Post by Morgan Pendragon on Aug 2, 2012 22:07:43 GMT -5
This is the second novel I've written, and I would love for people to read it. People I trust. Critique is more than welcome, as long as it's constructive. This is an original work, insomuch as any story is original, and what I really need is a few pairs of fresh eyes to help point things out for me.
--Thank You.
The little princess grimaced at the plate in front of her, turning her nose up at the meatloaf and turnips she had been served. Astriana absolutely, positively hated meatloaf and turnips. She pushed her plate away from her across the little table in her playroom, which was a scaled down version of the head table in the Great Hall of the castle. Father had had it made especially for her last birthday.
Around it sat the young Princess Astriana and five of her favorite dolls and stuffed animals. In front of each of the toys was an empty place setting, like the ones Mother set out for fancy state dinners. Maybe Nurse wouldn’t notice if Astriana scraped her lunch onto one of the other plates.
However, before she could even try it, Nurse bustled back into the room. Seeing Astriana’s full plate pushed away from her, utensils crossed primly on top—fork face down, and knife on top, blade turned toward the princess—to signify that the little princess didn’t care to eat, Nurse frowned, the wrinkles in her face deepening with the expression.
“Princess,” Nurse said, wagging a finger in admonishment, “If you don’t eat your lunch, I’ll tell your father that you can’t go to the party tonight, and Rosie made you that pretty dress to wear. Don’t you want to wear your new dress and go to the party?”
“Yes, Nurse,” said Astriana, her voice petulant.
“And watch that tone, young lady. A princess ought to have more respect for her elders.” Nurse was forever scolding. Astriana imagined that she must have scolded all the color our of her hair, and frowned all her wrinkles into being.
“Yes, Nurse,” said Astriana again, trying this time to not sound so annoyed as she pulled her plate back toward herself.
Nurse was the worst. The maid that helped her dress in the morning was her favorite, because she let Astriana do what she wanted, but she was having a baby, and Mother had taken her off the princess’s staff. So, now Astriana had to deal with Nurse, who scolded, exhorted, admonished, warned and lectured with every breath. Most of them were of the ‘for your own good’ variety, but Nurse also seemed to be expert on the correct behavior for a princess in every situation.
Princesses were decorous and seemly young ladies and absolutely did not—in any circumstances what so ever—run, jump, hop or skip. Princesses had a calm, peaceful bearing, and refrained from shouting and loud laughter. Princesses were obedient, kind, and well-mannered, and so they were always on their best behavior, and they never did things like rip their stockings trying to climb trees, get their dresses muddy from digging in the gardens, or keep bugs, toads and grass snakes in the pockets of their pinafores.
Astriana thought that she must be the worst princess in the history of the whole world.
Satisfied with the princess’s behavior for the moment however, Nurse turned and left Astriana in her play room to finish her lunch while she went into the princess’s sleeping chamber to prepare the bed for the princess’s afternoon nap.
Then, Astriana got an idea.
As quietly as the soft-padded, quick-scurrying feet of shrine mice, the princess got down from the table, held out the bottom of her pinafore to form a basket, and dumped her entire plate’s contents into it. Then, after making sure that Nurse was still busy, with her back turned, Astriana went through the open door, down the corridor, and down the stairs into the courtyard garden, where she planned to hide the food under one of the bushes.
She had a door directly down into the gardens in her chambers, but that one was in her sleeping chamber, and she would have had to walk right past Nurse to get to it. Walking down the corridor was a little risky, since if any servants saw her alone in the castle, with a pinafore full of food, Mother and Father were sure to hear about it, and then she’d get in trouble.
She had made it into the garden, and was looking up at her own windows, to see if Nurse had missed her yet, and whether she could see Astriana, when she bumped into something very hard, and fell over, landing with an oomph. She felt the mushy food making a big mess of her pinafore, and she knew that she’d never hear the end of it once Nurse got a look at her.
Princesses were supposed to eat their food, not wear it.
Astriana looked up to see what she had bumped, and found that it was a someone, rather than a something. The girl was very tall with short strawberry blonde hair, broad shoulders, a lanky build, and more freckles than Astriana had ever seen on one person before. Astriana thought that those freckles looked like the stars at night, and she wondered if the girl could see pictures in them, like Marc told her were in the stars.
