Rouge and the Rogue (Knuxouge)

Bratty Princess

Rouge sat on her inn room bed. It was lumpy, with a straw mattress and thin sheets. She thought longingly of her mattress at home in the castle, filled with soft down and covered in fine silk. When she and her entourage had arrived, the innkeeper and his family had boasted greatly of their business, claiming it was the greatest inn in the kingdom, even finer than the castle itself. Rouge would have demanded a refund, but she wasn't paying to stay there anyway. The prestige of having the Princess stay with them was payment enough.

She sighed and started unpacking what she would need that night. At least her nightgown would be as comfortable as usual. While rummaging through her bag, her makeup case fell out and onto the floor with a crash! It startled Rouge so much she yelped an expletive.

Immediately there was a knock at the door. "Princess, are you alright? What happened?" A booming voice came from the door.

"Ugh, yes you cretin, I'm fine. My makeup kit simply fell," she called back. A guard had been posted at her door. She didn't think that was nessecary, but she did think it was funny that the man would have to sleep on the floor outside her room, so she allowed it. "And don't listen too hard over there, creep," she said.

"Of course not, your majesty!" Then he was silent again.

Rouge checked her makeup (none of it was cracked) and changed into her nightgown. It was light blue with flowing ruffled sleeves. The garment reached her ankles easily. It billowed out gracefully as she walked across the room.

Luckily the room they had given her was on the third floor and had a window, though it wasn't nearly as large as her own window at the castle. She opened the shutters to look outside at the moon. She rested her elbows on the sill and leaned forward. The world was all indigo except for the stars and the yellow moon. She gazed quietly out. When she was little, she would always ask her father to buy her the moon. Even a star would do, she would say. They were the only sparkly things that had escaped her. So she gazed at them from afar every night.

"Psst. Hey Princess," a whisper interrupted her. Rouge jumped, then looked around to find the speaker. There, on the ground a bit away, was a peasant. She huffed. The nerve of this peasant, to interrupt the Princess's personal activities.

"Can't you see I'm busy? I don't have time to listen to your measly problems," Rouge growled at the figure.

"But... you were just staring at the sky."

"That's my business, not yours. Now go away."

"Surely you can spare one minute for your subjects."

Rouge thought about this. She did want her subjects to think well of her, in a worshipping kind of sense. Plus, if she listened to this subject's complaint for just one minute, maybe they would stop bothering her.

"You have one minute. Speak well."

The peasant thanked her and then stepped closer, seemingly to be heard better, but it had the secondary effect of shedding light on them. He was a red echidna, with long quills framing his face. Though there was grime all over him, under the layer of dirt was a handsome, sort of pointy face with brows that looked as though he was consistently frowning though his mouth showed otherwise. He was attractive, in a plays-in-dirt, peasant kind of way.

"Princess, I was wondering if you really know what your father's tax policies are doing to the kingdom? Your subjects live on the barest means possible. Sometimes they don't live at all. Children starve in the streets for lack of substance."

Rouge didn't see how starving children were her problem. If their parents couldn't feed them, that was their issue. The crown only charged money and jewels, not food.