Being Princess is no Fun
Hey guys. Sorry I've been gone so long. Work and stuff gets in the way. Let's make up for lost time.
xxx
A cauldron. A cauldron! A-STUPID-CAULDRON! Almost two weeks past since the disarray in Lyndor, and that wound in Lydia's pride widened ten times. It would close for an hour or two. Then when she thinks about all the trouble the witches put her, Cedric, and Constable Miles through for fancy cookery...let's just say Herlio Village needed an irrigation trench. Lydia's demolition and earth based spells received a rigorous workout. The Mayor simply asked - begged on his hands and knees - that she minimize the destruction to the schematics he provided.
"Honey, I've become engaged to King Roland," Miranda's letter summarily read, "You and Sofia are going to be princesses." Somehow, on paper, the nuptial promotion sound more regal and exciting. Being a sorceress for a carnival side act is more regal. Ever since she returned to Enchancia - gaining a new family and new life the silver lining - all Lydia has been pressured about is her representation of King Roland, the traditions a princess must follow, and how she presents herself when visiting lands or greeting guests. Let's not forget the manner she must conduct herself when being served to suitors on a silver platter after she legally turns 18. In other words, Lydia is King Roland's Step-Daughter and Peacock Princess. Main obligation: ensure King Roland and Enchancia look good.
Where is this all coming from, one might ask. Why is Princess Lydia fuming after receiving a mission of dire urgency? She was entrusted with a task of great significance. Most princesses dream of acting as envoys. Why is she disparaging her role? Because the whole thing was an absolute joke, that's why! Strapped to Cedric, dropped from a cloud, UBOS EXPOSED TO WORMWOOD - for what? Two witches with nothing better to do while they wait? They had to cause problems that would have blown over in another day? Lydia has more important things to worry about than a passing storm. The spells she could have mastered in the time it took them to solve the case of the flying pigs! Her sorcery is already mocked because she lost to Cedric: famed failure sorcerer. Regardless of the damage he caused. Learning Lydia was bamboozled over kitchenware will ruin her. Absolutely pathetic.
"Umm. Excuse me, Lydia." A finger tapped her shoulder. Roland snuck up behind her in the library. He was being pelted by rain...inside? "Keep this up and you'll flood the castle." He gestured to the ceiling and floor. Thunderous storm clouds flooded the library to Lydia's ankles.
"Oh! Sorry, Dad!" Lydia frantically waved the clouds away. She stuck her wand in the water. A twist and a pull, a carpeted cork popped off. The water flushed down the drain. The carpet and walls dried completely once the water was gone. "Guess my brainstorm turned into a typhoon." Her cheeks flushed bashful pink.
"So I see..." Roland disrobed his jacket, draping it to a chair. "Mind my asking what's brewing your storm?" He joined her at the oval table.
"Nothing much. Just...stuff..." She trailed off, anxiously interlacing her outstretched fingers. Roland arched an incredulous brow. He leaned on an elbow, wordlessly prying the stifled truth from her tight shied her attention to the floor.
"Is that so?" Roland pressured, drumming fingers on the table. "Becuase - correct me if I'm wrong - you have the wrinkle in your brow when you're really bothered."
"What wrinkle?!" She gasped. She prodded her forehead.
"That one." He pressed his middle finger to the center of her brow. He dragged her brow too a frown. Lydia scrucnhed her reddening nose. "Your mother says you've been doing it ever since you were little. She'd be able to tell instantly something's bothering you when your brow wrinkles."
"A lot of people's brows wrinkle." She rumbled through puffed cheeks.
"But yours differs by the way it sticks."
A very persistent father she's got. He's hit the nail on the head too. "Can you not let this go?" She moved his hand away.
"Only if you tell me what's bothering you."
"Fine." She conceded. She see's where James and Amber get their persistence from. "That whole mission to Lyndor turned out to be a complete waste of time!" She said outright. No sense in sugarcoating it.
"Oh? How so?" Roland sounded genuinely intrigued.
