The Wide-Awake Princess Page 9

  Annie sank back into the warm water and sighed. She hadn’t seen Liam since the race, but she found herself wishing that she could talk to him. It occurred to her that it was odd, not just because he was a guard, but because she liked how open and honest he was with her, and how he treated her like an equal, which was the very thing her family would have hated about him.

  She was still thinking about Liam when the lady-in-waiting returned with a nosegay of violets and the news that the ball would be starting soon. After tucking the flowers in Annie’s hair, Lady Hillary escorted her through the castle to the Great Hall, where she left her with the other princesses.

  “Look who’s here,” said the princess named Sarinda. The musicians were playing soft music as more people entered the room, but even so she had to speak up to be heard. “It’s the princess from... Where did you claim to be from?”

  “Treecrest,” said Annie, pretending that the other girls weren’t looking at her as if they’d like to poison her food.

  “The princess from Treecrest is reputed to be very beautiful,” said Daphne. “You can’t possibly be her. You’re not beautiful, or even pretty.”

  Annie kept a bright smile plastered on her face. No matter how often she’d been spoken to like this, she’d never gotten used to it. “You’re talking about my sister, Gwendolyn. She’s the most beautiful princess in the world, present company included.”

  Daphne turned to the other princesses. “It’s no wonder she entered the contest. Ordinarily no prince would ever notice her. Andreas’s contest is unique in that it has nothing to do with beauty.”

  “Not so far,” Sarinda said. “We don’t know what the rest of the contests will be.” She turned to Annie and told her in an icy voice, “Don’t assume you’re going to win the prince just because you won that stupid riding contest.”

  Daphne sighed. “I wish they would tell us what the contests will be so we could prepare.”

  “That’s probably why they haven’t,” said Sarinda.

  “Actually—,” Annie began.

  “Shh!” Daphne said. “Prince Andreas approaches!”

  Annie smiled to herself as the other princesses began to pat their hair and straighten their gowns.

  “Your Highnesses,” said the prince, bowing to them all.

  “You look very handsome, Your Grace,” said Sarinda.

  “And you all look lovely,” he replied. “Princess Daphne, I believe this is our dance.”

  Even as Prince Andreas led Daphne to the middle of the room, Annie knew it wasn’t going to be a traditional kind of dance. Most dances were done in lines with multiple couples, but no one else made a move to join them. Annie laughed to herself when the music began and she saw the surprised look on the princess’s face. Daphne’s expression turned to one of dismay when the prince put one hand on her back and took her hand with the other. Andreas pushed and pulled the princess around the room, roughly in time with the music. Within the first few minutes, he stepped on Daphne’s feet, shoved her so fast that she nearly tripped, and twirled her until she looked ill. It wasn’t until he twirled her into a wall with a loud thud and she walked away rubbing her head that she finally asked to sit down. Instead of looking sorry, the prince looked smug.

  Princess Clotilde was his next partner. The music was a lively country jig, one that Annie knew well, but the princess acted as if she’d never heard it. Although she tried to follow Andreas’s steps, he moved too quickly and she was unable to avoid his feet when he stomped on her dainty slippers. The second time he stepped on her foot, she excused herself and hobbled to the side of the room.

  Andreas whispered into the ear of his next partner as they danced. Annie could see the princess becoming more and more uncomfortable. Her eyes grew wide as he talked, and she blushed a deep shade of pink almost as vivid as her flame-colored hair. The prince seemed to be enjoying himself, however, and he smiled broadly when she abruptly let go of his hand, slapped his face, and ran from the Hall. Whatever he had said to that princess, Annie resolved that she would take the conversation in a different direction.

  When Andreas raised his hand to stop the music, Annie followed him to the table set up against the wall. There was an odd assortment of food, with bowls of garlic cloves and small red onions placed beside dainty pastries and sweetmeats. Annie hadn’t eaten since she shared the vendor’s meat pie with Liam, and would have loved to have helped herself, but she watched when Andreas took a handful of small onions and garlic cloves and ate them as if they were candy. No one was watching when Annie popped garlic and onions into her mouth, too.

