There were more empty chairs than usual today.
Dinner was becoming a rather solitary affair, wasn't it? In my memories, I could hear the grandstanding and the laughter as my brothers and sisters fought, argued, laughed, and did something that was a mixture of all three.
That was many years ago now.
A tragic thought, considering I surely wasn't old enough to be able to look back on times gone by. Yet time ran swiftly for royalty. Especially at dinner.
I placed my napkin down on my plate, satisfied at a meal shorn of any wonky carrots, if not the crumbliness of the sweet potatoes.
The plates belonging to my mother and father were long cleared. Clarise was dining alone in the observatory, dabbling as she did in her trinkets and toys. The rest were working. Dinner, still. But working dinners none the less.
My eldest siblings were enamoured with politics, and were thus exempt from our mother and father's fussing. Even without being given the choice, they would dine with the daughters and sons of the Ducal Houses.
Already, there were rumours of factions as influence ebbed and flowed between them.
I didn't believe any of it, of course. In other nations, other kingdoms, perhaps. But not this one. House Contzen did not do in-fighting. Except when Roland let out the most abominable of smells while sharing a carriage with Tristan. Then there was blood. Usually when Mother put a stop to it.
Otherwise, we were well behaved … if not exactly normal.
Yes, even for someone as far removed from normality as I, even I could recognise that what I was seeing in front of me was not normal. And I was not referring to the untouched confit de canard braised with hot oranges. No, that was just eccentric. And disgusting. Please don't ever make it again.
No, what I knew was not normal … was the 14 layer cake that was threatening to either touch the ceiling or collapse the table beneath its weight.
“Did you enjoy today's gratin dauphinois de patates douces, dear?” asked Mother, beaming with excitement as she lowered her teacup. She'd finished drinking it over ten minutes ago. “The spring harvest is truly bearing fruit this year. Everything was delectable.”
Next to her, Father gave a chuckle as he toyed with an orange from the fruit basket. I wondered if that's why they all tasted somewhat shrivelled up.
“The stewards say that this year's yields will be our finest yet,” he said. “The markets will be teeming with people from all across the continent for our seasonal wares.”
I cocked my head and gave a puzzled smile. Wasn't that what the stewards said last year? And the year before last?
If so, it'd mean that quantity was truly no replacement for quality. What good was more food if I could only stomach less of it? The bourguignon d'agneau was overdone, the gougeres were dry and the oeufs en meurette were the consistency of tepid pond water. How could I live in these conditions?
Why, if I didn't know better, I'd almost say that the food tasted ... old. It's a wonder I was still alive!
“That brings joy to my heart,” I replied, pushing my semi-emptied plate away. A maid immediately scooped it up and retreated to the kitchens. “Our beautiful kingdom can only be made richer still by the presence of so many curious visitors experiencing the fruits of our labours.”
“Well spoken, my dear. Wealth begets wealth. Ours is a prosperous land. And it is only both wise and fair that it's enjoyed by people across every realm.”
My father smiled with unabashed enthusiasm. I couldn't help but smile in return. Even though I knew that we were simply avoiding the main subject here.
The extremely gaudy 14 layer cake smothered in cream and strawberries.
“Mother, Father.” I let out a small cough. “The cake. I can't help but notice that the maids began assembling it during dinner.”
“Oh, goodness, did you notice?” said Mother, looking sheepish. “I hope it didn't ruin the surprise. I actually hoped that the construction process would have been rather more discreet.”
“No, Mother, they were very discreet. Why, when the topmost layer began toppling over, I barely noticed as three of the maids locked arms to prevent a collapse, while another utilised a halberd from the wall to lodge it back into position.”
My mother let out a sigh of relief.
“Good, good. Then I suppose it hasn't all been to waste.”
“That would depend. The question needs to be asked. Why, Mother and Father, do we have such an extravagant cake prepared?”
“For you, of course!”
Both Mother and Father smiled at me. I smiled back, as all my tutelage taught me. I was quite proud of this. Because inside, I wasn't smiling. Oh no. Not at all. I was peering down a chasm as wide as the ground once this table inevitably collapsed under the weight of this cake.
Because as certain as the fact that all the maids had conspicuously retreated from the hall, a cake on a day where no cake should be served was the guillotine for my good, if slightly strange day.
“I see.” I swallowed. Hard. “Thank you. It looks wonderful.”
