The Secret of the Seven Princesses

The proclamation was sent out the next morning and set tongues wagging across the countryside, of the curious kingdom where the hand of a royal daughter was to be offered simply for solving a riddle. Men of all ranks and walks of life expressed interest in trying their hand at cracking the puzzle of the princesses of Kyoria, but the repercussions for failure seemed too great for many to risk. Kyorians of lower social status—though having the greatest incentives for trying to elevate themselves—were discouraged from the contest by the threat of banishment from their homeland and the fear of destitution in a foreign land, not only for them but also for their parents, siblings, and other dependents. Meanwhile, those from neighboring kingdoms were prevented from entering the contest merely through lack of funds and provisions that would enable them to travel. Therefore, one could conclude that, though the contest was offered to any man willing and able, the only ones who would take such a gamble were noblemen who had little to lose, everything to gain, plenty of time on their hands, and the arrogance to believe that outsmarting seven females would be a walk in the park.

These considerations, as explained by Cliodne to all of her sisters, did little in easing Thaleia's mind. She lived in constant apprehension that the next moment would bring an ominous knock announcing the arrival of the first blockhead with the gall to seek to win the hand of a princess. Her preoccupation with the prince contest took its toll on her usual activities; her swordplay suffered drastically and she fell from her horse for the first time in years. She almost began to wish that the first contestant would appear already, if only to end this insufferable limbo.

Her dubious wish was granted before she had time to regret it. Prince Tavle of Auchlin, the younger son of the ruler to the north, presented himself to King Gustave within a week of the ruler's proclamation, apologizing for his delay and attributing it to his need to collect a suitable retinue and hire a capable guide to read the maps.

Fortunately for Thaleia, she was able to keep out of Tavle's sight until the dinner hour due to her wide repertoire of convenient hiding places around the stables and adjoining fields. Cliodne and Eurielle were not so lucky, however. As Thaleia entered the dining room and took her seat, fixedly avoiding looking at the bejeweled person sitting to Gustave's left, she took note of the badly suppressed look of disgust on Cliodne's face.

Eurielle, leaning across the table, hissed wryly, "You just wait!"

Thaleia did not know what it was she was supposed to be waiting for. The room was relatively quiet, with only the clinks of silverware and the sounds of gazpacho being slurped from their spoons. Aside from being rather more elaborately dressed than anyone else sitting at the table, there was nothing particularly odd or offensive about Prince Tavle. It seemed as though he would give them no other incentive to hate him than simply being the first guinea pig to jump at their father's invitation.

And then he opened his mouth. Perhaps he felt that the silence was rather oppressive. Maybe he was accustomed to more stimulating conversation. Or maybe he just liked to hear the sound of his own voice. At any rate, Prince Tavle felt the need to remark to the princesses at large:

"During the tour of the castle, your benevolent father was magnanimous enough to show me your most excellent library. Might I ask whether you often have occasion to make use of it?"

Thaleia did not feel herself equal to match his formal language; her hesitation was obviously shared by several of her sisters, as they all looked expectantly at the three eldest for a response.

"Indeed, sir," Eralie responded softly, daintily wiping her mouth with her napkin. "We all make use of the library and its resources almost daily. If you should wish to find a particular book yourself, my sister Callia would be most equipped to assist you, as she is best acquainted with the room's layout and literature."

Prince Tavle's ingratiating smile encompassed all the princesses, though he turned his attention to directly address Callia.

"I do so admire ladies who know how to read. It gives such an impression of intelligence." A stunned pause followed his response, though Tavle seemed unaware of the nature of the silence. Thaleia's spoon halted midway to her mouth, and her jaw dropped open even further. Eurielle gave her a significant look, as if to say Didn't I tell you? Several of the girls stared at him in disbelief, as though they were wondering if they'd misheard or misunderstood his implication.

But it didn't stop there.

Prince Tavle seemed to have an inordinate talent for unintentionally sticking his foot in his mouth. He was completely oblivious to the offensiveness of his attempted compliments, all of which were received in much the same manner as his first.

To Cliodne: "Your hands are so delicate and fragile, you must be quite skilled at needlepoint."

To Eurielle: "It's wonderful to become acquainted with a girl when she has yet to bloom into her beauty."

To Thaleia and Raia: "I have always been fascinated by the notion of having a twin! Imagine, you could live one another's life and not a one would be the wiser."

To Eralie: "You have a particularly fresh and youthful complexion for the oldest of seven sisters."

To Petra: "I find it pleasurable to make the acquaintance of a lady with a hearty appetite. Far too many women find it fashionable to be thin."

