Two Princesses and a Pea

Sarah had a healthy sense of humor, but she had nearly reached her limit. When the toady, hunched groom referred to her as 'another of those blasted princesses', she couldn't help but grin. And when the man servant presented her at court with a river of rainwater still draining from her clothes and hair, she stifled a smirk at the spectacle she must have made. But now, the queen was prodding at her hips and saying, "They're rather too thin. Not proper hips for bearing sons. And her hair is poker straight. With Prince Analdo's curls, their children will look like God knows wha--" "I don't want to marry your son," Sarah snapped, her good will exhausted. "Of course you want to marry the prince. Why else would you be here?" the queen asked. There was an annoying little titter of laughter from the watching court. "Because it's storming. And I got stuck out in it. I'm just looking for a place to stay the night and the loan of some dry clothes." She shivered despite the blazing fire. "Trying to buy more time with Analdo, are you?" The queen winked at her. "No," Sarah said quickly, snatching a quick look at the coveted Prince Analdo. He had a fleshy face and a heavy brow and a general air of disinterest. "I just want--" "Don't worry my dear." The queen lowered her voice and the room grew quieter to hear her. "I can respect a girl with tactics. I've used more than a few tactics to get where I am." Sarah clutched at herself, her teeth audibly chattering, and wondered if she wasn't better off out in the storm. A girl's voice sounded from the back of the hall. "Mother, I hate to interrupt, but I'm afraid that this is a rather egregious breech of protocol." Everyone, including Sarah, turned to see a strawberry-haired girl in a sky-blue gown making her way through the loitering court. "You wouldn't want her to return to...." The girl turned her eyes to Sarah. "...where are you from?" Sarah's heart gave a couple of quick beats. She had a sudden, inexplicable urge to brush her fingers over the freckles on the blue-eyed girl's cheeks. "Savoy," she finally answered, hoping her voice was steady. "You wouldn't want her to return to Savoy and tell her father that she was so ill-treated, as to be presented at court without so much as a moment for her toilet, would you?" The queen looked shaken. She turned to Sarah. "Of course, we mean no insult. We only wish to offer you the finest of hospi--" "Come," the blue-eyed girl Escort Çukurambar said, taking Sarah's hand. Her skin tingled up to the elbow. "Accept our apologies. I have some dry clothes that will fit you. And then we'll present you properly before dinner. # "You must forgive my mother," the blue-eyed girl said, pulling Sarah into a warm, cozy bedchamber with a blazing fireplace. "She's a touch deranged, just now. Get warm by the fire while I fetch towels." She skipped out of the room. The heat from the fire showed Sarah just how cold she really was. She shivered, not wanting to sit on the hearth and have the cold, wet material of her traveling frock touch her any more than necessary. The rain rattled against the windows. In a moment, the girl was back. "I'm Beth." She wrapped Sarah's long braid in a towel and worked the buttons at the back of Sarah's gown. "We have to get you dried off. You'll catch your death." When Sarah's sopping dress fell to the floor, her cheeks grew hot. She wondered if her hips truly were too thin. But that thought slipped away as Beth unfastened her drenched undergarments and stripped them away, as well. The soft, efficient fingers were too distracting. Soon Sarah was wrapped in a large towel and sat on the stone hearth while Beth unbraided her hair and blotted it dry. Sarah tried to ignore the burn in her cheeks and hoped Beth didn't notice her embarrassment. She took a breath. Maybe having a conversation with this kind girl would calm the fluttery bubbling in her stomach. "Is something special going on? I feel like I arrived at a bad time." "It's utter foolishness, that's what it is," Beth said, working a comb through Sarah's hair. "My brother, Analdo, just turned twenty-one. He's officially of marrying age. Princesses have been showing up from all over the region to make their availability known." Beth's voice hushed. "He's my brother and I love him, but he's a bit of a tool. The only reason for all of the excitement is that no male royal comes of age for another ten years." "Oh dear," Sarah said. "What about you?" Beth asked. "How did you happen to be here?" "I was traveling with a troupe of performers--" "Performers?" "Acrobats. They go from village to village and live on the donations from their show. It's very progressive." "I thought you said you were a princess," Beth said. She abandoned her comb and sat next to Sarah on demetevler escort the hearth. Her voice wasn't accusatory so Sarah didn't feel defensive when she