  The music was just beginning when Annie returned to watch Prince Andreas. He didn’t even have to talk to his next partner before she made a terrible face—one whiff of his breath was enough. His wild steps and oniony garlic breath soon had her looking queasy and running from the Hall.

  Annie thought the whole thing was funny and was laughing behind her hand when she noticed the last two princesses glaring at her. “Why are you laughing?” asked Sarinda. “You won’t do any better than they have.”

  “We’ll see,” said Annie as Prince Andreas came to claim a partner.

  The next piece of music was another lively one. The prince twirled his partner around and around until she was so dizzy that she couldn’t stand, and collapsed in a heap when he let go of her hand.

  “I’m the best dancer in my kingdom,” Sarinda muttered under her breath, “but I can’t dance like that! He isn’t really dancing. He’s playing some silly game.”

  “Exactly,” said Annie as the prince escorted Sarinda onto the dance floor. “And the winner will be the one who plays along.”

  The prince’s dancing was even wilder with Sarinda than it had been with the others. She didn’t fall when he twirled her, and skipped nimbly aside when he tried to stomp on her feet, but when he danced her toward the raised dais at the end of the Hall and hopped up the two steps onto it, she faltered and nearly let go of his hand. Her face was flushed when she hopped up beside him— then up, down, up, down... She tried to follow him as he hopped on and off the dais, but when he finally hopped down and started to dance across the floor again, her legs were so wobbly that they couldn’t hold her, and she staggered into a courtier watching from the side, nearly knocking him down.

  The music started up again as Prince Andreas took Annie’s hand. It was a piece that had been played earlier, so Annie was ready when he tried to twirl her into the wall; she jumped out of the way so that he nearly bumped into it himself. When he tried to stomp on her feet, she skipped aside. Annie thought that she might have won when the first dance ended and she was still on her feet, but Prince Andreas wasn’t finished yet.

  The second dance was one of the strange, slow ones. “It’s a new style of dance popular in the southern kingdoms,” Andreas said, pulling her close. Because she’d held his hand for so long, she could clearly see what he looked like without magic. He wasn’t handsome, but he had a nice face with the look of a mischievous boy.

  When Andreas gazed into her eyes and blew a puff of oniony garlic breath in Annie’s face, she blew her own garlicky onion breath back at him. He snorted and looked surprised, but a moment later he was laughing. “Very good, Annie,” he whispered into her ear. “You’re smarter than the rest as well as an excellent dancer. You know, I’d really like to get to know you better. What do you say we leave the Hall and—”

  “Go play a game of chess!” Annie suggested. “Or checkers if you’d prefer. I know a lot of card games, too, and a page taught me an interesting game using dice.”

  “Really?” said the prince, looking intrigued. “My favorite game uses small round stones and dice. I could show you that one if you’d like.”

  “That would be wonderful!” said Annie.

  The music pulled them apart for a moment, and when it brought them back together the prince tried to take charge of the conversation again. His eyes were smoldering when he looked into hers, and he said, “I know a great place wher
e we could go to be alone and—”

  “The stable, right?” said Annie. “That horse you were riding was magnificent. Do you breed horses here in Corealis or do you buy them from a breeder?”

  The prince’s expression brightened. “Actually… ,” he began. The discussion about horses lasted until the dance was over; neither one noticed until the music stopped.

  The next piece of music was a lively one and Annie was ready to be twirled when Andreas grinned and spun her around. Knowing that she would get dizzy if she spun too many times in one direction, she twirled in reverse back to the prince, only to be twirled again. When it was obvious that she wasn’t getting dizzy, he danced her over to the dais and hopped up. Annie was ready for this move, too, and hopped up alongside him.

  “I hear that they do this move in the southern kingdoms, too,” she said, and hopped into his arms so that he was supporting her weight.

