Chapter 4: Pardon Me Whilst I Adjust My Accoutrements

When I woke from my nap, I found my new dress laid out at the foot of the bed. Despite being obscenely-colored, said bed was awfully comfortable, and I felt well-rested and refreshed as I got up to admire my new clothes.

After holding up the creation to myself and surveying it in the nearby mirror, I wiggled out of my dusty traveling dress and slid into the soft, clean new material. It was colored a deep, dark red, the color I felt went best with my light skin and dark hair. The sleeves were long and snug, with a slightly frilly cuff adorned with short black lace. The shoulders puffed out just a bit, but not ridiculously so.

The bodice was snug, but the skirt hung free and loose. Not wide and billowing like most princess dresses, but straight and lean. The neckline was nice and low - not immodestly so, but I felt exposed and a little naughty after a lifetime of nothing but collars that brushed the underside of my chin.

This neckline had no collar, the snug, fitted material concealing my breasts nicely but leaving my upper chest and neck feeling free and breezy. I gave a little twirl, feeling pleased, both with the dress and with myself.

Something was off, though. There were rings of lace around the upper sleeves, which I'd requested, but there was a bit too much of it. After studying the affect for a moment, I tugged a ring from one sleeve, then the other, the two largest pieces. The remaining lace was much more subtle; after puzzling over what to do with the leftovers, I had an idea.

I knotted the two pieces together, then tied both around my slender throat. The affect, I felt, was very becoming. In fact, garbed in a dress made just for me, instead of utilizing the design used for both my sisters and my mother, I actually felt a little pretty.

My cheeks almost had color as I left my room. "Lunchtime, Miss?" asked the guard.

"Rosie," I corrected. "Yes."

"Very good, Miss Rosie."

His eyes followed me as I started down the hall, his face looking a little pink. "You look pretty, Miss Rosie," he said, a bit bashfully.

Beaming, I did a quick curtsy. "Thank you," I said sweetly, before hurrying on my way. I had decided that a koopa thinking you were pretty was flattering.

I lunched in the kitchen, where the head cook vented her currents woes to me, then did more exploring. I walked for hours, going up one hall and down another, through room after room, and came to the unhappy conclusion that I wasn't going to figure out how to navigate this place very quickly without a map. As it stood, I was only going to be able to map out a little at a time in my head. I would be here for months at this rate.

Plus, being in the central part of the castle, there was no possible means of escape in sight. I tried to think of a logical route; down to the basement, where I could find a water channel out to the moat, perhaps. Or instead of water I might find more lava, which seemed to be as popular as fire around here.

Also popular were statues and other images of King Bowser. His royal grouchiness sure seemed to love looking at himself. I was feeling a touch vain myself today, and I paused in front of a particularly shiny statue, smoothing and primping my hair in the reflective surface.

Then the floor started to tremble, one angry, stomping footstep at a time. I instinctively moved to the side of the statue, shielding myself, though I didn't hide outright. It wasn't in my nature to duck down with a frightened squeak; after all, it wasn't me the king was angry with.

Though I wasn't sure that really made a difference, given his reputation, hence why I partly hid.

He came stomping into the dimly lit room, making the statue tremble. He looked awfully cranky, and he muttered to himself as he passed by me. "Lousy, rotten...don't they know 'royal treasury' means you're not allowed to touch it unless you're royal?"

Ah. He was still upset about his little gamblers. Still muttering, he paced the length of the room, drifting back and forth in front of me and the statue. Most of it sounded like gibberish, but I caught a few things about ways he could punish the bold offenders.

I tried to think of the last time my father had punished anyone and drew a blank. "Did they take an awful lot?" I wondered from my spot by the statue.

Bowser whirled with a startled snort. "Who're you?" he demanded crossly.

"Princess Rosabelle," I said coolly, not bothering to curtsy. I didn't think he would care about my title, but I was still annoyed with the remark he made yesterday. I do have a little pride.

As I suspected, I didn't get a reaction. Unless a blank stare counts. "The girl you kidnapped yesterday," I prompted.

"Oh - you," he growled. "Just keep out of my way, I'm in a bad mood right now."

Now there was the understatement of the century, I thought dryly as he stomped away. Although I had to wonder if his royal crankiness was ever in a good mood.

I got my answer a little while later. I was following a long corridor, keeping track of the map in my head, and judged that it came out into the other side of the courtyard. It did, and I stepped along the rough path as I walked beneath the murky, sunless sky.

I was keeping an eye out for more chain chomps - just because they liked me didn't mean I had to like them - when I heard voices. One of them was the hyper, cheerful voice of Junior, and the other I didn't recognize. It sounded like king Bowser, only he wasn't growling and fuming. Curious, I peered around a hedge and saw that it was indeed father and son, taking a leisurely stroll together.

Funny, when Bowser was talking to Junior, he didn't sound nearly as harsh. Not that he sounded soft or anything, but his tone was definitely less gruff. He almost sounded perky as he described something he had recently accomplished to Junior, who was beaming with happiness under the attention.

I was beginning to suspect there was another reason aside from age that Junior was left out of his siblings' activities; he was clearly the king's favorite. I had often heard that the youngest child was the most spoiled - a phenomenon I had only heard of.

