of the room sat a long wooden table where a middle aged man sat.
Albert took a few steps but Zoë hesitated. “’Tis all right, he is my uncle and resides with me. I know he looks as if he could eat little girls,” he smiled faintly to take the insult out of his words,” but Garfield is harmless.”
Zoë tried to swallow her laugh, which was a mistake, since it came out as an exceedingly inelegant sputter. The man reminded her of that orange cat in the funny papers. His hair was the color of fresh steamed carrots, and he carried most of his weight around his stomach. The face was flat with a thin, droopy mustache that looked like cat whiskers and when the mouth smiled the teeth took up all his face making him a cross between Garfield and the cat in Alice in Wonderland.
Well why not? She felt like she had fell down a black hole and like Alice found herself in a strange land, so it stood to reason everything here was part of her silly imagination. Any moment she suspected the queen of hearts would come in yelling, “Off with their heads!” She was fairly sure she was unable to wipe the humor out of her eyes just thinking about that.
Humor at a time like this, taunted her conscience.
Maybe she had lost her head, at least her mind!
“Un
cle, may I present Zoë White.”
Not too gently, the prince shoved her forward snapping her out of her silly musings. Annoyed, she turned giving him a peevish glance over her shoulder. His expression turned placid as if this was no big deal. Upon turning back she plastered a smile on her face and curtsied. With difficulty, she bit back a scalding remark, there was no sense in being rude, she needed all the allies she could get, even though this uncle of Albert’s did look as if he would like to chew her up and spit her out. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled it.
“Happy to meet you,” she said lying convincingly.
Garfield studied her intently and said, . “Well, my boy,” he chuckled. “Ye have finally found yerself a true princess, a prize whilst ye were away.” He waved her forward. “Come here child my eyes are nae what they used to be.”
“There is naught wrong with ye eyes uncle,” said Albert “Do nay gainsay the woman by pretending to have poor vision; she is nae yer typical female and nae easily fooled. Besides, I am sure she is tired and would like to bathe before we sup.”
Garfield laughed. “Ye cannot blame an old man for trying,” he winked at her. “I am looking forward to dine with ye, Mistress White.”
“It will be my pleasure,” she said sweetly.
Garfield snapped his finger and immediately an elderly wench came forward. “Aye my siege.”
“Take the child to the east chamber guest room and,” again he gave her the once over, “and see that she is bathed and properly dressed. I am sure my daughter Ileana’s clothes would fit her; they appear to be similar in size.”
The servant nodded, “Aye, milord. Come child.”
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