“You're very welcome, dear. The strawberries are your favourite variety. And the cream was only whipped minutes before the cake was assembled.”
“Yes, the gleam is very enticing. However, I must apologise. The occasion has completely evaded me. If I may be so bold as to ask, why are you gifting me with such a luxurious cake, topped with my favourite strawberries and freshly whipped cream?”
My mother elbowed my father, who elbowed my mother, who kneed my father, who shouldered my mother, who headbutted my father.
“My dear,” said Father, his eyes spinning slightly. “Do you remember Duke Hallingsey?”
“I do. He visited two years ago. His beard left a strange trail on the floor as he walked. I could not tell whether it was hair or something living inside it.”
“That's the fellow! And what do you think about his son?”
“I'm afraid I didn't meet him. He was, if I recall, too busy introducing himself to the statues in the gardens. Should I ask them if he was charming?”
My father's smile quivered momentarily. I couldn't tell if he was struggling to maintain his forced expression, or if I'd simply said something to actually amuse him.
“Darling,” said Mother. “Duke Hallingsey's son is a worthy match for you. Although it's true that in the past he was known for his eccentricities, he has been tempered into a fine young man. Just as you are a fine young lady. All we're asking for is a meeting.”
“A meeting.”
“Yes.”
“Just a meeting?”
“Just a meeting. And also marriage plans.”
“I see. Thank you, Mother and Father. It's as you say, the son of Duke Hallingsey is a fine match. I will, of course, consider this meeting in due course. Once I've made my decision, I'll inform you immediately.”
I nodded, smiled, and rose from my—
Rose from my—
Rose from—
I looked down.
Hmm. Interesting. I wasn't rising from my seat.
Despite my legs clearly working to eject me from this chair, the fact remained that I was firmly stuck to it. Only the chair itself moved, its heavy wooden frame budging by approximately half an inch as I forced my muscles to push against what felt like a wall.
I smiled at my parents.
“Why am I stuck to this chair?”
Mother leaned forwards and cut a small slice of cake. She placed it over a plate, considered me, then began nibbling on the end instead.
A wise choice. Offering me the cake would have been offering me a weapon.
“A troll caravan visited the villa earlier. They touted us a new invention created by the greatest minds of the Mage's Guild. The traders called it … what was it, darling?”
“Super glue.”
“Yes, that's it. Super glue. Its efficacy is stunning, wouldn't you say? It creates an unbreakable bond between almost any material. Why, we even managed to fix the crookedness of your grandfather's portrait. It no longer tilts on its own.”
Crank. Crank. Crank.
I scraped the chair across the marble floor as I forced it to move one chair leg at a time.
“Yes, highly impressive,” I replied. “Almost as much as your attempts to marry me off.”
“Really, dear!” said Mother. “There could be worse matches. If Duke Hallingsey's son isn't quite your cup of tea, then there's also—”
“Neither Clarise nor Florella are married. And Roland and Tristan's engagements are indefinitely postponed.”
“Your brothers and sisters are working hard to secure the future prospects of this kingdom in their own ways, dear. It's not necessary for them to remove themselves from a table they may still use for their advantage.”
“I can do that when I'm older. The same as them. Why is this being discussed now? What is this about? This is quite clearly out of the blue. Your last attempts to marry me off at least came with a hint of subtlety.”
“Oh? You actually knew?” Mother's eyes lit up with triumph as she turned to Father. “You see? I told you she wasn't tone deaf to social nuance. She was just being difficult.”
“I'm not tone deaf and I'm not difficult,” I said, continuing to noisily slide my chair towards the nearest door. “Now, why are we, and I mean the both of you, suddenly seeking a marriage arrangement for me?”
My mother looked at my father. This was all the bad news she was willing to give.
“We're bankrupt,” he cheerfully said, before accepting a piece of the cake being offered by my mother. “Gosh, we overpaid for these strawberries, didn't we?”
“Dry as a wicker basket. I told you so, darling.”
“I apologise. Next time, do ignore me if I try to go with my gut instincts. You need to be more incessant.”
“I try. But you've failed so much with your gut instincts that you're always convinced the next will be correct.”
“Well, a streak has to break at some point, doesn't it?”
“Mother! Father!”
I slammed my palms down on my thighs. I could hear the glue setting even further. My regret was deep.
“How are we bankrupt?! Do you mean to say that we're … that we're … poor?!”