  Startled, the prince stumbled down from the dais and set her on her feet. “I believe I’ve heard about that move,” he said, mopping his brow with a handkerchief that he pulled from his sleeve. “However, I’m not quite up to it.” The prince’s lips widened into a grin as he bent his knee into a courtly bow. “It appears that you have won this contest, Annie. Congratulations! I couldn’t be happier!”

  “Thank you, Your Highness,” Annie said, curtseying.

  “I must go tell my parents. They’ll be ecstatic.”

  The prince hurried off into the crowd. A moment later Liam appeared, looking handsomer than ever in a clean set of clothes. “So you won another one,” he grumbled.

  “Two down,” she said. “I wonder how many there are to go.”

  “I saw the way Andreas has been looking at you. Have you told him that you’re doing this for your sister and not for yourself?”

  “Not yet. I can’t tell him during the contest or he’ll disqualify me.”

  “And if you win, what would keep him from disqualifying you then?”

  “My charm and good looks?” Annie said, giving him her warmest smile.

  “That wouldn’t work on him,” Liam muttered under his breath as he turned away. He disappeared into the crowd lining the Great Hall as servants returned the tables and benches to their usual places. Only five princesses were ushered to the table that they were to share with Prince Andreas.

  “Where are the others?” Annie asked Daphne as they took their seats across from the prince.

  “They’re indisposed,” Daphne replied, glancing at Andreas.

  “Lorelei is resting with a cold compress on her head and Bluebell is sick to her stomach,” whispered Sarinda, who was sitting on Annie’s other side.

  “After all the exercise we’ve had today, I’m famished,” said the prince, eyeing a steaming platter of roast goose. “I hope you’ve brought your appetites with you, ladies.”

  “Everything looks delicious,” Annie replied. “I’m famished, too!”

  “She’s so common,” she heard one of the princesses whisper to another.

  Although the other princesses turned up their noses at the heartier fare, preferring to nibble quail’s eggs and a soufflé of hummingbird tongues, Annie had a large helping of oxtail soup, then heaped her plate high with roast goose, venison, and blood sausage. She ate everything that the prince ate, including the smelly cheese that no one else touched. Annie had to force herself to eat slowly, but she couldn’t make herself pick at the food the way the other princesses did.

  After chewing her last bite and sipping her last sip, Annie glanced up to see Andreas watching her with approval. “I like a girl with a hearty appetite,” he said. “And now I have an announcement to make.” Pushing his seat back, the prince strode to the front of the room and onto the dais.

  Sarinda leaned forward to whisper past Annie to Daphne. They both looked a little less lovely than they had before sitting on either side of Annie, but neither one seemed to be aware of it. “He’s probably going to announce the next contest,” said Sarinda. “What do you suppose it is this time?”

  “Whatever it might be, I hope we can sit down for it,” Daphne replied. “My foot still pains me where Andreas tromped on it.”

  The room grew quiet as Prince Andreas joined his parents. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear that I’ve made my decision,” he announced. “We have a winner of the contest, so there’s no need to look any further.”

  Sarinda’s breath hissed out of her, Daphne bit back a sob, and the other princesses began to whisper among themselves.

  “That’s wonderful,” said his mother, clapping her hands and beaming.

  His father declared in a loud voice, “It’s about time! Who is she, lad? Which of these lovely ladies has finally stolen your heart?”

  “Princess Annabelle, from the kingdom of Treecrest! Annie, would you please join me?”

  Annie hadn’t expected to feel a pang of guilt as she rose from her seat and approached the dais. She had entered the contest hoping to find a prince for Gwennie, not herself. It really hadn’t occurred to her that she had entered it under false pretenses, even though Liam kept trying to tell her that she had, but seeing the prince’s radiant face made her realize just how unfair she’d been.