Thaleia could see that, despite his stoic expression, her father was not completely immune to the ineptitude of their 'guest'. With every subsequent statement by Prince Tavle, his shoulders moved in the slightest of winces, as if steeling himself. Thaleia had to restrain herself from reverting to her old habits and chucking a baked potato at the prince's carefully coiffed head. Raia's eyes were full of tears—a sign that either indicated deep emotion or that she was hopping mad. Knowing her as she did, Thaleia was willing to wager her solid gold fencing foil on the latter. Similar expressions of ire were reflected in all of her sisters' faces, with the exception of Petra. As always, Petra's face looked as though it had been etched in stone, expressionless and blank. The only indication of her true feelings was held in her fist: a soup spoon that had been bent nearly in two from the pressure of her thumb.

The only good thing about Prince Tavle's overtly obsequious nature was that, so intent on complimenting each of the princesses, neither he nor Gustave noticed when Cliodne emptied a small vial into his wine glass. The princesses had experimented with the dosages of the valerian root in order to determine the proper amount that would ensure that their victim would fall asleep at the exact moment when they wanted him to: not so early that he would be dozing at the dinner table, yet not so late that he could prevent them from their midnight exploits.

At the earliest possible moment, Thaleia all but fled from the dinner table to the temporary sanctity of their room. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she shuddered at the thought that even here, they would be expected to play host to their guest, according to the stipulations of the competition itself.

One by one, her sisters trickled through the door, varying degrees of disgust and irritation on their faces. Rather than retreating to their individual beds, they joined Thaleia on hers, their skirts fanning over the covers in a rainbow of different shades. Eralie, the last to arrive, informed them, "Father invited the prince to join him in a nightcap before he showed him to...before he showed him upstairs. He said that would give us plenty of time to prepare for bed."

Thaleia nodded woodenly, the corner of her mouth twitching in an instinctive grimace. "I hope the root works quickly tonight. I don't know how much more I can take."

Eurielle was the only one who giggled, albeit dryly. The princesses rose from their places on Thaleia's bed and began their nightly routines, changing their clothes as quickly as possible so as not to be caught off guard when the telltale knock came.

By the time the door opened to admit Judith, the seven sisters were clothed and sitting in their respective beds.

"Good ev'nin', your Majesties," she said cheerfully, curtseying and making her way to her own cot in the corner. "Things are a mite diff'rent t'night, yeah?" She fluffed her pillow absentmindedly.

Thaleia chuckled without an ounce of humor. "Indeed they are, Judith."

"I s'pect we'll have to forego our little routine in light o' the prince's arrival." By the tone of her voice, this was the most regretted repercussion of Prince Tavle's visit.

Raia swung her slippered feet over the edge of her bed and stood. "Of course not! We've all come to enjoy and rely upon it. I don't see the harm, so long as he has not yet arrived." She pulled a crystal decanter from inside her trunk. Thaleia leapt from beneath her covers to help her twin pour the wine, shielding Judith's glass from view with her arm as Raia slipped the dose of valerian root into the goblet as always—a larger dose than they had given to the prince, as the effects needed to be more immediate.

They dispersed the wine and, raising their goblets in their customary toast, all eight women drank deeply. Thaleia jerked at the sound of a knock on the door, the last few drops from her glass spilling onto the floor. She exchanged a panicked glance with Raia, Cliodne, and even Justine.

"Hide it, hide it!" she hissed, shoving her empty goblet under her bed and using the corner of her nightgown to mop the drops of wine from the floorboards. Settling back into her pillow, she watched warily as Judith checked again that all evidence of the wine had disappeared before opening the door to admit Gustave, Valeria, and, of course, Prince Tavle.

For the first time all evening, Prince Tavle chose silence, perhaps realizing that the delicacy of the situation was uncomfortable enough for all involved parties. He followed a step behind King Gustave, flaring his cape out impressively as if trying to create the illusion of it blowing in the wind. Thaleia rolled her eyes. With the sapphires sewn into the hem, she doubted that anything short of hurricane gales could budge the fabric of his cape.

Gustave stopped in the middle of the chamber and pointed towards the far left corner of the room, where two rolling partitions had been set up around an additional cot. This tiny space was the assigned 'guest room' for the contestants, and was clearly not meant to be the most comfortable, as the men were not supposed to be sleeping, in any case. As Tavle moved to claim his spot, Gustave broke his self-imposed silence for the first time.

"I must ask you to remember, Prince Tavle, the reason for your presence here. If you are able to solve the mystery behind my daughters' odd behavior within the course of this night, you will have the choice of one of them as your bride. I grant you this on my word as king."

Tavle seemed about to interrupt with no doubt another questionable compliment, but Gustave continued without heeding him.

"Should you fail, however, you will leave this castle tomorrow and never step foot here again. Do we understand one another?"

The prince seemed a bit cowed by the king's imposing manner, but still managed a slight speech in response: "As ever, Your Majesty is both gracious and just, and I perfectly acquiesce and comprehend the stipulations of your competition. I know that your daughters are the loveliest and most accomplished maids that Kyoria has to offer, and I welcome the challenge in proving my own worth to marry into your respectable family, despite the risks." Gustave's lips tightened almost imperceptibly to a stranger's eyes, but Thaleia smirked upon recognizing the sign of her father's annoyance, having been on the receiving end of that look numerous times.

