The Reluctant Princess - a Novella

Prologue

Elizabeth was just barely the right height to be able to peer into the drawing room window. She furrowed her brow as she focused on the boy inside who sat between his parents, looking bored and restless.

He looked like any ordinary boy, she decided, nothing special at all. Yet this scrawny, dark-haired child was supposed to become their regent one day? She had her doubts.

Rather underwhelmed by her first look at the prince, she dropped into a crouch below the window and huffed, not caring much for the fact that the pale-yellow gown her mother had so painstakingly chosen for this special occasion was getting soiled and wrinkled. She could hear the servants scurrying about the garden behind her, whisper-yelling her name, in the hopes she would come out of hiding before the King and Queen realized she had gone missing.

Though barely nine years old, she knew enough about the way of the kingdom to know that you did not make the king and queen wait, unless maybe if you were bedridden, or better yet, dead. The mere fact they were here, in the place she called home, to meet her, was a momentous occasion, and the whole household had been in a veritable frenzy since they learned of their arrival. She should have been overwhelmed with excitement at the prospect of meeting the royal family. Instead, here she was, wedged between the window and the rose bushes, spying on the prince. Surely, she was going to face harsh punishment for this, but she was not afraid. They would have to bring her in kicking and screaming and with any luck, her rebellious display might enrage them enough to call the whole thing off.

She could only hope.

"Lizzie!" Lavinia's voice startled her to attention.

Her older sister squeezed in between the hedges and squatted beside her under the drawing room window, wide eyed.

"What are you doing here? You are supposed to be in there! Mama and Papa are going to be furious!"

Elizabeth scoffed and made no attempt to move from her spot. Even her sister, her only ally, had turned against her, it seemed.

"If you tell, I will never speak to you again!" she warned, glaring, but Lavinia seemed undeterred.

"You must come inside. Mama will punish us both if she finds out I knew where you were and did not tell."

Elizabeth groaned and rolled her eyes. Lavinia was only two years older than she, but she was wiser beyond her years and always knew what cards to play, both literally and figuratively: a talent she rather envied. Even though the two sisters usually quarreled on an hourly basis, they were very close, and always looked out for each other. Though younger than Lavinia, Elizabeth was fiercely protective of her sweet, wise siter, and the idea that she might be punished because of her own caprice, did not sit well.

Begrudgingly therefore, she followed Lavinia out of her hiding place and into the house, a sour expression firmly pasted on her face.  Nobody likes a scowling lady, her mother always told her and today, she did not even have to pretend to scowl.  When the two little girls entered the drawing room, several pairs of eyes turned in their direction.

Lady Crawley barely stifled a gasp when she saw the state of her first-born daughter's dress and the way whisps of hair stuck out here and there, having escaped her braids in places. Her mother cleared her throat and motioned for Elizabeth to come forward.

"There she is!" she exclaimed, her voice a little too shrill, "Come here Elizabeth, come show the King and Queen your curtsy."

Elizabeth's frown remained firmly in place as she walked stiffly towards the regents and their progeny. She completed her curtsy with no incident, glaring at the prince, and, to her surprise, he glared right back. She had hoped to make him uncomfortable, perhaps make him cry a little, but it appeared he was not the kind to be easily intimidated.

He stared at her for an awkward, long minute. much like one regards a new species of insect, before he finally spoke.

"Am I to really marry the one with all the freckles?" he inquired, addressing his parents, as if she were not even there.

He then made matters worse by glancing over at Lavinia, who was still standing by the door, looking like a perfect little China doll, as usual.

"I would rather marry her, mama," he had said and then, rising to his feet and waving in Elizabeth's direction, he added, "This one looks spotty... and mean!" he added, for good measure.

Nervous laughter rose from the adults in the room, while Lavinia stood awkwardly, wringing her hands and casting her eyes down and Elizabeth gaped at the insolent boy before her.

"Now, Henry, that's not a nice thing to say. Why don't you two go off and play? I am sure you will get along fine."

Henry frowned and turned his nose up at Elizabeth, as one does at the sight of a bland vegetable on their plate, when all they wanted was a piece of steak.

"I don't want to," he blurted, "she looks like our game keeper's hound with all those freckles..."

Elizabeth had never been known for her patience, and this boy's attitude was abominable, not to mention his manners were non-existent. How dare he make fun of her appearance? Why was no one reprimanding him for this? She therefore decided that, if she was not going to be allowed to kick him in the shin for his insolence, lest she should be jailed for treason, she was going to, at the very least, verbally defend herself.

"I would rather marry someone else too," she pointed out, unable to hold back her tongue before such insolence. "Besides," she had added looking down her nose at him, "I am taller than you, it's embarrassing!"

That had not gone over well, and he had taken one menacing step forward, fists clenched and ready for a fight, despite being almost a head shorter than her. Clearly, she had hit a sore point.  Her lisps began to curl into a smile, but she collected herself and continuted to glare at him, and his flushed, insultel little face.

Thankfully, before the scene could end in fisticuffs, the adults had stepped in and managed to distract the children and separate them.

Elizabeth had barely spoken two words to him for the rest of his visit, which incidentally had been his first and last. She had pleaded in vain with her parents to reconsider, and had beseeched Lavinia to offer herself instead, but to no avail.

"But he likes you!" Elizabeth had whined, "Didn't you hear him say he would rather marry you? Why must it be me?"

"Elizabeth, that is enough!", her mother had reprimanded her, "The decision is made, and it is final. Now, you will go to your room and think about what you have done here today. Your father and I will not tolerate this sort of behavior again."

Begrudgingly, she had retreated to her room, fuming. She knew perfectly well that she was not in the position to argue here, but she could not just roll over and accept her fate without a fight. She was not quite ten years old and yer her family had literally given her away to a group of strangers, to be handed off one day as if she were a mere parcel.

The agreement had been made when she had been born and everyone knew that what the regents decreed was law, and could not be undone lightly. Elizabeth's maternal aunt had married into the royal family of the neighboring often hostile kingdom and the political advantages of a union between Elizabeth and Henry were immense.

As the years passed, Elizabeth had tried to resign herself to her cruel fate, but every now and again, she would still attempt to persuade Lavinia to volunteer herself for the role of royal consort. Surely, Henry would be more likely to fall in love with beautiful Lavinia and perhaps he would treat her well and she could learn to love him back?

Unfortunately, at the time of the agreement Lavinia had already been promised to a powerful duke, who had passed away suddenly two years after the royal betrothal had been signed off. Even if that had not been the case, on the day she turned eighteen, Lavinia had announced her wish to enter a convent, thus further cementing Elizabeth's fate.

And so Elizabeth had stopped arguing and with much sadness, had made peace with the fact one day, she would be tied to that nasty prine for the rest of her existence.