Free A Tale of Two Princesses by V. Ashenden Page B

now," Kathree had said. "Take that home to your uncle, give him something to be proud of then."
         After lunch, they set out on preparing midday tea, which was the slowest time of the day for Sienna. They even let her take a break! A break! And no one yelled at her! She went down the stairs to the storage pantry and out to the castle road, sitting on the stone wall, her feet dangling off it as she looked straight out. She could see the countryside stretching far beyond. The town was in eyesight, the rooftops all brown and red in color. Her uncle's tavern was farther on to the north, though she could not see it. To the east was a range of mountains that defined the kingdom's boundary. To the west was the forest, the Tempest Forest. It looked black even from so far away, the sky dark above. Soon, Sienna returned to the kitchens, taking her lunch, courtesy of Betilly.
         "Dear, you don't need to lick the plate clean," Betilly said. "Plenty more where that came from."
         "Teaching that child manners is an uphill battle," Kathree muttered.
         Now, the real work was to begin. Tonight was the ball, and everyone was buzzing about it. The kitchen had to provide hundreds of hors d'oeuvres, a word Sienna had never heard before, but she understood it to be snacks for the guests.
         "Try this one, dear," Betilly said, handing her a toothpick with some kind of meat wrapped in bacon.
         "Oh! Mmm!" Sienna said, chewing.
         "Good?"
         Sienna nodded, giving two thumbs up.
         Betilly chuckled. "You're my favorite critic. Another?"
         "Mmm-hmm!"
     
    * * *
     
         "A masquerade ball, really," Court said. "Is it straight yet, Wellington?"
         "Must you keep moving, sir?" Wellington said as he straightened Court's tie, brushing off his black and silver jacket.
         "What's the purpose of it all, really?"
         "I believe, sir," Wellington said, tugging on Court's pants so they were perfectly straight, "the queen wishes you to have an audience with her daughter behind a mask."
         "I knew it. She's hideous. Golden hair, troll face."
         "No, sir. I think, perhaps, the girl is nervous. She, after all, probably has no more experience with men than you do with women."
         "I have experience!"
         "Sir, peeping upon the river while a group of women are bathing is not experience. It's just peeping."
         "That was a dare, Wellington, and I'll thank you not to speak of it again!"
         "Quite so, sir, but truly, I think it's a magnificent idea. It'll give you both a chance to speak to each other while hiding the emotion so often given away by one's face. Brilliant on the queen's part. She is as cunning as they say."
         "They also say she murdered her husband."
         "Sir! Please, with all respect, speaking such a thing would put our countries at war!"
         "Oh, Wellington, I wasn't going to say it to her face. I was only saying that's what they say."
         "Whether true or false, it is no concern."
         "What if her daughter follows in her mother's footsteps?" Court said with a gulp.
         "Well, then, I think you'd best keep your hands off any maidens in the castle."
         "Easy enough. I hear they're all old women."
         "Also true, sir," Wellington said. Then he pulled down Court's silver mask, which covered his entire face, the plaster image looking nothing like him. There were only three holes, two for his eyes, and a small slit to let his voice escape. "Sir, you are ready."
         "Wellington?" he said from behind the mask.
         "Yes, your highness?"
         "Just a thought, but shouldn't we wait to put on the mask until I'm at the ball, what with the travel time and horseback riding and all that?"
         "Ah. A prudent note, sir." Wellington lifted it. His prince was glaring. "Oh, your highness, it works quite well! I could not even tell you were annoyed with me until I saw