"If we had just waited another day or two, Lucinda and her mom would have left and the storm would have blown over. Like it did in the other towns."
"That's true..." Roland bobbed his head. "Like leaving squashed tomatoes for the rain to clean."
Lydia's mind stumbled and rammed head on into a speed bump. "Say what now?" He totally lost her.
"An old metaphor my father told me." Roland winked. He found it strange too when he was a boy. "A harvest season 13 years ago, a hefty toll of tomato crops rotted and went to waste. The stench coming from them made onions weep." Lydia could only imagine that smell. "Disgusted by their withered crop, and in dire need of some fun from the wasted work, villagers far and wide collected the rotted tomatoes and began a war."
"A war?" Lydia gasped.
"Harmless fun of throwing rotten tomatoes at friends. Although, the down side, that harmless fun left a huge mess. The streets were covered with squashed tomatoes."
"Eww..."
"Indeed. Luckily, rain was expected. The first village hit was cleaned after a full night of rain. The second, not as good, but left little to clean."
"What about the third?"
"That's just it. The rain never came for them."
"No way!" She exclaimed in disbelief.
"The villagers waited day in and day out. No one cleaned the tomatoes under the belief the rain would come. By the time someone realized how foul the tomatoes smelt, they were too tough to clean. Took them weeks to finish what could have been done in hours."
"That really stinks..." She trailed off, missing the moral of the story.
"The towns before Hamil were spared after a few days, yes?"
"Uh-huh..."
"Perhaps Hamil would have been spared. But how do you, we, or they know that?" He quizzed slyly. Lydia swayed her eyes side to side, lost again. She thinks she might know what he means. "Say we waited - like the villagers. The witches decide to stay and the problem became worse." The arrow struck Lydia in the reality. "While the end result seems like a waste of time to you, it meant the world to the Marquess to have someone help alleviate their problems." Lydia blushed shamefully. She fiddled her hands in her lap. Thinking on what she had said, shem ust have sounded llike a horrible person. "Don't be so hard on yourself." Roland rocked her shoulders. "I felt the same as you during my father's rule. Diplomatic travels for situations I thought beneath me. Never crossed my mind how important the matter is to those I'm helping."
"Though I sincerely doubt you were disparaged by other officer." She inserted irately.
"How do you mean?"
"You should have heard that Captain of the Marquess look down on me!" The mere mentioning of it frizzed her hair on end. Literally. She had to flattened it a couple times. "If I was a prince, no one would ever be doubting me!"
"I suppose that standard is still in practice." Roland pensively stroked his chin. "But I seem to recall an elder daughter of mine who has proven she's more capable than a prince." He wrapped an arm to her shoulders. "The younger emulated that achievement in flying derby."
"Still doesn't change the fact that I'm underestimated." She grumbled, folding her arms. "Princess Sorceress is sounding more like a taunt than a praise." This is neglecting to mention no one's letting her forget she lost to Cedric. Nevermind the fight she put up.
"I highly doubt that is the reason behind your demolition irrigation in Herlio."
Lydia gulped nervously on air. all across her nose was bright red. "You...know about that?" She trembled.
"Lydia, everybody knows about that." He cooed disgruntled.
"Really?" She sank. "Great." She pouted her folded arms on the table, burying half her face. "I can hear them now. That's King Roland's daughter? What a disappointment."She crudely mocked a man. "Doubt they'll be as kind."
"Might I ask where all this hostility is coming from?" Roland was a little confused. He needed some sort of answer. "This all seems out of the blue to me." Lydia released a depressed breath. She curled her fingers, buttoning her lips. "Come on. You can tell me."
Lydia mustered her dormant courage. She furrowed her brow. "I am my own person! I have my own name, my own skills, my own contributions to society!" Roland bobbed his head, agreeing full heartedly. But there's more. "It's obvious I'm standing right there! So why is it it seems as if everyone's staring right through me to see you?"
