Authors: V. Ashenden

A Tale of Two Princesses (23 page)

Court turned in his bed, but then he did a double take, staring at the wardrobe. He climbed up, finding his burned jacket hanging from the door. The back had been patched, though he could still see the oval of the burn. Of course, he could never wear it again, not in public. For a prince to wear a repaired garment would be laughable. But still, he knew Sienna must have found it, must have done this, and it touched him, made him smile, lifted his heavy heart. He put it on. It smelled nice. She had even laundered it.

He left his room and descended the steps, finding his knights drinking and relaxing. They immediately stood, bowing.

"Men, please, as you were," he said. "Mr. Banyan?"

"Yes, your highness? A drink?"

"No. Where is your niece, the stable girl, Sienna?"

"To bed, I imagine."

"Where does she stay?"

"The stables."

"There's a room in the stables?" he said.

"She prefers to sleep there with the horses. That's her way."

"I see. She's there now?"

"I expect so. Has she done something wrong? I'll bring her in if you'd like. You can punish her if she has, with my apologies."

"No, of course not. I only wanted to thank her. She mended my jacket for me."

"Oh. Mending is just another service we provide, nearly free of charge, your highness."

Court sighed, shaking his head. "Pay him, Wellington."

Court left, traveling to the barn and passing through the door. He looked around but could see nothing other than the ten stalls. Where on earth did she stay? There was no room for someone to sleep in here. He must have misunderstood Banyan, but he stopped by to see Striker anyway.

"Good evening, Striker," he said, reaching into the stall and patting his muzzle. "How are...Sienna?"

Sienna was in the stall, right there on the floor, lying in the straw, covered with a blanket.

"Sienna?" he said. "Sienna, are you okay?" He jumped the gate, kneeling down over her, shaking her. "Sienna? Sienna!"

She started, sitting up, her blanket falling away, showing the dirty slip she slept in. "Oh! Court! What are you doing here?"

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, of course." She shyly grabbed her blanket and pulled it up past her chest, all the way to her chin. "What, um, what are you doing in here?"

"I, I was looking for you, actually. Forgive me, I didn't mean to intrude. Do you sleep here?"

"Yes."

"In the same stall as my horse?"

"Well, it's usually my stall, but we're all full, so I had to share."

"What if he steps on you?"

"I asked him not to."

"But where's your room?"

"Um, you're in my room."

"But, but a stall is no place for a person to sleep!"

"Uncle says if it's good enough for the horses, it's good enough for me."

"Oh, my word."

Sienna stood up, wrapping her blanket around her shoulders to cover herself. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to intrude on your horse. I can sleep somewhere else tonight."

"What? No, of course not. Please, sleep wherever you like. I only came to talk to you."

"Oh. Is something wrong? Do you need anything? Did her highness not like the flowers? Did I not clean your room well?"

"No, it's nothing like that. I came to thank you for mending my jacket."

"Oh! You came all the way out here to thank me?" She smiled so softly and so genuinely it seemed to cut right through him, tugging at his heart. "You are so sweet, your highness. I am so, so honored if it pleased you. Really, I'm glad to be of service."

"You have my thanks. Might I repay you with some coins?"

"No, no, of course not. Please, I couldn't think of taking anymore from you."

"Well, I feel I must do something."

"Your highness, you already tipped me. And you saved my life. You even saved my chastity. I don't need anything more in return."

"I see. I'll leave you alone then."

"Okay. Thank you again, sir."

"Of course," he said, opening the gate and passing through it, re-securing the rope. "Perhaps I'll see you in the morning."

She nodded. "Yes, sir. If you need anything, anything at all, I'm at your service."

He took a few steps away but then turned back. "Oh, and the princess loved the flowers."

Sienna smiled. "Did she? I'm so happy to hear that. That makes my day."

Court smiled back. "Goodnight, Sienna."

Chapter Fifteen

The Proposal

Court stretched as he climbed out of bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He opened his window. It was still dark, the sky ready to call the sun. Then he saw a figure moving across the grass, someone with short hair and a small frame, entering the henhouse along the barn.

"Here, chicky, chicky, chickies," the faint voice said. The hens squawked. "Look at how many eggs today, Henny! You're so big. Don't get too big or uncle will gobble you up. And, Henrietta, you fox. You've been pecking again, haven't you? That won't do."

Court chuckled, sitting on the window sill, watching Sienna in the distance.

"Henona, you come back here! You've got an egg in there, and I'll chase you until I get it out if I have to! Oh, quiet down, Henlin, you noisy gossip; you'll wake someone."

With all her eggs collected, Sienna put the basket under her arm and skipped across the grass, humming, disappearing around the side of the tavern. Court climbed up, dressing in his pants and shirt and slipping into his mended jacket. In the hall, he found Finn on duty.

"Sir, you're awake," Finn said.

"Morning, Finn," Court said. "Yes, a bit early. Too many dreams."

"Shall I come with you?"

"No. Why don't you turn in?"

"And leave you unguarded?"

"If another dragon attacks, I'll wake you."

"Yes, sir."

Court descended the stairs, entering the tavern. It was completely empty. Everyone was asleep at this early hour, almost everyone. He could hear humming. He moved around the bar, pushing open the door to the kitchen. Sienna was leaning over the counter, scrubbing it with a brush, the milk and eggs beside her.

As she bent over, his eyes followed her bare legs up her body. She was still wearing the same dirty, black skirt, with her white blouse tucked into it, along with a black vest over her chest. However, he noticed a large section of her vest had been cut away between her shoulder blades, replaced with a brown patch, clearly taken from some other piece of clothing. It made him furrow his brow.

"Good morning."

