Chapter One

If not for this story, these years would have been the happiest in France's history. The people were well taken care of by the royal family, and the country was at peace. The future of the throne was secure, for the king and queen had a son to inherit the throne and four beautiful daughters to select suitors for. And the people loved them. Palace happenings were a hot topic for gossip, so news traveled fast. When the news got out about the queen's fifth pregnancy, the news covered the entire city of Paris within a week, the entire country in two. This began nine months of happy anticipation for the people of France as they awaited the new arrival with baited breath.

But in the palace, the atmosphere was quite different. As the pregnancy progressed, the queen's condition grew worse and worse, until the royal physician wouldn't even let the queen out of bed. She protested at this. "I see no reason why I shouldn't be out and about. I'm perfectly fine." But her looks belied her words. Her wavy gold tresses were losing their healthy bounce, and her cheekbones were growing more prominent with each week that passed. Every time the king looked at her, it hurt. What is happening to you my love? What will this child cost? Your life? Such thoughts tormented him long into the evening.

On one such night, when the king had been plagued by worry into the wee hours, he walked to his wife's bedchamber and stood in the doorway. "Can't sleep?" She said from under the bedclothes. "Come here."

The king walked to the bed and sat beside her swollen belly. "I'm sorry if I woke you. I just wanted to make sure you were alright." Blast his voice, why did it have to shake so?

But she smiled at the quiver in his voice. "No, the baby did. It keeps kicking me." She tried to pull herself up into a sitting position, but the king put his arm around her shoulders and held her close. "You've been so busy worrying that I never got to ask you, which would you like? A boy or a girl?" She took his hand and pressed it to her womb, where he could feel the baby kicking.

"I think I'd like a girl. I hope she has your eyes." And he laid her back down and walked out of the room.

The next day, the queen went into labor. All royal events and duties were suspended for the day as nurses and physicians ran through the palace. The prince and his four sisters were shooed out of the queen's rooms and into their own, and the king closeted himself in the library. How many times had they sat together here, reading the latest dispatches and greeting ambassadors?

The hours dragged on. Screams and groans permeated the palace walls and resounded in the corridors and courtyards. Only after fifteen hours of labor did the king hear the news. He had gotten his wish, but at a great price. France had gained a princess, but had lost a queen.

Johan the brick maker sat at the table by the fireplace in the Broken Mug, a tavern in the more developed areas of Paris. The conversation flew around him.

"I just don't understand it." said the landlady as she brought them their ale. "The princess is nigh two months old, and we still haven't heard tell of a royal christening. What the king must be thinking, I don't know. All the other children were baptized before a month had gone by."

Fredrick the stable hand chimed in. "It's not just oversight either. No one's allowed to see the princess besides a few servants of the old queen's and the royal family. Those who do wait on her are sworn to secrecy. It's very strange."

Then the speculation started. Perhaps the princess was malformed or sickly. Someone else suggested that the king hated the girl for taking away his wife. Someone else suggested that there was no baby at all, but that the whole thing was covering up a miscarriage. By the time Johan had paid for his ale and started heading home, people were saying that some sorcery had gone on to turn the princess into something horrible, as punishment for killing the queen.

This conversation wasn't limited to just one evening in a pub. It was the hottest topic in the city, maybe in all of France. Rumors were flying faster than sparks, and where they landed wildfires of speculation sprung up. Paris was aflame, and not even the palace remained untouched.

Priscilla the chamber maid was heading to the servant's quarters for supper when she spotted Luke. He was one of the lucky few who were allowed to wait on the princess. How could she pass up this chance to get the truth for her friends? It might be even better than the rumors she'd heard from them that morning. "Hello Luke." He kept walking. "Luke, slow down." He kept walking, slightly faster. "Luke!"

He gave a heavy sigh and halted. "I suppose you want to ask me about the little princess. Well you won't get a word out of me. No one else has."

But Priscilla had never been one to give up so easily. "Luke, I just want you to answer one question. Please?"

He sighed again and said "Alright. What is it?"

She ploughed forward, excited. "Is it true that she has a hunched back and deformed face?"

Luke balked. "Good Heavens! No! Where did you hear that?!"

Priscilla was startled. "Just outside the gate this morning when I came in for the day."