Father nodded as he slid a crystal glass of amber wine towards himself.
I almost fainted on the spot. Although I wasn't sure how much of it was due to physical exertion. Chairs were remarkably heavy.
“The truth is that the previous years have been rather difficult for the kingdom, dear. The promised crop yields never materialised. Ships have ceased to trade at our ports owing to the pirates in our straits. Rival criminal syndicates plague the capital and monsters stalk the open roads, all the while our soldiers must stand vigilant against the continued skirmishes on our eastern border. Our forests are beset with unfathomable snow and a hole into the abyss has been discovered in our mines. Oh, and Duke Valence is in open revolt. Really, it's been one thing after another. We've done what we can do stifle the effects. But there is only so much we can do. Our vaults are now empty. Would you like a slice of cake?”
I stopped skidding forwards, then slowly, twisted my chair around.
This … This sounded awful?!
“Why didn't I hear about this before?!”
My father smiled kindly at me.
“There was no need to tell you, dear. And in truth, we may well have not needed to. Your brothers and sisters are securing alliances, loans and deals as we speak. There are promising winds, if nothing more. If all goes well, then perhaps this marriage proposition is not needed, after all.”
My arms fell to the chair's sides.
My brothers and sisters. So they knew. But of course they did. They were the shining stars of the kingdom. And what was I, but a princess in her tower?
I thought back to the days of sloth I enjoyed. To the scandals and the villainy I read about in my books. To the countless hours I'd spent tending to the apple trees, napping in the grass and shooing away any force of nature that dared disturb me. I … well, I did not regret a single moment of any of that.
But I did feel terrible. I wasn't a help. I was a burden.
This … This cannot be allowed to continue!
I am Juliette Contzen … and I refuse to be poor! I had ... I had living standards to maintain!
“I understand, Mother, Father. Please rest assured that I'll devote all thought towards restoring our family's … no, our kingdom's finances. As your daughter ... and as the 3rd princess to the throne, I solemnly promise that I will not permit our noble country to fall into the throes of destituteness.”
The expressions on my parents' faces were brighter than even my sword, which had lit up the orchard as though I were wielding a star.
In that moment, I knew what I had to do.
There were more empty chairs than usual today.
Dinner was becoming a rather solitary affair, wasn't it? In my memories, I could hear the grandstanding and the laughter as my brothers and sisters fought, argued, laughed, and did something that was a mixture of all three.
That was many years ago now.
A tragic thought, considering I surely wasn't old enough to be able to look back on times gone by. Yet time ran swiftly for royalty. Especially at dinner.
I placed my napkin down on my plate, satisfied at a meal shorn of any wonky carrots, if not the crumbliness of the sweet potatoes.
The plates belonging to my mother and father were long cleared. Clarise was dining alone in the observatory, dabbling as she did in her trinkets and toys. The rest were working. Dinner, still. But working dinners none the less.
My eldest siblings were enamoured with politics, and were thus exempt from our mother and father's fussing. Even without being given the choice, they would dine with the daughters and sons of the Ducal Houses.
Already, there were rumours of factions as influence ebbed and flowed between them.
I didn't believe any of it, of course. In other nations, other kingdoms, perhaps. But not this one. House Contzen did not do in-fighting. Except when Roland let out the most abominable of smells while sharing a carriage with Tristan. Then there was blood. Usually when Mother put a stop to it.
Otherwise, we were well behaved … if not exactly normal.
Yes, even for someone as far removed from normality as I, even I could recognise that what I was seeing in front of me was not normal. And I was not referring to the untouched confit de canard braised with hot oranges. No, that was just eccentric. And disgusting. Please don't ever make it again.
No, what I knew was not normal … was the 14 layer cake that was threatening to either touch the ceiling or collapse the table beneath its weight.
“Did you enjoy today's gratin dauphinois de patates douces, dear?” asked Mother, beaming with excitement as she lowered her teacup. She'd finished drinking it over ten minutes ago. “The spring harvest is truly bearing fruit this year. Everything was delectable.”
Next to her, Father gave a chuckle as he toyed with an orange from the fruit basket. I wondered if that's why they all tasted somewhat shrivelled up.
“The stewards say that this year's yields will be our finest yet,” he said. “The markets will be teeming with people from all across the continent for our seasonal wares.”
I cocked my head and gave a puzzled smile. Wasn't that what the stewards said last year? And the year before last?
