To Become a Princess

x|Chapter 1|x

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I scowl at my hands, worn and blistered. They ache where they have been rubbed raw relentlessly. My calluses have peeled, thus effectively leaving my fingers without "armor" as my father would put it. I continue forward, holding the pole on my aching shoulders. The staff shifts as the buckets sway with every step. I plaster a smile on my face and watch carefully for rocks in the path, to not trip. I would trade this kind of work any day over being trapped inside.

My ears soak in the sound of my boots crunching in the dirt, the rustling of corn stalks on either side accompanying beautifully. Sweat runs down my face, but I don't spare a hand to wipe it away. I march forward, trying not to trudge along. My dusty dress flutters at my ankles as my bonnet swings on my back. I have never been fond of them, bonnets I mean. They block your peripheral view and rub at your chin if you have to tie them tight. If you don't fasten them tight enough it gets picked up by a strong wind and you have to chase it down. My flawlessly skinned mother claims freckles to be atrociously unsightly, but I prefer them over wearing a blasted bonnet. She won't hear any of it though and insistently checks that I'm wearing mine before leaving home.

The clearing fills my view. A sigh of relief can't help but escape from my lips, as my goal is in sight. Tubs full of water and apples form a line, just like the people as they pass their buckets to be emptied. I see a familiar head of light brown hair and wander in than direction.

" Ya know how many more buckets we are gonna do today?" I inquire as his bright blue eyes scan over my complexion. I do not appear as I did when he done the same this morning. I am sure my brown braids are frizzly and my skin pink tinged from the sun. Nonetheless, he seems to overlook those changes. Choosing to smile broadly, his head whipping around when he hears my voice.

"Two more rounds, if ya can stand it." Frederic responds, nearing me to lift both my buckets from their pole. He sets one down as he dumps the rose reds into their bath and switches quickly to the other. He hangs the empty buckets back onto their spot. I give him a small smile. .

"Hold in there, we're almost done." He encourages gently, before splashing me with a little water. I glare but giggle as I retreat from him.

I retrace the path I have gone back and forth on all day, nodding as others pass by. Upon reaching the orchard, I glance around at all the ladders. Children and adults alike move to fill buckets with the abundant ripe red apples. I quietly approach the bottom of a tree and lower the pole from off my shoulders, removing the empty buckets. I settle them onto the ground by the foot of a ladder, lining up two full ones to take their place. With a deep breath, I heave the staff upon my back once again and return to my meandering. The sun slowly lowers in the sky behind me as I return to Frederic's tub. He seems more ragged than before, but easily lifts the buckets and deposits their contents.

"I think that'll do it for today Rene. The rest have been sending the carriers home." Fred relievers the news tiredly and I nod.

"See ya bright and early tomorrow!" I say with a sarcastic smirk. He groans, not being a early riser. He keeps my empty buckets in a pile next to the rest, bidding me farewell by sticking out his tongue as I lug my pole along.

I carved it myself a couple years ago with my father, when I had finally gotten big enough to help with the apple harvest. It has notches for the bucket handles, so that they can't slide and leather sewn over where my hands support it. I am quite proud of how well it works.

The way my kingdom harvests apples is a little inconvenient. We could just fill wagons full and transport them that way. However, horses are not overly abundant and especially at this time of year they are tied up in other tasks. They have been harvested this way for many years and some consider it tradition. Thus, the walking and the buckets and the blisters. I don't mind, at least I don't once the soreness retreats.