The tall girl’s clothes were very nice, although not of the style Astriana was used to seeing on her mother and the other fine ladies of Emprealia. But, her movements were awkward, and she moved in them as though she were unused to such finery. She leaned down over the princess, extending a rough, squarish hand with long fingers.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I, little one? I’m sorry for not watching where I was going. Here, let me help you up.” The girl’s voice was very kind, and Astriana, who was normally shy around strangers, liked her at once. Not only was she pretty with all those little dots all over her, but she talked to Astriana differently than everyone else.
Astriana took the girl’s hand, and pulled herself up. She didn’t know what to think of this girl. She had apologized even though it hadn’t been her fault, but Astriana was used to Nurse fussing over every bump and bruise like it was a broken bone, and then scolding her for not being more careful.
“I’m not hurt,” Astriana said. “I’m Astra—Aster—Ana. I’m Ana. Don’t tell Nurse I’m here, or she won’t let me go to the party.” Rosie had made her the most beautiful dress, in pale and paler pink with ruffles all over, and had even dyed her old white slippers to match it.
The girl smiled at the princess. “I’m Ciela, and I wouldn’t dream of telling Nurse,” she promised solemnly, “but tell me, why did you run away from her in the first place?”
The princess looked down at her soiled pinafore, and luckily, nothing had gotten on her actual dress, so maybe she would be safe from Nurse’s wrath. Once she was certain that she had spared herself the worst of the mess, she answered the girl’s question.
“She wanted to give me meatloaf and turnips for lunch,” she said with a disgusted expression, “and I hate meatloaf and turnips really a lot, so I ran away to hide them out here.”
The tall girl considered a minute before speaking. “Well, Ana, you know someone worked very hard to plant those turnips, and grow them,” she said, her voice calmer than Nurse’s would have been, and yet somehow still a little stern, “and someone else had to raise the animal for the meat. Somebody else had to bring the turnips and meat to the city, and someone else had to work hard to cook them and bring them to you. When you eat your food, it’s like you’re saying thank you for everyone’s hard work. When you don’t eat it, you’re telling them that their hard work was for nothing.”
“Will that make them angry?”
“Maybe not angry. I don’t think anyone could be angry with you, but I think it would make them sad. Everyone works hard for you to be happy, and you don’t even eat it to tell them thank you. I know if I did something for someone, and they didn’t tell me thank you, I would feel sad.”
“I’ve certainly never looked at it like that before,” chimed in a new voice, before Astriana could say anything else. Both the tall girl and the princess turned to see a golden-haired boy walking towards them, his own clothes pristine.
“Marc!” Astriana smiled and ran to her brother, who took one look at the state of her clothes and shook his head at her.
“Astriana, you’re filthy. And you nearly gave your nurse a heart attack. You need a bath and a nap. That is, if you’re done lecturing my sister.” The prince glared at the tall girl in a way that showcased every moment he’d been tutored and instructed in the ways of kingliness.
“Yes, Prince Marcurus. I’m sorry. I overstepped.” The tall girl looked down at her feet, her easy smile gone, and her face brilliantly red as she blushed.
“Marc, don’t be mean to her. She’s nice. She wasn’t going to tell Nurse I didn’t eat my lunch,” said the little princess as her brother led her away by the hand. As they reached the door back into the palace, Astriana turned and waved at her new friend. “Good bye, Ciela! I hope I get to see you at the party tonight.”
Astriana woke puzzling over her dream. What kind of weird dream was that? Or was it a memory? It must be stress getting to her again. She had hardly had a decent night’s sleep since Father had taken ill, and now even when she did, she kept having the same dream.
She shook the weird feeling off, focusing instead on the plan she’d been preparing ever since she and Mother had been sent off to the country house following Father’s death. She took a deep breath to try and wake herself up all the way, so she could distance herself from the dream. She reminded herself that she wasn’t three anymore, she was seventeen, and she had something very important to do.
She went to her window first and parted the curtains just the tiniest bit. It was still dark outside, perfect. She checked the bottom drawer of her wardrobe, underneath her stays and bloomers, and was relieved to see that the set of clothes she’d taken from the kitchen boy—leaving five gold coins in their place, more than a fair price—was still there. It might have been a little hard to explain why a princess had in her possession clothing more fit for the kitchen boy than for someone of her station.
She got dressed surprisingly quickly, glad to find there was a positive tradeoff for how naked her legs felt clad in only breeches and holey stockings. The lack of stays was equally odd, but off-set by the length of cotton she wound around herself to give herself a more masculine silhouette. She was a little dismayed to find that no matter how she tried, her sandy curls and waves were not completely hidden under the hat. Still, it was the best she could do, and it was dark, so that would help.