Luke thought for a moment. I have to tell the king. The truth may be unpleasant but it's certainly better than letting rumors spread like this. But how do I go about it?

As it turned out, Luke didn't need an elaborate plan. After supper when he was on his way back to the littlest princess's nursery, he found the prince's tutor standing outside the doorway.

The man was obviously frustrated about something, but it lightened somewhat when he saw Luke. "Good thing you're here. His Highness has been playing in there for far too long, and the maids won't let me so much as peak through the door. Go in and get him for me, would you? It's time for his mathematics lesson."

Luke nodded, bowed, and went through the corridor and into the nursery. There he found Crown Prince Peter sitting on the floor with the tiny princess at his feet. He was sticking his fingers into every ticklish spot he could think of, and she was curled up in a ball, trying to avoid his tickling hands.

Luke hated to interrupt them when they were clearly having such a good time, but he bowed low to the prince and said "Young master, will you please stop teasing Her Highness and go with your tutor? He's waiting outside in the hallway to take you to the library for your mathematics lesson."

But the prince just kept on tickling his sister. "Math is so boring. Can't I stay and play with her a little longer? She's so much fun to tease."

Luke nodded. "Yes sir, but I'm afraid that you will have to leave."

Peter sighed as he picked up his sister and laid her in the arms of her wet nurse. "If he wanted me, why couldn't he come in and get me?"

"Your Highness, no one is allowed to see your sister except for her family and a few servants, myself included."

Peter looked puzzled. "Why?"

"Because the king doesn't want anyone to find out about her… well, you know

The king stopped rocking. "What do you mean?"

"Well, sir, people are saying unpleasant things about the little beauty. Things like hunched backs and deformities."

The king got up, handed the baby to a nearby chambermaid, and strode out of the room. I have to tell the people the truth. I should never have let it get this far in the first place. But how do I go about it?

He decided that the best way would be to hold a royal christening, just as he had done with all of his other children. It would be an elaborate affair, with all the trappings that befitted royalty. Once he told his stewards and counselors, the word spread through Paris's information network faster than any of the previous rumors. The people were overjoyed that they would finally be able to meet their new princess. But the truth that would be unveiled was far more tragic than a deformed face.

The day of the christening dawned clear and sunny. Light streamed through the breathtaking stained glass windows of Notre Dame Cathedral, the location of the long awaited christening. Everything within the church gleamed, from the brass doorknobs to the stone floor. The square outside was bedecked with banners and flowers, and packed with townspeople. The aisle where the royal carriage would ride up had to be bordered by the king's guard to give the procession room to pass. Gold-plated carriages, knights on horseback, trumpeters, standard bearers, and numerous footmen accompanied the royal entourage to the cathedral.

When the king stepped out into the square followed by the new princess in her nurse's arms, the crowd cheered and surged forward. Everyone wanted to catch a glimpse of the mysterious princess, but the king wasn't going to let them. Quickly, he and the rest of the court swept into the cathedral.

The christening proceeded without so much as a wrinkle. The princess was named Briggina, and her uncle and aunt, the duke and duchess of Bourbon, were made her godparents. Then came the moment the king had been dreading. Briggina's veil was removed so that she could be immersed in the waters of baptism, and in that instant, all who could see the child's face gasped.

She was wearing an adorable smile, with tiny curls fringing her lovely face. Instantly all rumors of deformity and ugliness vanished from the onlooker's minds. Then they looked more closely, and beheld the terrible truth. Her eyes were not a deep green like her father's or a clear and pretty blue like her mother's. They didn't have a color. Her eyes were clouded over, blind to the world.

The king waited for their gasp of horror or cry of dismay. It didn't come. Instead, a ripple started at the opposite end of the baptismal fount. He looked up to see that the acolyte standing at the bishop's side was crying. He looked around to see other faces weeping as well. It seemed as if his whole kingdom was crying out of pity for their princess.

This was almost as frightening as the shock and disappointment he had been expecting. He decided then and there to never expose his beloved daughter to such eyes. His queen had given her life for Briggina, and that gift would not be tarnished by pity's tears. So he sheltered her, never letting her outside of palace walls and steering her clear of vicious court tongues. Very few servants were allowed to attend to her, and they were ordered to treat her as normally as possible, and to never speak of her disability, inside or outside of the palace. She would never know that she was less than perfect.