"Court!" she said, spinning around, her arm catching the basket of eggs, knocking them to the floor, the shells cracking on impact. "Oh, no!" She put her hands on her head, turning to him, bowing at the waist. "I'm so sorry, your highness." Then she looked down at the eggs. "Oh, no, no." She fell to her knees.

"I'm sorry," Court said, coming around the counter. "It's my fault. I didn't mean to startle you. I'm sure you're not used to people intruding on you so early."

"The eggs. He's going to be so angry."

And then she was crying, just staring down at the dozen cracked eggs, yolk running over the floorboards. Court grabbed a towel and knelt down beside her.

"It's all right. Here, look, we'll clean them up. Your uncle won't even know." He began to wipe them up but it didn't seem to stop her crying.

"I don't have enough eggs," she whimpered. "I only had twelve. He's going to be so angry. There's not going to be any eggs for breakfast. He's going to hit me."

"I see," Court said, and then he lifted her head, his fingers on her chin, her cheeks turning to blush. He took his hand away. "Don't worry, Sienna. We'll tell your uncle a little fib. We'll say the prince came down to the kitchen and asked for a dozen eggs just for himself, the greedy pig, and you gave them to him, because, well, he's the prince and you don't go around refusing princes."

"I, I can't lie to my uncle."

"Then it's not a lie," he said. "Sienna, I need a dozen eggs. May I have these?"

"But they're broken."

"That's how I like them. May I have them?"

She sniffled, her tears disappearing as a smile replaced them. "Yes, your highness."

"Thank you," he said, scooping them up into the trash. He stood and then held out his hand to her. "Come on, off the floor."

She took his hand, climbing up. She was looking into his eyes, but then she seemed to realize she was staring and looked away, wiping her face.

"Is there anything else I can get for you, your highness?"

"No, I think that'll do. Well, actually, I don't know what I want."

"Sorry, your highness?"

"Let me ask you something," he said, leaning against the counter. "You're a woman, aren't you?"

"Thank you for noticing, your highness," Sienna said softly.

He chuckled. "Sorry. My meaning is, if you were a princess, what sort of gift would please you?"

"Flowers, your highness."

"I've already given Princess Celeste flowers. I'd like to bring her something even better today, not that the flowers weren't perfect."

"Hmm," she said, biting her lower lip, her eyes running up. "A dress."

"Pardon? A what? A dress?"

Sienna nodded. "The princess is so beautiful, and I think if you gave her a beautiful dress, she would put it on and dance around in it, even if she doesn't know how to dance, and she'd wear it whenever she wasn't working or anything like that, just to feel pretty."

He smiled. "Yes, women do like to feel pretty, don't they?"

"Yes, your highness."

"Not you though."

"What?"

"I mean, you don't seem to care."

She swallowed. Then she picked up her brush and began scrubbing the counter again. "I don't have time to look pretty."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. I only meant you're rather...relaxed."

"Yes, your highness."

"Well, about the dress," he said. "Do you really think a princess would like such a gift? Would she not already have many dresses?"

"I suppose, your highness," she said, looking up. "But she doesn't have your dress, the one she'll wear whenever she's thinking of you."

"Hmm, perhaps."

"I'm sorry, your highness," Sienna said, returning to her work. "I wish I could be more helpful."

"That's all right," he said. "I'll let you get back to work."

Court headed to the door but Sienna stopped him.

"Your highness?" she called. "It's not the dress that's the real gift; it's how you look at her when she's wearing it. It's the words. Tell her how you feel, tell her you can't be without her, tell her you love her. To hear you say that, that's a priceless gift."

He looked thoughtful and then he nodded. "Thank you, Sienna."

"Yes, your highness."

* * *

"It is a rather...unconventional gift for a prince to present to a princess, sir," Wellington said

"I like it," Court said, climbing off Striker's back. "And Celeste is a rather unconventional princess."

A boy ran up to Court, falling to one knee before jumping back up. "May I watch your horse, your highness?"

"Thank you, young man. Wellington?"

Wellington climbed down, surrendering his reins to the boy, giving him a few silver pieces along with a stern look. "Half now, half upon our return."

"Yes, sir!"

Court passed through the town, looking around. It was a quiet place, with brick houses and a fountain in the midst of the stone roadwork. Everyone bowed at the waist, greeting him. A few women ran up, curtsying and smiling.

"Hello, your highness."

"Yes, yes, hello," he said.

Wellington caught up, coming to his side. "But, sir, a dress? What princess does not have a dress?"

"It's not the dress, it's the words. I give her the dress, and then I tell her how I feel."

"That is not really the proper way for a prince."

Court rolled his eyes, entering the dress shop. There were mannequins wearing the latest fashion, puffy dresses and elegant clothing and more shoes than he had ever seen. The tailor inside bowed.

"Your highness! I am so honored to have you visit my humble shop!"

"Thank you, my good man," Court said. "I'm looking for a dress today. But not any dress, a dress to grace the shoulders of Princess Celeste."

The tailor gasped, putting his hand on his chest. "Sir, I am but a humble tailor. To make a garment for the princess is an honor beyond words."

"Then you'll do it?" Court asked. "I need it soon, tonight. I'll be dining with the princess and I would love for her to wear it."

"If it must be done, it will be done, but what is his highness looking for?"

"Hmm," Court said, holding his chin as he walked through the store. "I think she'll want something elegant."

"Indeed, your highness!" the tailor said.

Court nodded. "Something soft. Silk."

"Not a ball gown, your highness?" the tailor said.

"She has ball gowns. I want something she can wear with me."

"You wish to dress her as a commoner?" Wellington chimed in.

"I wish to dress her to relax her mood. Something...floral. She likes flowers."