  Clearly Andreas was looking for a wife who knew how to do the kinds of things that he enjoyed and would enjoy doing them with him. He was a robust, enthusiastic kind of person who didn’t do anything halfway, and he wanted a wife who was the same. Magic had made all of the other princesses appear close to perfect, only it was someone else’s idea of perfection, not Andreas’s. The magically enhanced princesses were lovely and probably accomplished in the gentler arts, but not every prince wanted a wife who could look pretty while she embroidered. These girls would never dance the kind of dances Andreas liked, ride the way he rode, or share his interests. And if he married Gwennie, that was exactly what he would get.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Annie said as the prince took her hand in his.

  “What about the other contests?” Sarinda called in an angry voice. “We’ve only done two so far—the poetry contest and the riding contest.”

  “Four,” said the prince. “The dancing contest and the eating contest count, too.”

  “There was an eating contest?” Daphne said, glancing down at her plate.

  Sarinda’s face was flushed when she stood up. “It still isn’t fair. Princess Annabelle,” she said, practically spitting out the name, “didn’t have to make up a poem on a moment’s notice the way the rest of us did.”

  “That’s true,” Andreas said. “Annie, you do need to make up a poem. It can be about anything at all.”

  “I’m not very good at poems,” she whispered to the prince.

  “What was that? We couldn’t hear you!” called Sarinda.

  “I’ll try,” said Annie. “If you’ll give me just a moment.”

  “One minute,” said Sarinda. “That’s all we were given.”

  Annie thought about the contest and what the prince had really been after. She thought about how he’d feel when he learned the truth. Knowing that she had done only what she needed to didn’t make her feel any better.

  “I’m ready,” said Annie, even as Sarinda opened her mouth again. “It’s a limerick,” she told the prince. “And not a very good one at that.”

  There once was a young prince who thought

  That he’d find the princess he sought

  By holding a contest

  Where he could find the best

  Wife who didn’t have to be taught.

  “Well done!” exclaimed Andreas. “I’d say that was good enough to win.”

  “There’s a second part,” Annie said, “if that’s all right.”

  “Go ahead,” said the prince.

  Annie nodded and cleared her throat before beginning.

  But the princess who garnered his hand

  Hoped that he’d understand

  That she’d entered to win

  On behalf of her kin

  And
not for herself as he’d planned.

  There was a moment of silence, then Andreas began to applaud. “Excellent!” he declared. “Even better than the first part. Although I must admit that you had me going there for a moment. I thought you meant that you—”

  “Can I talk to you for a moment?” asked Annie. “Alone?”

  “Certainly,” he said, his smile fading. “Is something wrong?”

  Annie felt terrible that she had to disappoint Andreas, and gave him a tremulous smile as she drew him into the corridor. She liked the prince and enjoyed his company. He was a more genuine person than most nobility, and she wouldn’t have minded marrying him herself if only they’d met under other circumstances.

  “Actually,” she said, “something is wrong and I was hoping you could help. My sister is the victim of a terrible curse. She’s asleep and will stay that way until her true love kisses her on the lips. I’m looking for a prince to kiss her and wake her up, and I was hoping that prince would be you.”

  Andreas frowned. “If you didn’t want to marry me, you shouldn’t have entered the contest.”

  “It isn’t that I wouldn’t like to marry you, but my sister, Gwendolyn—”

  “Princess Gwendolyn? Isn’t she supposed to be the most beautiful princess in all the kingdoms?”

  “I understand how angry you must be with me, but Gwennie needs you and—”

  “All she needs is one kiss? Then what happens, I mean, after I kiss her and she wakes up?”

  “Why, it would mean that you were her true love, so I suppose you would get married and—”

  “I would marry Princess Gwendolyn? The most beautiful princess in all the kingdoms?”

  “Yes, and I know that wasn’t what you had in mind, but—”

  “No, no! I’d be happy to help. When do we leave? I can be ready in twenty minutes. Make that thirty—I really should tell my parents that I’m going.”

  “You mean you’re all right with this? You aren’t angry that I deceived you?”

  “Ordinarily, I would be furious, but this is Gwendolyn that you’re talking about. I’ve heard so many stories... It is true what they say about her, isn’t it?”