Once Upon A Princess

15: Selflessness

The next morning at breakfast, Amelia was expecting that the prince would be there. When she saw only her parents at the table, she felt a little deflated. She hadn't even gotten to say goodbye. And then she just felt ridiculous for wanting to say goodbye at all, because the prince had been nothing but trouble. Her feelings warred inside of her, the same battle they'd been fighting ever since that frog had spoken to her.

Rowena, of course, was furious she hadn't been awoken when the prince was found. Amelia could tell immediately that the queen's mood was thunderous. Years of watching body language showed the classic signs: rigid posture, slowed movements, a turn of the mouth. She elected to keep silent and eat as quickly as possible to get out of the way.

The queen was the most made up of the three of them, considering she hadn't stayed up half the night. Her thick black hair had been done up in braids along her head, shining almost as much as the crown sitting atop her head in all its bejeweled glory. The queen rarely went anywhere without a crown. Harold only wore his when doing business.

Amelia barely sat down before her mother started.

"I heard the prince of Gell was found in your chambers last night."

The comment was clipped, barely contained rage just underneath the surface of her words. Harold didn't seem to hear it, or else was also choosing to lay low while the queen's temper flared.

Amelia had a sip of her juice before replying. She felt the need to put food in her stomach before dealing with her mother.

"Yes, he was. Came as a frog. It about scared me half the death."

Her father, eating his breakfast of mutton and potato with little gusto, smiled at her. Nothing in his posture betrayed that he'd missed out on a lot of sleep, but he sported dark circles beneath his eyes.

"Yes, how did he get in, I wonder?" It was musing to himself more than anything.

Amelia shrugged. "I've got no clue."

"Perhaps there are rat holes in your room," the queen said, puncturing the top of her berry drizzled bread with her fork, cutting up a small piece with measured grace.

"Now, now, don't scare her. I'm sure there aren't rats in her room," the king said with a weighted look to his wife, though what weight the look was carrying was lost to the princess.

He was smiling at his queen, as if all this talk was playful family banter and not the frosty, barely veiled words of a family strained. The king was almost laughing to himself, seemingly unaware of the tension in the room.

"I'm not afraid of rats," Amelia said, trying to give her mother a steady look.

Rowena didn't even look at her. Breakfast was more interesting than her daughter, even when she was in the middle of belittling her.

"You're afraid of frogs, apparently," she replied, her words sickly gratified.

The queen smirked, and Amelia felt her neck grow hot. She sat back in her seat, taking a bite of her apple with all the anger she felt. The snap of the apple was satisfying, and the teeth marks left behind gave her another strange sort of pleasure. Some things she had control over. Sometimes she was powerful.

"Don't slouch," the queen snapped. She was quick and vicious, always able to catch the princess off guard.

Amelia sat up straight again, feeling the juice of her apple running down her chin. When Harold turned to frown at the queen, she smiled that dazzling smile of hers.

"I'd just like to be informed of important information as it happens, not the next morning when the news has become old."

"I'm sorry, darling," the king replied. He did sound genuinely sorry. "I just know how you like your beauty rest."