If so, it'd mean that quantity was truly no replacement for quality. What good was more food if I could only stomach less of it? The bourguignon d'agneau was overdone, the gougeres were dry and the oeufs en meurette were the consistency of tepid pond water. How could I live in these conditions?
Why, if I didn't know better, I'd almost say that the food tasted ... old. It's a wonder I was still alive!
“That brings joy to my heart,” I replied, pushing my semi-emptied plate away. A maid immediately scooped it up and retreated to the kitchens. “Our beautiful kingdom can only be made richer still by the presence of so many curious visitors experiencing the fruits of our labours.”
“Well spoken, my dear. Wealth begets wealth. Ours is a prosperous land. And it is only both wise and fair that it's enjoyed by people across every realm.”
My father smiled with unabashed enthusiasm. I couldn't help but smile in return. Even though I knew that we were simply avoiding the main subject here.
The extremely gaudy 14 layer cake smothered in cream and strawberries.
“Mother, Father.” I let out a small cough. “The cake. I can't help but notice that the maids began assembling it during dinner.”
“Oh, goodness, did you notice?” said Mother, looking sheepish. “I hope it didn't ruin the surprise. I actually hoped that the construction process would have been rather more discreet.”
“No, Mother, they were very discreet. Why, when the topmost layer began toppling over, I barely noticed as three of the maids locked arms to prevent a collapse, while another utilised a halberd from the wall to lodge it back into position.”
My mother let out a sigh of relief.
“Good, good. Then I suppose it hasn't all been to waste.”
“That would depend. The question needs to be asked. Why, Mother and Father, do we have such an extravagant cake prepared?”
“For you, of course!”
Both Mother and Father smiled at me. I smiled back, as all my tutelage taught me. I was quite proud of this. Because inside, I wasn't smiling. Oh no. Not at all. I was peering down a chasm as wide as the ground once this table inevitably collapsed under the weight of this cake.
Because as certain as the fact that all the maids had conspicuously retreated from the hall, a cake on a day where no cake should be served was the guillotine for my good, if slightly strange day.
“I see.” I swallowed. Hard. “Thank you. It looks wonderful.”
“You're very welcome, dear. The strawberries are your favourite variety. And the cream was only whipped minutes before the cake was assembled.”
“Yes, the gleam is very enticing. However, I must apologise. The occasion has completely evaded me. If I may be so bold as to ask, why are you gifting me with such a luxurious cake, topped with my favourite strawberries and freshly whipped cream?”
My mother elbowed my father, who elbowed my mother, who kneed my father, who shouldered my mother, who headbutted my father.
“My dear,” said Father, his eyes spinning slightly. “Do you remember Duke Hallingsey?”
“I do. He visited two years ago. His beard left a strange trail on the floor as he walked. I could not tell whether it was hair or something living inside it.”
“That's the fellow! And what do you think about his son?”
“I'm afraid I didn't meet him. He was, if I recall, too busy introducing himself to the statues in the gardens. Should I ask them if he was charming?”
My father's smile quivered momentarily. I couldn't tell if he was struggling to maintain his forced expression, or if I'd simply said something to actually amuse him.
“Darling,” said Mother. “Duke Hallingsey's son is a worthy match for you. Although it's true that in the past he was known for his eccentricities, he has been tempered into a fine young man. Just as you are a fine young lady. All we're asking for is a meeting.”
“A meeting.”
“Yes.”
“Just a meeting?”
“Just a meeting. And also marriage plans.”
“I see. Thank you, Mother and Father. It's as you say, the son of Duke Hallingsey is a fine match. I will, of course, consider this meeting in due course. Once I've made my decision, I'll inform you immediately.”
I nodded, smiled, and rose from my—
Rose from my—
Rose from—
I looked down.
Hmm. Interesting. I wasn't rising from my seat.
Despite my legs clearly working to eject me from this chair, the fact remained that I was firmly stuck to it. Only the chair itself moved, its heavy wooden frame budging by approximately half an inch as I forced my muscles to push against what felt like a wall.
I smiled at my parents.
“Why am I stuck to this chair?”
Mother leaned forwards and cut a small slice of cake. She placed it over a plate, considered me, then began nibbling on the end instead.
A wise choice. Offering me the cake would have been offering me a weapon.
