A princess? Of course I'm a princess! To suggest otherwise is ridiculous, preposterous and, and completely insulting! I'm married to a crown prince, aren't I? I mean . . .Obviously I am now, but before? I don't know and I've been deliberately been avoiding finding out. My dad's a prince, so technically I must be, right? I would be second in line to the throne if things had worked out like they were supposed to, but as it happened . . .
You know the story, don't you? Three princes, they go off on some adventure, the first two fail miserably, and the third wins the hand of the princess and half a kingdom. So what happens to the kingdom they come from? That's why Nan and Granddad had my father. Unfortunately, Prince One ch- yes, One and Two were their names. Well, they're dead or gone by the time they're twenty you wouldn't want to form an emotional attachment – anyway, Uno choose the only quest that didn't have a land package with it, so Gregory (that's my third uncle) comes back home with a princess and nowhere to keep her. I suppose it's lucky my dad always preferred astronomy to statecraft. So we moved into a little observatory just outside the capital. And I liked it there, I did, and I love my family, it's just . . . I'm a second daughter. I mean sure I may not be gorgeous blond hair blue eyes like Cinders but I resent being called ugly. And being second, I didn't get to do anything just stand there and snigger. That's why I ran away. That's how I ended up here.
It was a dark and stormy night. You may groan at the cliché but being in it . . . Your entire world narrows down to one step in front of you. The rain is torrential, as if whole oceans have been ripped into shreds to be dropped on your head and the wind beats you black and blue and the cold that ignores all clothing, all skin and flesh to wrap its fingers around your bones. The noise crashes like cannons only to be replaced by long moments of deafening silence, I didn't even hear a horse until I was pulled up onto it. It is very easy to fall in love with whoever saves you from that. And my rescuer was Prince Fitzwilliam James Edward Van Helderen III, with his dark smoldering eyes and big strong arms that wrapped around tight protecting me from the storm. We talked a little bit, well yelled, whatever, and by the time we had reached the castle we knew we should never be parted. That is, if his mother approved.
The Queen is a lovely lady, brilliant hostess, can pull together a royal ball like a fairy godmother on speed, but she just the little tiniest bit obsessed with the whole princess thing. She travelled 42 countries and three continents trying to find the perfect bride for her darling Fitzy. The first time she met me she was not impressed and to be fair I suppose I did bear a striking resemblance to a drowned rat. She kept dropping hints about it "Do you remember that princess in Lithuamarama who sang like a bird but had feet like dinner plates? You see my dear, no one but the perfect princess is worthy for my son. Or that one in Gaurdo, she was doing so well until she lost her balance, fell into the pond and came out dripping wet." Luckily I was too completely absorbed in Fitz to notice. It wasn't until bedtime that I realised she meant business.
50 mattresses there were on that bed. Have you ever stopped to think about how high that actually is? A mattress was about 20 centimeters, there were some smaller pallets and some bigger feather ones but they averaged out at about 20. Multiply by 50 divide by 100 and you get 10. Ten meters above the ground I was to be sleeping. And I did! For about five minutes until I rolled over and fell off. But I climbed back up. I grew quite the expert, avoiding the satiny finishes, grabbing a firm hold on the embroidered cotton, learning where shorter mattresses gave toe holds.
I was an exhausted wreck of bruises the next morning, and the Queen asked how I slept. But it was worth it to see her expression as she examined the purple green flower blossoming on my arm.
The pea is in the Royal Museum, encased in glass on a little purple cushion. I visit it often. Fitz heckles me mercilessly, and my children groan everytime I broach the subject, but I think it's important to pay my respects to the vegetable. Because now I am going to live happily ever after.