Once she was dressed, she grabbed her boots, packed a bag with two of her travelling dresses and tiptoed through the house in her stocking feet, careful to mind the squeaky places in the floor. As this was an old country manor her family used to summer in when she was young, the squeaky places were numerous and cacophonous. Honestly, the princess believed that old, wooden floor boards were better than any anti-thievery charm could ever hope to be.
Her heavy riding boots were clutched closely to her chest, since she was lighter-footed without them. The last thing she wanted was to go clomping and thumping a squeaking through the house in the middle of the night, and have to explain her appearance.
She went down the back stairs that ran from the end of the corridor down to the kitchen, the ones used by the servants and which she had been expressly forbidden to set foot upon. After listening a moment at the kitchen door to make sure no one was yet puttering about to make breakfast for her or Mother, she slipped out of the narrow stairway and into the kitchen.
She added some food to the bag she had packed before, feeling slightly guilty that she couldn’t afford to leave some of her allowance behind in exchange. After that, it was into the stables where her horse, a sweet-tempered palomino called Honeysuckle, was kept alongside the queen’s regal black horse, Portia.
She saddled and bridled Honeysuckle quickly and rode her only over the next hill, still barefoot, until the manor house was no longer in view. Then she deftly dismounted, taking care to plant her feet only on an exposed outcropping of bare rock. It had rained last night so Honeysuckle’s hoof marks should be fairly conspicuous in the soft ground.
“Alright girl,” She said, looking the horse in the eye and patting her neck. “I need you to run. Lead them away from me. I’ll come for you afterwards, I promise,” Astriana said, willing Honeysuckle to understand.
She took her sack of food and clothing carefully slinging it over her back, and then sent Honeysuckle off with a swat on the rear. The palomino mare took off, running towards Emprealia, and leaving very clear tracks, just as Astriana had hoped she would.
Once the horse was out of sight, Astriana looked around to see how much time she had left. Rosy daylight was just beginning to creep into the edges of the gray pre-morning, and the birds were just beginning to stir.
Her absence would be discovered soon. She thought about a place she’d played as a child when she’d been allowed to leave the city. Maybe an hour’s travel outside the gates. She pictured it very clearly in her mind, every blade of grass because it was important that she remember it as best she could. Then, just as the pink of dawn truly broke the horizon, she willed herself there, leaving this place behind her. As the teleport began to take effect, she whispered, “Goodbye, Mother.”
Maybe they wouldn’t be able to find her.
For the sake of her kingdom, she hoped so.
--Thank You.
Prologue
The little princess grimaced at the plate in front of her, turning her nose up at the meatloaf and turnips she had been served. Astriana absolutely, positively hated meatloaf and turnips. She pushed her plate away from her across the little table in her playroom, which was a scaled down version of the head table in the Great Hall of the castle. Father had had it made especially for her last birthday.
Around it sat the young Princess Astriana and five of her favorite dolls and stuffed animals. In front of each of the toys was an empty place setting, like the ones Mother set out for fancy state dinners. Maybe Nurse wouldn’t notice if Astriana scraped her lunch onto one of the other plates.
However, before she could even try it, Nurse bustled back into the room. Seeing Astriana’s full plate pushed away from her, utensils crossed primly on top—fork face down, and knife on top, blade turned toward the princess—to signify that the little princess didn’t care to eat, Nurse frowned, the wrinkles in her face deepening with the expression.
“Princess,” Nurse said, wagging a finger in admonishment, “If you don’t eat your lunch, I’ll tell your father that you can’t go to the party tonight, and Rosie made you that pretty dress to wear. Don’t you want to wear your new dress and go to the party?”
“Yes, Nurse,” said Astriana, her voice petulant.
“And watch that tone, young lady. A princess ought to have more respect for her elders.” Nurse was forever scolding. Astriana imagined that she must have scolded all the color our of her hair, and frowned all her wrinkles into being.
“Yes, Nurse,” said Astriana again, trying this time to not sound so annoyed as she pulled her plate back toward herself.
Nurse was the worst. The maid that helped her dress in the morning was her favorite, because she let Astriana do what she wanted, but she was having a baby, and Mother had taken her off the princess’s staff. So, now Astriana had to deal with Nurse, who scolded, exhorted, admonished, warned and lectured with every breath. Most of them were of the ‘for your own good’ variety, but Nurse also seemed to be expert on the correct behavior for a princess in every situation.
Princesses were decorous and seemly young ladies and absolutely did not—in any circumstances what so ever—run, jump, hop or skip. Princesses had a calm, peaceful bearing, and refrained from shouting and loud laughter. Princesses were obedient, kind, and well-mannered, and so they were always on their best behavior, and they never did things like rip their stockings trying to climb trees, get their dresses muddy from digging in the gardens, or keep bugs, toads and grass snakes in the pockets of their pinafores.