“A troll caravan visited the villa earlier. They touted us a new invention created by the greatest minds of the Mage's Guild. The traders called it … what was it, darling?”
“Super glue.”
“Yes, that's it. Super glue. Its efficacy is stunning, wouldn't you say? It creates an unbreakable bond between almost any material. Why, we even managed to fix the crookedness of your grandfather's portrait. It no longer tilts on its own.”
Crank. Crank. Crank.
I scraped the chair across the marble floor as I forced it to move one chair leg at a time.
“Yes, highly impressive,” I replied. “Almost as much as your attempts to marry me off.”
“Really, dear!” said Mother. “There could be worse matches. If Duke Hallingsey's son isn't quite your cup of tea, then there's also—”
“Neither Clarise nor Florella are married. And Roland and Tristan's engagements are indefinitely postponed.”
“Your brothers and sisters are working hard to secure the future prospects of this kingdom in their own ways, dear. It's not necessary for them to remove themselves from a table they may still use for their advantage.”
“I can do that when I'm older. The same as them. Why is this being discussed now? What is this about? This is quite clearly out of the blue. Your last attempts to marry me off at least came with a hint of subtlety.”
“Oh? You actually knew?” Mother's eyes lit up with triumph as she turned to Father. “You see? I told you she wasn't tone deaf to social nuance. She was just being difficult.”
“I'm not tone deaf and I'm not difficult,” I said, continuing to noisily slide my chair towards the nearest door. “Now, why are we, and I mean the both of you, suddenly seeking a marriage arrangement for me?”
My mother looked at my father. This was all the bad news she was willing to give.
“We're bankrupt,” he cheerfully said, before accepting a piece of the cake being offered by my mother. “Gosh, we overpaid for these strawberries, didn't we?”
“Dry as a wicker basket. I told you so, darling.”
“I apologise. Next time, do ignore me if I try to go with my gut instincts. You need to be more incessant.”
“I try. But you've failed so much with your gut instincts that you're always convinced the next will be correct.”
“Well, a streak has to break at some point, doesn't it?”
“Mother! Father!”
I slammed my palms down on my thighs. I could hear the glue setting even further. My regret was deep.
“How are we bankrupt?! Do you mean to say that we're … that we're … poor?!”
Father nodded as he slid a crystal glass of amber wine towards himself.
I almost fainted on the spot. Although I wasn't sure how much of it was due to physical exertion. Chairs were remarkably heavy.
“The truth is that the previous years have been rather difficult for the kingdom, dear. The promised crop yields never materialised. Ships have ceased to trade at our ports owing to the pirates in our straits. Rival criminal syndicates plague the capital and monsters stalk the open roads, all the while our soldiers must stand vigilant against the continued skirmishes on our eastern border. Our forests are beset with unfathomable snow and a hole into the abyss has been discovered in our mines. Oh, and Duke Valence is in open revolt. Really, it's been one thing after another. We've done what we can do stifle the effects. But there is only so much we can do. Our vaults are now empty. Would you like a slice of cake?”
I stopped skidding forwards, then slowly, twisted my chair around.
This … This sounded awful?!
“Why didn't I hear about this before?!”
My father smiled kindly at me.
“There was no need to tell you, dear. And in truth, we may well have not needed to. Your brothers and sisters are securing alliances, loans and deals as we speak. There are promising winds, if nothing more. If all goes well, then perhaps this marriage proposition is not needed, after all.”
My arms fell to the chair's sides.
My brothers and sisters. So they knew. But of course they did. They were the shining stars of the kingdom. And what was I, but a princess in her tower?
I thought back to the days of sloth I enjoyed. To the scandals and the villainy I read about in my books. To the countless hours I'd spent tending to the apple trees, napping in the grass and shooing away any force of nature that dared disturb me. I … well, I did not regret a single moment of any of that.
But I did feel terrible. I wasn't a help. I was a burden.
This … This cannot be allowed to continue!
I am Juliette Contzen … and I refuse to be poor! I had ... I had living standards to maintain!
“I understand, Mother, Father. Please rest assured that I'll devote all thought towards restoring our family's … no, our kingdom's finances. As your daughter ... and as the 3rd princess to the throne, I solemnly promise that I will not permit our noble country to fall into the throes of destituteness.”
The expressions on my parents' faces were brighter than even my sword, which had lit up the orchard as though I were wielding a star.
In that moment, I knew what I had to do.