answered." "I am. In Savoy. Have you heard of it?" "No." "Savoy, Savoy, never blessed with a boy?" "Nope." "I have twelve sisters. When I asked my father if I could travel incognito and see the world, he couldn't agree quickly enough. I suppose thirteen girls are quite a handful." Beth's face turned wistful. "I wish that I could do that." "I don't see why you can't," Sarah said. "Maybe I could, if I had someone like you as a traveling companion." Their eyes met for a moment and a warmth spread through Sarah's chest. Her ears could have sparked a fire. "Anyway," Sarah said, "my eldest sister is getting married to some Duke so Father called me home. On my way, I got caught in that storm." They fell quiet. Beth returned to Sarah's hair, braiding it and wrapping her fresh braid around her head like a crown, pinning it deftly into place. She lay a stack of garments, including a rose-colored gown, on the hearth. Sarah slipped into the dress, which was lovely but rather low-cut. "Are you ready to go back into the arena?" Beth teased. "Will you be there?" Sarah asked. "Unfortunately." "Then, I'm ready." # "Savoy?" the queen said in an airy way as she watched the servants carve the roast pig. "Is that the dreary little kingdom to the north?" Beth rolled her eyes from across the table and it gave Sarah just enough good humor to answer. "I've never heard it described as dreary, though we are to the north." "I imagine it's cold," Analdo said in his first words to Sarah. "Only in winter," Sarah replied. "What brings you so far from your home unattended?" the queen asked, accepting a plate of food. "I wanted to see the kingdom. I was traveling incognito." Beth smirked an impish grin. "She's an acrobat!" "I thought she was a princess," Analdo said. "She's both," Beth answered. The queen lifted her arched eyebrows. "Really." She sounded neither interested nor approving. Sarah shared a smile with Beth. "Yes, really," she replied, accepting her own plate of food. "That's the problem with this princess business," Analdo said. "If I ask someone to prove that they're an acrobat, she could give me ready evidence. But if I ask her to prove she's a princess, what's the verification?" Beth narrowed her eyes. "Her dikmen escort bayan word isn't sufficient?" "There seem to be more princesses than cockroaches in the kingdom these days," he replied. "Remember the one from yesterday who was covered with red blemishes? And the one last week who passed gas with abandon? Certainly, they can't be real princesses." Sarah looked at Analdo. She was so stunned, she didn't know how to answer. The queen answered before Sarah could compose and answer. "Certainly not!" she said. "Princesses are delicate skinned and boned. They speak barely above a whisper and people strain to hear their wisdom. When she enters a room, it's as soundless as the breeze, but every head still turns. She eats like a bird--" this said as Sarah put an overloaded fork of meat into her famished mouth. Beth noticed and a laugh burst through her nose. The queen turned a cold eye on her daughter. "--and she never snorts." Beth burst out laughing. "Sorry Mother," she said between giggles. "I suppose I'm just not a princess." "If I hadn't borne you myself, I would also wonder," the queen said with an icy edge. "What we need is a test," Analdo announced. Beth looked at him. "A test for what?" "Something to confirm that a maiden is a princess." He turned to his mother. "What would you say is the leading trait of a princess?" She thought a moment. "Without a doubt, sensitivity." "Then I leave it to you to design a trial to confirm a maid's sensitivity," he said to the queen. "Whoever passes the test will become bride to the crown prince." He dropped his napkin on his plate in a dramatic flourish and strode out. The queen's eyes glittered, as if the task ahead of her was the greatest treat she had ever known. Sarah met Beth's eyes. They wore matching looks of concern. # When the queen led Sarah to a guestroom, she noticed that it was on the same short hallway as Beth's room. The idea gave her a tremendous thrill. Beth's sleeping body only a few rooms away from her own, her bright plaits on her snowy pillow, the way she imagined Beth's lips parted when she slept. Sarah shook herself. The queen opened the chamber door and Sarah stepped inside. Then she froze. And stared. The bed--if you could really call it that--was at least twenty mattresses, one piled on top of another. Another twenty featherbeds were stacked atop that. There were at least six overstuffed pillows scattered on the featherbeds. The whole mountain of bedding was at least the height and a half of a full grown man. Someone had carefully placed a ladder against the monstrosity. "What on Earth," Sarah managed. "Your bed for tonight," the queen announced, like it was the most common thing in the world. "Don't you have anything..." Normal?.