"Ah. I understand." This discontent is deriving from Lydia's sprouted unease toward her representing Enchancia. Roland. "Prince or Princess - Tilly and I were completely invisible whilst our parents were in the room." Roland stated somberly. It stung him to this day how often they were overlooked. "Our interests, hobbies - all anyone was interested in was our parents and their achievements. As if taunting us with the great things they accomplished. Indirectly warning us to measure up."
"Grandpa died proud." Lydia bluntly admitted." Hmph. Guess you're going to be disappointed."
"Now why would you say that?"
"I don't measure up to you, Dad!" She jumped from her chair. "I'm not you! So why should people expect me to be?" She turned her back to him, crossing her arms.
Roland was taken aback. She's thought about this for a while. It's genuinely bothering her. He wondered if she somehow heard of Abraham's last visit. His disdain of Lydia continuing her magic studies was growing heated by the day. Roland declared his indifference to the matter. It was and is none of King Abraham's concern what Lydia chooses to do with her life. Roland was reluctant himself at first. But with all the naysayers, he's confident Lydia will make her dream a reality. in fact, he's so sure, he found it prudent to show Lydia what he received in the mail.
"This is for you." Roland handed her a folded paper. "It arrived from Lyndoor this morning."
"Lyndor?" The paper bore Lyndor's Crest. She opened it up. It was from Marquess ursa.
Dear King Roland II,
I hope this parcel finds you in good health.
Words cannot express how elated I am to have this 'witch' business settled and over.
Many of the citizens driven away or into hiding have returned. They have returned to their normal lives and are living each day to the fullest. It brings a smile to my face knowing they can exit their homes and not hear cats barking, or be frightened by flying brooms. Ha-ha-ha.
Lydia doesn't blame her. She flinched at falling brooms because of Lucinda and Marla. I wonder what those two are up to right now.
"Keep reading." Roland stopped her before she became distracted.
I espeically wish to convey my gratitude to Princess Lydia.
Lydia fluttered, stunned by the recognition.
Never in all my years have I met a woman like her. Her outside the box thinking, as well as her leadership and ability to take direction from others inspired me. Adversity mowed mmany down. It only drove her.
There is still much for the young princess to learn. Her youthful spirit, unfortunately, makes her a victim of impulsive outbursts. Her colorful vocabulary shall remain anonymous. While it pleases me she and the royal sorcerer are good friends, it would serve her beneficially to stifle their rowdy banter.
Lydia blushed bashfully, rubbing the back of her neck. Wait a minute! We are not friends! She kept reading. Cedric her friend - PUH!
I look forward to the day His Highness and his family can visit my great land of Lyndor. It would be an honor and dellight to share tea with you. A token of apppreciation for your help in our dire hour.
Please take care.
Sincerely,
Marquess Ursa of Lyndor.
Lydia was touched, as well as enlightened. And a little embarrassed. She may have a tendency of getting too boisterous when worked up. Other opinions notwithstanding.
"Being royalty isn't always regal." Roland assured her. "It carries many duties, obligations, and responsibilities. It is very often we found ourselves in situations we don't like. How we handle them determines who we will become as we grow."
"What does that say about me?" She dreaded.
"I'm afraid you're still too young to be properly assessed. You've only been princess for a short time." Feels like she's been there for years. "But your repertoire as a sorceress is what defines you currently." A jury's out comment. That a good thing or a bad thing. Lydia's magic is as flamboyant as her personality. "As my daughter - as princess - many will look past you to me - The King and Sire of Enchancia - because of my experience, and because of the respect I have accumulated." Roland laid that bare. A similar dismay he suffered as prince. "However, for every five that look to me, two will see the dedication and determination you display and flock. Proving yourself to others is not as important as proving yourself to you."
"What do you mean proving myself to me? How do you even do that"
"You'll understand one day." Roland offered her his arm. "For now, let's go eat. Ihere's jiggly-wiggly pudding for dessert."
"MY FAVORITE!" Lydia clung to his arm.
"Mine too! I can eat three bowls." He stroked his stomach.
"Is that all, lightweight? I can eat four."
"Is that a challenge?"
"What challenge? No way you can keep up with me."
"My Dear Lady, you are on."
To be continued.