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A fairy tale I wrote for school. Hope you enjoy, I did!
An Unlikely Quest
Once upon a time, in a land fondly known as England, lived a prince named Ellis. Ellis was a handsome prince, all the women in the entire land fawned and swooned over him. At the ripe age of nineteen, his parents, the King and Queen of the land fondly known as England, were pressuring him to marry.
“But there’s no one I love!” he would protest.
The king always responded to this with a good, hearty yell about the needs of the kingdom. The queen always gently told him that it wasn’t about love, it was about smart matches. Everyone of nobility knew that, she’d say.
Prince Ellis was not content with the explanations, he was completely convinced that there was someone out there made just for him. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, he could never find the right girl.
He had looked everywhere. He went to all the balls, all the banquets, all social events possible. He toured his kingdom, toured other kingdoms, and even tried a matchmaker once. That was something he’d never be doing again.
At the moment, Ellis was resting in a high backed chair, flipping slowly through a leather-bound book. His green eyes glided lazily over the print, taking in only bits and pieces of the story.
“Ellis!” came the Queen’s voice as he turned a yellowed page.
“I’m in the library!” he called, closing the book and brushing back his curly, brown locks.
The queen entered quietly and gracefully, hands clasped lightly in front of her billowing brown gown. Ellis stood respectfully and inclined his head.
“Ellis, it is time.”
“Time? For what, mother?” He cocked a thick eyebrow curiously, wondering if there was a ritual suicide someone had conveniently forgotten to mention.
“We must go meet the daughters at Cambridge. The carriage awaits.”
“But-Cambridge? I’ve been there, mother. Twice!” He sat back down, thinking this must be a joke, and picked up his book again.
“Ellis, stand! The daughters of Cambridge number three but you have only met two!”
Ellis stood reluctantly. “Mother, I’ve met every eligible girl in every eligible kingdom. I hardly think I will like this one daughter of Cambridge when I didn’t especially like the others. Besides, if I have yet to meet her, wouldn’t that mean she’s young?”
“She’s sixteen. She’s been in Spain for three years, studying politics with the Queen.”
And so, with that final explanation, the Prince was ushered quickly and neatly into a carriage, given a plate of biscuits, and sent off to Cambridge.
Nibbling thoughtfully on a biscuit, he tried to remember if he’d met all the girls in Spain. Surely, he’d met the queen before, he was the prince of England. Maybe he’d seen this daughter before. Yes, he must have seen her before. And every woman he’d met, he hadn’t liked.
It was with a depressed aura and biscuit nibble that his carriage trundled into the gates at fief Cambridge and halted in front of the large doors.
“We have arrived, milord,” a footman announced, bowing deeply in the opened doorway. Prince Ellis nodded and arose, stepping gracefully out of the carriage and making his way up the steps to the fief. Before a footman could knock and announce his presence, a butler opened the giant doors and bid them entrance.
He led them to a receiving room down a long corridor and held the door open. The footman entered first, straightening up as much as possible as the room’s occupants stood, and declared, “His highness, Prince Ellis!”
“Thank you,” Ellis murmured as he strode in and looked around. Once he took his seat at a small tea table with the three daughters, everyone in the room sat down.
“Highness, tea is being brought. Do you desire anything else?” Lady Cambridge asked.
“No, thank you, Lady.”
“Then I shall linger no longer.” She swept out of the room, giving her daughters a stern look.
“Lady Elizabeth. Lady Victoria.” He nodded at each of the oldest girls in turn, then turned to the only new face. It was the first time he had really looked at it. It was a dainty face, slightly daintier than the faces of the other girls. Instead of curled brown hair, piled royally on her head, she was unfortunate to have straight hair of the dull brown variety. Eyes that seemed too intelligent for a woman and too blue for a human bore respectfully into his shoulder, not moving, not bearing any emotion. It was quite clear that he had never met this treasure before.
It was only when the older girls chorused “Your highness,” that the prince came out of his reverie.
“My apologies for I am unaware of the name of this lovely young lady.” He gave her a gracious smile, wanting her to stop giving his shoulder that blank stare.
“Not at all, your highness. My name is Catherine, but I won’t be insulted if you can’t remember it.” She transferred that cool gaze to his face, but kept her head lowered enough to indicate subservience.
He was about to reply when Elizabeth, the eldest, opened her mouth to speak.