But how could she not? By the time she could talk, she knew there was something wrong with her, perhaps even before then. Her very first questions were about her condition, and what the world around her was like. The servants were torn by her innocent puzzlement. The king had forbidden them to treat her differently from any of her sisters, so they could not answer her pleas for words to fill her blackness, or make accommodations for her blindness.

She didn't know the reasons behind this ban, and it gave her no end of trouble. Her pleas for help became demands and her requests, orders. Her three year old frustrations grew into a five year old unhappiness. She could see no reason why the servants couldn't help her brush her hair, or tell her the style of a gown. By the time she turned seven, the servants had had enough. Briggina was right. The king's ban had failed to keep the truth from the princess, and was only hindering her. Besides, she was either miserable or angry, and not at all the angel her father thought she was. They went to the king, and told him that, unless he let them give her the help she desperately needed, they would all resign on the spot.

The king was caught unawares by this sudden attack. He still believed that the princess was his flawless pearl, and not a living creature who understood her flaw. He began to suspect that all was not as he thought it was, and so resolved to settle the matter with his daughter, face to face. If Briggina really had caused this, he would know the moment he saw her. The following day he called Briggina into his throne room, determined to scold her most severely. But the moment she entered the room, all thoughts of scolding evaporated.

It was as if his beloved queen stood before him once again, only younger and more beautiful. Her hair had been the same burnished gold, but Briggina's was longer and wavier. She had inherited her mother's skin, cream mixed with rose petals, and just as smooth. But Briggina's eyes were hers alone, like green-tinted pearls. Those eyes were filled with child-like innocence and unblemished purity. Once he got over this angelic appearance, he began to notice other things that disturbed him greatly. He had thought she would walk elegantly, but she tripped with every step. Her arms were out in front of her, as if warding off an attack. Everything about her spoke of hesitant caution, as if she was afraid of the world around her. He knew in that instant that he had failed to shield her, and had in fact only made things worse for her. Still, he was determined to put on a brave face for his daughter.

"I'm here, Briggina." Her head whipped around to look in his direction, although he could see her eyes still searching for the source of the voice. "Come, sit down." He then wished he hadn't. She moved even more cautiously than before, and almost tripped over the chair he offered. Still, he pressed on. "Dear daughter, why have you insisted that your servants treat you like an invalid? It is not good for your health or your future. You need to learn to act as befits a princess, as normal as possible, and the servants are trying to help you."

She sighed. "Father, you say that having the servants help me when I need it will make me an invalid, but I am more of an invalid than I would be if you hadn't told the servants to treat me like a normal girl. I had to run my hands over all my dresses before I found the one I wanted. If you were to let the servants help me with getting ready in the morning, and finding my way around the castle, I would have more time to devote to acting like a princess. My sisters could teach me how to be graceful, even if I was constantly tripping over stones I couldn't see. I could learn what fork to use by feeling the shape with my fingertips. If you allowed one of the servants to read to me, I could learn so much. Please, let me be me. "

The king would have given her the help she wanted even if she hadn't asked for it. If he couldn't shield her from the truth, what use was the ban? He retracted a section of it, letting the servants help her with her daily routine and learning the layout of the castle. However, that was as far as he was willing to go. He didn't say anything about how she was to learn court etiquette, or the various subjects suitable for a member of the royal family.

This was the beginning of many long conversations Briggina had with her father about the amount of freedom she was to be given, and what allowances were to be made for her blindness. Each time, she pushed a little harder, and he gave a little more ground on the subject. At first, she wanted accurate descriptions of rooms and places she walked into, or an object if she asked about it. Then she wanted someone to read to her. Then, she requested that someone be designated to help her throughout the day, and not just with everyday tasks. She wanted this person to act as her eyes, describing anything the princess asked about. Kathryn, one of the princess's maids, was found to be both quick tongued and dependable, and so was perfect for the position of helpmeet.

Except for these conversations when Briggina sought out her father, on formal occasions, or when he requested her company, the king didn't see much of his youngest daughter. He was the king after all, and court affairs, politics, and possible marriages demanded much of his time. But her brother, Peter, and four sisters, Maria, Acacia, Ana, and Cecelia, managed to visit her often.

