Katlin had to pee.
Growing up, sure, she had played at princess, dressing herself in stiff pink tulle and twirling underfoot. But one thing that she had never considered is that when you were actually a princess, no one bothered to consider that you might be hungry. Or tired.
Or have to pee.
Katlin shifted on the throne, trying her best not to look as uncomfortable as she felt. The handmaidens had laced her into a corset so tight that it pinched painfully at her waist and underarms. The skirt was itchy. The crown was heavy. And the last half dozen or so babies that she had kissed were starting to blur together. Although that one baby that had spit up in her face managed to stand out.
The prince had taught her several key phrases in the native language. "Bless you, my child," "A thousand years of prosperity," "May you and all your descendents prosper." The way the prince was wincing at her pronunciation, though, Katlin was fairly sure that she told the last set of peasants something awful instead. She squirmed and shot him a pleading look.
There was still a line of well wishers out the door, but the prince stood, clapped his hands, and announced that her royal highness, queen of all creation, required a moment of respite in which to consult the oracles. The crowd groaned in frustration, but Katlin breathed a deep sigh of relief. The prince took her hand, and led her through a door into a room that was blissfully empty.
"Are you alright?"
Katlin croaked a little.
"Goddess bless, how tightly do they have you tied in this thing? Here." The prince stood behind her and began pulling at the strings of her corset. "You'd think you were a sausage, not a girl. Can you even – breathe?" The corset sprung open, and Katlin took a deep gasp, relishing in the sudden freedom.
"No, not really," Katlin joined in the shucking, pushing the puffy sleeves down her arms. The prince wrapped an arm around her and lifted her straight out of the dress. Katlin popped free like a cork from a bottle. She laughed and straightened her petticoat. The ceremonial gown remained standing, held aloft by its own stiffness, like an absurd princess cocoon. "See? You don't even need me in the dress." Katlin shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Is there a necessary room?"
The prince laughed and pointed, and Katlin scurried with as much dignity as she could muster.
Returning some minutes later, she found the prince accepting a pair of goblets from a servant. "Thirsty?"
"Yes," Katlin took the proffered golden goblet and drank deeply. She sighed. "Thanks."
The prince dismissed the servant with a wave. "The drawbacks of royalty, I'm afraid. You're not allowed to be tired, or hungry, or even thirsty."
Katlin took another deep drink. "Never thought about it, really."
"No. How old are you?"
"Twenty."
"Twenty what?"
"Oh. Years. Uh, Earth years, so like…."
The prince smiled. "Do you want to get out of here?"
"But, the people…"
"Oh, they can wait." The prince grabbed her hand and pulled. Katlin dropped the goblet as she dragged her by the hand to the back wall. The prince pushed aside a tapestry, threw open a wooden door, and drug her into a dark tunnel, lit at intervals by shimmering torches.
Katlin laughed "A secret tunnel?" Their shadows flickered on the stone as they ran.
"A clandestine escape!" The prince agreed. He dropped her hand to shoulder open another wooden door. Katlin's nose filled with the smell of hay, and she followed the prince into what was unmistakably the palace stables. A half dozen servants, apparently used to the prince's sudden arrivals, bowed. A horse, already saddled, was led to the prince, who swung easily into the saddle. He leaned down and proffered a hand. "Come on, you're queen of the world, don't you want to see some of it?"
Katlin felt a grin creeping across her face. She accepted his hand, put one foot into a stirrup, and hoisted herself up. The prince wrapped an arm around her waist and spurred the horse forward. "Yah!"
The liveried men at the stable doors had barely enough time to throw open the stable. The horse thundered into the sunlight, and Katlin shrieked with delight. The prince galloped the horse through the neatly manicured gardens, dodging through hedges and over a flowerbed. The gardens gave way to tall grass, and as the horse raced through, a flock of nesting birds exploded to the sky, squawking indignantly. Katlin laughed, throwing her arms wide. The wind whistled in her ears.
After some time the Prince slowed the horse to a trot, and finally to a slow walk. The grassland faded to sand, and they approached the edge of a long, still lake. The prince dismounted. "This is my favorite spot." He helped Katlin out of the saddle. "My mother used to bring me here."
Katlin stirred the sand with her slippered feet. "It's lovely."
"Mmm." The prince picked up a few pebbles, then bent and skipped them across the surface. "I still come here to think. Our religion says that our ancestors can hear us through the water. Bunch of nonsense really, but sometimes…" He paused, and skipped another stone. "Something I think… well, my mother's spirit is strongest here." He laughed, quietly.
"Your mother passed?"
"Yes, many years ago."
"I'm sorry. And your father?"
"He died just last year."
"Oh." Katlin picked up a pebble of her own. "But then why are you still a prince, and not a king?" She attempted to skip the stone across the surface of the lake. It sank with a plop.
"Oh, the head of state is always called The Prince. It's rather difficult to become King. No one has ever managed." He threw his last stone across the water. "Not sure I'll manage it, now, either," he whispered. He dusted his hands together. "Well, come on. Let's get you back and back into that suit of armor of a dress. Can't keep you here all day."
He lifted Katlin into the saddle and swung up behind her. They returned to the palace at a slow walk. "You know," he said quietly into her ear. "You would always be welcome here in my palace. You could stay."
Katlin stiffened a little. At the doors to the stable, he dismounted and held his arms out to Katlin. She let him lift her from the horse. Katlin cleared her throat. "I'm… I'm Starfleet. I have to go back. I can't just… stay."
"Of course," the prince said. He clapped her lightly on the shoulder. "Well, if you're ever passing through this way again, you'd be welcome."
Katlin smiled, warily.
The prince led her back through the tunnel. "You've done me a great service," he said. "I find it hard to believe it's merely an accident of birth that you're the spitting image of the queen." They found themselves back in the stone antechamber, the stiff ceremonial dress still upright, but listing to one side. The two of them wrestled it back over her head, and the prince tugged at the lacing, trying to truss Katlin back into place.
"There," he said finally, "That will have to do." He placed the giant headdress back on her head, and absently brushed at her hair. His hand lingered.
There was a knock at the door. "Your highness?" called a servant.
"We're coming!" The prince took Katlin's hand and led her back to the crowd.