“Your highness, if it’s not too bold to inquire, I hear that you’ve still not found a suitable wife?”
“That is true.”
“In Spain, the prince would have forced the prettiest lady in the kingdom to marry him,” Catherine commented.
“I don’t believe the prince cares much about Spain, Catherine,” Victoria chided.
“I care very much for Spain,” Ellis said, somehow not able to take his eyes off the youngest daughter.
“The prince isn’t very nice.” Catherine looked him, eyes suddenly hard, boring into his own emerald orbs.
“Is that so?”
“Look, the tea is here!” Elizabeth cried, interrupting her sister before she said anything else embarrassing.
Ellis looked at the tea, suddenly not wanting any or to sit in this stifling room. He looked at Catherine.
“Would you like to take a walk, Lady Catherine?”
Her sisters gaped at her since it would have been disrespectful to gape at the prince. Catherine, however, raised her eyebrows at Ellis.
“That would be pleasant, your highness.” They stood up, Ellis offered her his hand, and the moment she rested hers upon it, they set off for the gardens.
The garden path was a cobblestone wonder, smooth and inlaid with various precious stones. There were flowers of every color dotting the grasses and bushes. There was even a small fruit tree.
“I believe you were thirteen when you went to Spain, is that correct, Lady?” he inquired, trying to make small talk.
“Yes. That is correct, highness.”
“Are you fluent in Spanish?”
“Quite.”
There seemed to be nothing else to talk about, so they walked on through the garden path. That is, until a stray twig blocked their way and Prince Ellis tripped over it, falling onto his knees.
“Oh my, I’m so sorry, your highness!” Catherine said, sounding alarmed. Ellis was about to make a haughty retort that it wasn’t her fault when he looked at her and saw that she was trying not to laugh. As soon as his scowl reached her face, she couldn’t help it any more. After that, she was giggling so hard that she had to clutch her stomach.
The prince couldn’t help but smile.
“Yes, yes, I’m sure it was very funny,” he muttered, standing up and brushing himself off.
“N-Not at all,” she stammered, still giggling.
“Oh really?” he asked sarcastically, quirking an eyebrow. This, for some reason or another, set her off again, and he had to wait a full three minutes before she was composed enough to continue walking.
On their second circuit around the garden, Catherine plucked two fruits off the tree, offering one to Ellis and politely waiting until he accepted and bit into it before starting on her own
After the fall, neither of them were quiet. Ellis told her about touring, about balls, about banquets. He filled her in about things she’d missed in her three years in Spain. And she talked of Spain, of the Madeira, of the Queen. Ellis noticed that, though she spoke of the two princesses of Spain, she never once spoke of the Prince.
“Lady Catherine, if you don’t mind my asking, how did you come about going to Spain?” Ellis asked.
Catherine hesitated, taking a bite of fruit to cover up, but finally replied. “My mother said I was a difficult child. By the time I was twelve, it was obvious that my sisters were much better suited for nobility than I.
“So my father contacted his brother, who happened to be one of the queen’s advisors, and asked if I may be sent there and taught the laws of Spanish politics in the hopes that I might become either better inclined to learn English politics or to become a Spanish diplomat. Of course, in Spain, I’d never be allowed to hold any type of political power.”
She sighed at the completion of her narrative and bit into her fruit again, tossing the core into a flower bed. Ellis did the same, then spoke.
“What type of political power would you like to hold?”
Catherine suddenly stood up straighter and strengthened her subservient aura.
“I shouldn’t bother you with such trifles, highness.”
“I’d like to know, Lady.”
She shook her head but he looked at her expectantly and so she sighed.
“I want to be a Queen.” When his eyebrows disappeared into his hair, she started protesting furiously. “No, it’s not like that! I’ve been with the Queen three years, I think I’d make a good Queen! I know what a country needs, the Queen said I was the best she’d seen since her own daughters—”
He interrupted her with a peck on the mouth, then another kiss, effectively stopping her rant.
“Lady Catherine, will you marry me?”
“I beg yo—excuse m—what?”
“I said, ‘will you marry me?’ You’ll get to be Queen.”
Catherine bristled. “No! I won’t marry you just to be Queen! If I was going to marry someone just to become Queen, I would have married the prince of Spain when he asked me before I left!” She turned on her heel and stalked off, looking livid. Ellis stared after her, mouth opening and closing like a dumbstruck goldfish.