The king turned to depart from the room, then paused and turned back around. "One thing more, Prince Tavle. Should you attempt anything…untoward…in your behavior towards my daughters, you will find that banishment will be the least of your worries. This I swear to you, on my honor as king."

Thaleia felt a rush of love for her father upon hearing this addition to her speech, and yet, considering that his proclamation was the reason for Tavle's presence in the first place, she still felt guilt-free in pulling the wool over his eyes. Gustave exited the room, followed shortly thereafter by Valeria, who quietly bestowed her good night wishes on the girls, then left, casting disapproving looks at the shadow of Tavle behind the partition.

Left alone with the princesses at last, Prince Tavle tried vainly to engage them in conversation.

"I must say, I'm somewhat disappointed that your windows are so small," he began, his voice accompanying a rustling nose that Thaleia supposed meant he was settling onto his cot. "I should have liked to see the beautiful, starlit sky at night…as beautiful as the prettiest of you princesses." An awkward silence followed this statement; Thaleia wasn't sure what to think of this one, whether to laugh or challenge him to a duel. She would have won, anyway.

Petra spoke up at last, saying, "Well, then, that's good to know…good night."

Tavle didn't seem to take Petra's thinly veiled hint, nor did he seem to hear Eurielle's deep, loud, and obnoxiously fake snoring coming from the opposite side of the room. "Yes, the stars can be quite beautiful, you see. I remember when I was just—"

Prince Tavle trailed off mid-sentence, snores replacing the words that no one cared enough to hear. On silent feet, Thaleia stole over to the two spare cots, checking each one to ensure that its occupant was fast asleep. The familiar deep breathing of Justine mingled with the prince's light, airy snores. She shook him hard to make sure that it was truly the root that had taken effect and not simply exhaustion.

"Prince Tavle? Sir?"

Snores were her only answer.

"Sir Foot-in-the-Mouth?" Eurielle said in a sing-song voice. Her weak joke was rewarded with a few small chuckles as the six other princesses arose to join Thaleia in a cluster around the inert form of the sleeping royal.

Raia leaned in and studied his face intently before nodding in satisfaction. "He's out."

Petra moved forward and grabbed Prince Tavle's arms none-too-gently. "Thaleia, help me move him."

"What?" Callia asked. "Why?"

"Because I don't want him in this room any longer than is needed. And especially not alone, even asleep."

"But how are you going to get out?" Cliodne hissed. "The door's locked."

Petra shot her a wounded look. "You don't really think that after years of being locked into my own room, I wouldn't have figured out a way to get out?" Her question clearly didn't require an answer. "Now, Thaleia, if you don't mind…"

Thaleia grabbed one booted foot, and Cliodne the other. The princesses heaved, and, between the three of them, were able to easily support Prince Tavle's deadweight. It would be a trial moving him through the castle without being seen, but she had no doubt that they could manage it with Petra's superior knowledge of the lesser-traveled passageways.

"Where did you have in mind?" Thaleia grunted.

Petra's smile was almost evil. "Just trust me."

Thaleia expected an extreme reaction. It was therefore no surprise when Gustave made another early visit to the princesses' bedchamber the next morning. He stormed in the door, startling all but Eurielle awake. Following close behind him was Prince Tavle. Both men were shaking, Gustave from anger and Tavle from—Thaleia could only presume, considering where they'd left him—fear.

"You left him on the roof?" Gustave bellowed, his face purpling. Tavle winced at the mere word. Eurielle jerked awake, joining her sisters in consciousness.

Petra sat up in bed, stretching her arms above her head with as much leisure as a cat. "But Father, we were only trying to be good hostesses."

Gustave swelled in indignation. "Is this what you call hospitality?"

Petra's smile was nothing short of angelic. "He said he wanted to see the stars. We assumed he knew how to get down."

The king opened and closed his mouth several times, at such a loss for words that he resembled a carp clothed in royal purple. Finding nothing at all to say, he contented himself with sending a fierce glare around the room, throwing his hands up in the air and stomping his way out of the chamber. The violent thunk of his boots punctuated his anger in a way that words never could. Prince Tavle meekly followed him from the room, seemingly unsure whether all of King Gustave's anger was directed towards his daughters, or whether he might not receive his own share for failing in his appointed task.

The door had only just closed behind Tavle's departing figure when Eurielle squealed, "Pet, you're a genius!"

Petra pulled off a look of proud modesty as she received similar sentiments from her other sisters. Thaleia, glancing cautiously at Judith's still sleeping form, ventured to whisper, "So…what should we do with the next one?"

A/N You just wait. Now it's getting really good. Don't forget to leave a review telling us what you thought about the latest update, and if you happen to mention which of the princesses you'd like to see more of in a possible sequel, that'd be great, too. Also, check out our profile page for the debut of Dazzle and Stretch: The Twilight Musical. Shameless plug? You bet. Are we ashamed? Not a whit.