They continued to wander and chat, and I continued to discreetly follow and listen. My mother always said that I was a little too nosy. Not nosy in the sense that I verbally pried into the affairs of others...I just liked to observe quietly. I liked to understand people, to learn all the little things that made them who they were.

Junior seemed pretty easy to figure out. Give him a few games to play and a little doting from his father, and he looked happier than a boo cornering a terrified victim. His father, on the other hand...well, I didn't really care to contemplate what might tickle his fancy.

"We've a great kingdom, huh, Dad?" Junior commented suddenly.

"We sure do," responded Bowser, with obvious pride. "Someday it'll all be yours."

"And the rest of the world," Junior added eagerly. "Well, it will be as soon as we get rid of Mario."

I had read about him, too; he was something of a hero around these parts, something my own kingdom didn't have - or need, really. Thanks to our allies, we had plenty of security and protection. We three took care of each other.

"I'm working on that as we speak," said Bowser. "If all goes well, we should be rid of that pest soon. And then I'll rule the world - and get married."

Junior wrinkled his nose. "Aw, Dad, you don't still want to marry her, do you? You should marry somebody fun and clever - like Rosie."

The very idea made me blush until it hurt. I tried to hastily back away, but I had been spotted. "And there she is now," Junior said happily as he pounced on me.

Bowser didn't seem to be listening; he continued on, talking to himself about world conquest. Junior dragged me in the opposite direction. "No more tanks," I warned.

"Aw, okay," he said, with one of his odd giggles. They were creepy, yet kind of cute at the same time...kind of like Junior himself.

"Are you hungry? I can cook," I said as he dragged me past the kitchen. I was kind of hoping we could settle on an activity that didn't involve explosives.

Junior perked up at the idea. "Really? Good! Bake me a cake!" he ordered, shoving me inside.

Dessert in the middle of the day? My own head cook would have a coronary. No one here seemed to care, so I took over one of the large ovens and prepared my own favorite dessert; double fudge cake with extra icing and cherries on top. I nibbled a small slice; Junior nearly swallowed the rest whole.

"You should take over the cooking around here," he declared - a comment the head cook took offense to and promptly shooed us out of the kitchen.

I tried to sneak away and continue exploring after that, but Junior wasn't willing to let me go. Fortunately, I was able to coax him into showing me around and telling me a little about the castle's history. He didn't know a whole lot, but he explained the few facts he was aware of with pride. One place we passed through that I made note of was the library. Not because I loved to read - which I did - but because it would give me an opportunity to read up on where I was and who I was dealing with. Knowledge would help me navigate this place - and hopefully out of it.

At dinnertime, Junior left me to head to the dining hall, and I scurried back to the kitchen for my own dinner. I had decided that I liked fetching my own meals. This way I was able to eat what I wanted, when I wanted it, and no one ate with me, eyeing my small portions and trying to coax me to eat more.

What can I say? People as small as me don't have big appetites. Although I did notice that I was eating more in this place. There was so much food, I couldn't help taking a little more than normal as I sampled things.

After I finished eating I went to my room, then grimaced and headed back out again. "Something needs to be done about all that pink," I muttered.

I wasn't sure how long I was going to be stuck here, and I didn't think I could handle sleeping amidst that hue for much longer.

Junior came to get me while I was mulling over the problem. "Shouldn't you be in bed by now?" I asked as he started dragging me away.

"Nuh-uh!" he said, indignant. "I'm a big boy now, so I get to stay up late."

I hid a smile. "If you say so. I was going to tuck you in and tell you a story, but..."

I soon found myself in the little prince's bedchamber. It was similar to the king's, only smaller, and full of toys and other treasures. There was a private bathroom, too, which I made sure Junior used to wash up and comb his tangled shock of red-orange hair.

Afterward he climbed into bed, and I sat down and started telling him one of the many stories my mother told me when I was small. He fell asleep long before it was finished, and I, smiling, pulled the covers to his chin and left quietly.

I returned to my own room, though I cringed at the thought of going inside. The guard saw my hesitation and asked, "Something the matter, Miss Rosie?"

"Yes, actually. Since it seems I might be here for some time, would it be possible to redecorate my room a little?"

"I don't see why not," the guard said thoughtfully. "I'll have the boys get on it first thing in the morning."

I thanked him and then, steeling myself, went inside. After dimming all the lights, things looked a little less pink. I hadn't a nightgown and I didn't want to wrinkle my new dress, so, though it was a little embarrassing, I wiggled out of it, hung it up carefully and climbed into bed in my underclothes.

I lay quietly for a while, my thoughts drifting around as I grew sleepy. All in all, this was a weird situation, but I wasn't nearly as bad off as I could be. I technically wasn't a prisoner (though I don't think I quite qualified as a guest, either) and everyone was nice to me, for the most part. It was funny, but I kind of liked that I wasn't seen as a princess here. People didn't put on airs as a result, and they weren't surprised when I did unprincess-like things.

I was still going to search for a way out of here so I could go home and see my sister's wedding, but in the meantime, I wasn't uncomfortable or unhappy here. In fact, in a lot of ways, I felt oddly at home here.

Not that I planned to take up root here, mind you. But at least I wasn't miserable.