When she was nearly out of earshot, the fact that she declined and was walking away finally sunk into the part of his brain that operates his mouth.
“Catherine, wait!” he called, running through flowerbeds.
“That’s Lady Catherine!” she shouted before speeding up.
“I-I’m sorry!” he tried, tripping over a bush and getting tangled in the leaves. She disappeared into a small cottage on the grounds and Ellis stopped running.
“Damn my stupid mouth,” he hissed, climbing back through the shrubbery and finally back to his carriage and back home.
“Walking with his highness,” she said, bowing politely.
“How did it go?”
“Not well,” she whispered, turning to walk out. “Not well at all.”
That was an easy question to answer.
“Ellis? Ellis, are you alright?” The queen swept down the stairs to stop before her pacing son.
“No, mother, I’m not alright. I met her. I love her. I proposed to her. She said no.”
His mother the queen stared at him in shock. “Someone...someone said no?”
He gave her a miserable nod and pushed past her to start pacing again. She caught up with him as quickly as etiquette allowed.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that, when I asked her if she would marry me, she gave a negative response. Please don’t make me say it again.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” the queen replied, slightly distracted. She tapped her chin with a slender finger, thinking deeply, brows knit together. Ellis looked at her.
“What?”
“Well....you realize that this means we’ll have to choose for you, soon. Don’t you?”
“But, mother–!”
“And if we choose, we want you to be happy.”
Ellis stopped in mid-protest, knowing where she was going with that thought. “No. I can’t ask her to marry me against her will. I won’t do it.” And with that, he swept out of the hall and up to his private chambers.
“What news? Did the prince propose to someone?” Catherine asked, trying to sound indifferent.
“No! Better!”
“Better?”
“Yes! He wrote a letter, father said to a woman! I don’t know who it’s for and you’re the only one who can read it!” Victoria handed her the scroll and she untied it with wavering hands, scolding her heart into numbness.
“Shall I read out loud, then?”
“Yes, yes!” her sisters chorused. Catherine smiled and began.
“Dear my lady,
When we walked together, it was magical. I had never felt more at peace with myself or my position than at that moment. Do you know how many suitable brides I have met?
Neither do I.
But it seemed an impressive question and it’s a high number.
My lady, who shall remain nameless, you are the only one I have ever taken a walk with. If you would walk with me one more time, I could show you how much I want you to marry me.
This is a short apology, but consider my words, Lady.
Sincerely,
Prince Ellis”
Catherine stared at the scroll as she finished up, both her sisters staring at her. The impact of it hit all three of them at once.
“It’s for you!” Elizabeth and Victoria shrieked at the same time.
“It’s for me...” Catherine echoed.
“Well?! What are you waiting for? Go!” Victoria said as though her younger sister were dense.
“What? Go where?”
“To the palace!” Elizabeth replied.
“I can’t go uninvited to the palace!”
“Catherine, he practically begged you to come! Now go!” Victoria reasoned, waving the letter in her face.
The youngest was about to protest, when suddenly, her heart disobeyed and her eyes filled with tears.
“Ok, I’ll go!” she cried happily, sobbing into her sisters’ arms.
The first mile or so wasn’t too difficult. She had brought shoes instead of wearing them, so her feet were bruised and cut, but not sore and she could move much faster.
Eventually, she entered the forest. The forest, she knew, wasn’t a large forest, however, it was dark and dangerous and would be the most difficult part of her short journey.
The worst thing she could think of happening would be meeting a group of bandits. She wasn’t sure her swordsmanship was good enough to hold her own against a group of hungry, greedy men. In any case, she had with her a bag of gold to try and bribe them with.
She walked on, stepping on twigs, cutting her feet and ankles more, and eventually having to hitch her skirts up so she wouldn’t trip on them. It occurred to her that she had, in no way, dressed for the occasion. Somehow, they left out this scenario in the always-look-like-a-lady lesson.
She walked and she walked, knowing that with each step she took, she got closer to her prince who, hopefully, was waiting for her.
Noon came and went, and still she walked, knowing that, as the twigs became more broken from being stepped on by travelers, she was coming closer to the end.
Through the thick foliage, she could tell the sun was almost setting. She was tired, hungry, thirsty, and her feet were bloody and blistered. The sword on her back, proving useless so far, was only helping to hinder her.