Astriana thought that she must be the worst princess in the history of the whole world.
Satisfied with the princess’s behavior for the moment however, Nurse turned and left Astriana in her play room to finish her lunch while she went into the princess’s sleeping chamber to prepare the bed for the princess’s afternoon nap.
Then, Astriana got an idea.
As quietly as the soft-padded, quick-scurrying feet of shrine mice, the princess got down from the table, held out the bottom of her pinafore to form a basket, and dumped her entire plate’s contents into it. Then, after making sure that Nurse was still busy, with her back turned, Astriana went through the open door, down the corridor, and down the stairs into the courtyard garden, where she planned to hide the food under one of the bushes.
She had a door directly down into the gardens in her chambers, but that one was in her sleeping chamber, and she would have had to walk right past Nurse to get to it. Walking down the corridor was a little risky, since if any servants saw her alone in the castle, with a pinafore full of food, Mother and Father were sure to hear about it, and then she’d get in trouble.
She had made it into the garden, and was looking up at her own windows, to see if Nurse had missed her yet, and whether she could see Astriana, when she bumped into something very hard, and fell over, landing with an oomph. She felt the mushy food making a big mess of her pinafore, and she knew that she’d never hear the end of it once Nurse got a look at her.
Princesses were supposed to eat their food, not wear it.
Astriana looked up to see what she had bumped, and found that it was a someone, rather than a something. The girl was very tall with short strawberry blonde hair, broad shoulders, a lanky build, and more freckles than Astriana had ever seen on one person before. Astriana thought that those freckles looked like the stars at night, and she wondered if the girl could see pictures in them, like Marc told her were in the stars.
The tall girl’s clothes were very nice, although not of the style Astriana was used to seeing on her mother and the other fine ladies of Emprealia. But, her movements were awkward, and she moved in them as though she were unused to such finery. She leaned down over the princess, extending a rough, squarish hand with long fingers.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I, little one? I’m sorry for not watching where I was going. Here, let me help you up.” The girl’s voice was very kind, and Astriana, who was normally shy around strangers, liked her at once. Not only was she pretty with all those little dots all over her, but she talked to Astriana differently than everyone else.
Astriana took the girl’s hand, and pulled herself up. She didn’t know what to think of this girl. She had apologized even though it hadn’t been her fault, but Astriana was used to Nurse fussing over every bump and bruise like it was a broken bone, and then scolding her for not being more careful.
“I’m not hurt,” Astriana said. “I’m Astra—Aster—Ana. I’m Ana. Don’t tell Nurse I’m here, or she won’t let me go to the party.” Rosie had made her the most beautiful dress, in pale and paler pink with ruffles all over, and had even dyed her old white slippers to match it.
The girl smiled at the princess. “I’m Ciela, and I wouldn’t dream of telling Nurse,” she promised solemnly, “but tell me, why did you run away from her in the first place?”
The princess looked down at her soiled pinafore, and luckily, nothing had gotten on her actual dress, so maybe she would be safe from Nurse’s wrath. Once she was certain that she had spared herself the worst of the mess, she answered the girl’s question.
“She wanted to give me meatloaf and turnips for lunch,” she said with a disgusted expression, “and I hate meatloaf and turnips really a lot, so I ran away to hide them out here.”
The tall girl considered a minute before speaking. “Well, Ana, you know someone worked very hard to plant those turnips, and grow them,” she said, her voice calmer than Nurse’s would have been, and yet somehow still a little stern, “and someone else had to raise the animal for the meat. Somebody else had to bring the turnips and meat to the city, and someone else had to work hard to cook them and bring them to you. When you eat your food, it’s like you’re saying thank you for everyone’s hard work. When you don’t eat it, you’re telling them that their hard work was for nothing.”
“Will that make them angry?”
“Maybe not angry. I don’t think anyone could be angry with you, but I think it would make them sad. Everyone works hard for you to be happy, and you don’t even eat it to tell them thank you. I know if I did something for someone, and they didn’t tell me thank you, I would feel sad.”
“I’ve certainly never looked at it like that before,” chimed in a new voice, before Astriana could say anything else. Both the tall girl and the princess turned to see a golden-haired boy walking towards them, his own clothes pristine.
“Marc!” Astriana smiled and ran to her brother, who took one look at the state of her clothes and shook his head at her.