When Peter needed help with his tactical exercises, or ceremonial etiquette, he came to her for a solution, or for simply a listening ear so he could voice his troubles. " How will I ever amount to anything as a king if I can't get even a simple battle plan right? I'm hopeless!"

"Brother," whispered Briggina, "you are not hopeless. You will be a great king, and not because you have memorized everything your tutors want you to learn. Your sense of justice will let you rule the people fairly. Your gentleness with me proves your compassion. There is no doubt of your courage, as our sisters will attest to. Haven't you taken on foes twice your size at the tourneys, and still emerged victorious? All these lessons are doing is honing those abilities. Now let's try again."

Her sisters, from elegant Maria to darling Cecelia, were more concerned about the suitors their father had found for them. "The earl father has in mind for me has horrible breath, and all he ever talks about is hunting." Acacia complained to her sister. "If I do accept his hand, I'll probably end up racing around on a horse, trying to keep up with him and his stags." Briggina laughed at the thought. "Acacia, if he rides so fast, he must be strong. You'd have a husband who could sweep you off your feet. Isn't that worth the bad breath?"

Briggina loved the way she was able to help build up her brother when he was struggling, and provide him with a place of solace and understanding. She adored the trust that her sisters had in her. The four of them knew that they could tell Briggina anything, and she would not only make them feel better, but would never tell anyone else what they had confided in her. The five of them came to her for every trial and joy, and she always seemed to be happily waiting for them to come knocking. To them, she was the calm in the middle of the storm of royal demands.

But, she was not as happy as her sisters and brother thought her to be. She longed to know the world outside, and to talk with someone about her own trials. After so many times of giving compassion towards others, she needed some herself concerning her greatest struggle, her blindness. But because the king had forbidden talk of it, she could not find a listening ear anywhere. She prepared herself for yet another confrontation with her father.

"Father, why have you banned all discussion of my blindness? If it is to prevent me from knowing the truth of my flaw, it has failed miserably."

The king was slow to answer. "I know that you are aware of the situation, dearest. But if you are constantly reminded of your disparity, feelings of inadequacy could make you very lonely, and if they are spoken of outside of palace walls rumors will start to fly. It's best that your condition is left unmentioned."

Briggina could have laughed, but she was careful to maintain a respectful tone. "Father, there are already rumors flying through the city, and, because they are not based on fact, they are far from the truth. If this issue were to be confronted head on, there would be less left to speculation. It becomes simple fact, something to be dealt with and overcome, while something shrouded in mystery becomes a curse. Is that how you want people to think of me, a cursed princess who can't do anything for herself?"

Once again, the king was swayed by her logical and well thought out answer. He told her that he would consider her proposal. After a week of thought and discussion with his other children and court advisors, he called Briggina into the throne room that she might hear his decision. "Very well, daughter, I will allow you to speak of it openly, and retract my ban on the subject. I am proud of you, for your intellect and reasoning are even greater than your beauty."

So the servants were told the facts, and were relieved. In truth, they had wanted to speak of it with the princess, and squash the many rumors about their beloved mistress. Kathryn in particular relished the looks on people's faces when she told them the truth about Briggina.

But the princess didn't have long to celebrate her victory. When she returned to her tower chamber, she heard someone get up from the bed. "Briggina, I have news." It was Maria. "I am engaged to Crown Prince Henry, of England." Briggina squealed with delight and ran to hug her sister. Prince Henry was young, strong, kind, and intelligent. Maria had no reasons to complain, and Prince Henry had not found fault with Maria. But Maria did not rejoice with her sister. She sighed. "I don't want to leave you, or Father, or anyone else. I'm only twenty. I don't even want to get married yet, and what if we don't like each other?" Briggina laughed gently, turned to the window, and began to sing.

"So many times out there,

I hear a happy pair

of lovers walking in the night.

I feel a kind on glow around them.

It almost feels like Heaven's light.

It's true I'll never know

that warm and loving glow,

though I might wish with all my might.

Your beauty, grace, and loving kindness

Were always meant for Heaven's light.

Now suddenly the angels smile at you.

He'll give you all his heart without a fight.

I hear your wedding bells tonight.

Your future, sister, shines so bright,

I swear it must be heaven's light."