“Astriana, you’re filthy. And you nearly gave your nurse a heart attack. You need a bath and a nap. That is, if you’re done lecturing my sister.” The prince glared at the tall girl in a way that showcased every moment he’d been tutored and instructed in the ways of kingliness.
“Yes, Prince Marcurus. I’m sorry. I overstepped.” The tall girl looked down at her feet, her easy smile gone, and her face brilliantly red as she blushed.
“Marc, don’t be mean to her. She’s nice. She wasn’t going to tell Nurse I didn’t eat my lunch,” said the little princess as her brother led her away by the hand. As they reached the door back into the palace, Astriana turned and waved at her new friend. “Good bye, Ciela! I hope I get to see you at the party tonight.”
→→→☼←←←
Astriana woke puzzling over her dream. What kind of weird dream was that? Or was it a memory? It must be stress getting to her again. She had hardly had a decent night’s sleep since Father had taken ill, and now even when she did, she kept having the same dream.
She shook the weird feeling off, focusing instead on the plan she’d been preparing ever since she and Mother had been sent off to the country house following Father’s death. She took a deep breath to try and wake herself up all the way, so she could distance herself from the dream. She reminded herself that she wasn’t three anymore, she was seventeen, and she had something very important to do.
She went to her window first and parted the curtains just the tiniest bit. It was still dark outside, perfect. She checked the bottom drawer of her wardrobe, underneath her stays and bloomers, and was relieved to see that the set of clothes she’d taken from the kitchen boy—leaving five gold coins in their place, more than a fair price—was still there. It might have been a little hard to explain why a princess had in her possession clothing more fit for the kitchen boy than for someone of her station.
She got dressed surprisingly quickly, glad to find there was a positive tradeoff for how naked her legs felt clad in only breeches and holey stockings. The lack of stays was equally odd, but off-set by the length of cotton she wound around herself to give herself a more masculine silhouette. She was a little dismayed to find that no matter how she tried, her sandy curls and waves were not completely hidden under the hat. Still, it was the best she could do, and it was dark, so that would help.
Once she was dressed, she grabbed her boots, packed a bag with two of her travelling dresses and tiptoed through the house in her stocking feet, careful to mind the squeaky places in the floor. As this was an old country manor her family used to summer in when she was young, the squeaky places were numerous and cacophonous. Honestly, the princess believed that old, wooden floor boards were better than any anti-thievery charm could ever hope to be.
Her heavy riding boots were clutched closely to her chest, since she was lighter-footed without them. The last thing she wanted was to go clomping and thumping a squeaking through the house in the middle of the night, and have to explain her appearance.
She went down the back stairs that ran from the end of the corridor down to the kitchen, the ones used by the servants and which she had been expressly forbidden to set foot upon. After listening a moment at the kitchen door to make sure no one was yet puttering about to make breakfast for her or Mother, she slipped out of the narrow stairway and into the kitchen.
She added some food to the bag she had packed before, feeling slightly guilty that she couldn’t afford to leave some of her allowance behind in exchange. After that, it was into the stables where her horse, a sweet-tempered palomino called Honeysuckle, was kept alongside the queen’s regal black horse, Portia.
She saddled and bridled Honeysuckle quickly and rode her only over the next hill, still barefoot, until the manor house was no longer in view. Then she deftly dismounted, taking care to plant her feet only on an exposed outcropping of bare rock. It had rained last night so Honeysuckle’s hoof marks should be fairly conspicuous in the soft ground.
“Alright girl,” She said, looking the horse in the eye and patting her neck. “I need you to run. Lead them away from me. I’ll come for you afterwards, I promise,” Astriana said, willing Honeysuckle to understand.
She took her sack of food and clothing carefully slinging it over her back, and then sent Honeysuckle off with a swat on the rear. The palomino mare took off, running towards Emprealia, and leaving very clear tracks, just as Astriana had hoped she would.
Once the horse was out of sight, Astriana looked around to see how much time she had left. Rosy daylight was just beginning to creep into the edges of the gray pre-morning, and the birds were just beginning to stir.
Her absence would be discovered soon. She thought about a place she’d played as a child when she’d been allowed to leave the city. Maybe an hour’s travel outside the gates. She pictured it very clearly in her mind, every blade of grass because it was important that she remember it as best she could. Then, just as the pink of dawn truly broke the horizon, she willed herself there, leaving this place behind her. As the teleport began to take effect, she whispered, “Goodbye, Mother.”
Maybe they wouldn’t be able to find her.
For the sake of her kingdom, she hoped so.