And then it happened.
Her sharp ears picked up a low, guttural growl and she froze in place. All too quickly, the sound of crunchingand shattering wood was heard and then the pounding footsteps and unmistakable breathing of a massive bear.
She screamed, not sure if it was out loud or not, but, judging by the ferocious roar of the angered bear, it had been.
“I’m diplomatic, let’s try and work this out calmly and efficiently!” she cried quickly, losing all common sense. The bear roared again and she vaguely wondered why she had thought this would be easy.
“Well. I guess I did bring this for a reason.” She unstrapped the sword from her back and set her pack down on a rock. The bear gave a tremendous howl and leapt at her, swiping at her shoulder with one gargantuan paw. The claws ripped the seams of the shoulder on her dress, slicing a deep gash in her arm.
She yowled in pain and swung the swordup, trying to at least scare the bear off. It almost seemed to laugh at her efforts as it buffed her lightly on the head and knocked the sword out of her hand.
She screamed, tears of fright streaming down her dirty face, unbeknownst to her. The bear came after her again and so she did the only thing she had left to do– run.
She ran through the thicket of trees the bear had come from, tripping over branches, snagging her dress on broken limbs, expecting the bear to be behind her at any moment. Soon, she became aware that the only sound was the pounding of her own feet and heart, nothing larger or different. She started to double back, knowing the path by the spatters of blood and ripped cloth along the way. When she reached the confrontation site, she found the bear there, sitting down and devouring her bag. She almost laughed at her stupidity. Of course that’s what it wanted. It provided a much better meal than she did.
As it scarfed down the last morsel of food, it turned it’s doleful brown gaze toward her and stared. She took a tentative step toward it and it lowered it’s shaggy head.
“Hello there, sir,” she said politely, curtsying. It didn’t answer in words, obviously, but it raised its head slightly and looked at her again.
“Since you’ve eaten my food, would you mind giving me a lift?” she tried, thinking she must be delirious from blood loss. The bear gave a low cry and stood up, walking over to her and kneeling. She gaped. Clearly, she was hallucinating.
She started to walk away, but the bear roared, causing her to turn around. The animal looked expectantly at her and lowered its back closer to the ground.
“Are you sure?” she asked it, walking over and petting its matted brow. It gave another low cry and she all but collapsed on its back in gratitude. It turned toward the way she had run, but she pulled on its fur until it was facing the right way.
From that point on, she had to duck and hold on. The bear barreled through the forest, knocking over trees, plants, small animals, and other various items until he reached the edge. There, he bent sideways and she rolled off, landing sprawled on the ground.
“Thank you, kind sir,” she said, inclining her head. The bear seemed to laugh as it picked her up with one lazy claw and stood her straight up. She smiled at it, brushing herself off and looking up.
There was the palace.
She looked at the bear, who seemed to know her destination (and who appeared to have eaten her letter), and it grunted at her.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
It grunted again, jerking it’s head toward the castle in the not-so-far off distance.
“Yes, I’m going there.”
The bear growled and picked her up again.
“Wait, what are you doing, I have to get there!”
It growled again and trundled off toward the palace.
“Oh. Thank you, again!”
She fell asleep on the short ride to the palace and woke up with a start when she hit the ground again.
“Thank you, friend!” she said.
The bear lifted her up again, giving her a slight push toward the door. Taking the hint, she bowed to her chariot and made her way across the drawbridge to the portcullis.
“Who goes there?” the guard on duty asked, eyeing her tattered dress with distaste.
“Lady Catherine of Cambridge,” she informed him, gazing coolly at him.
“L-Lady Catherine!” He scramble up and raised the portcullis, ushering her inside. As she stepped into the palace, she could tell her feet and shoulders were soaking the pristine floor with blood. As light flooded her blackened face, into her muddy eyes, she started to feel faint.
And, of course, as soon as Ellis was summoned and arrived, she collapsed, managing to fall into his arms.
“Lady Catherine! What happened?” Ellis asked in a rather higher voice than was custom.
“Yes, prince! The answer is yes!”
It didn’t match the question he had asked, but he knew what it was in reference to. As the biggest grin he’d ever grinned lit his face, he kissed her, knowing that everything would turn out fantastically.
Soooooooooooo? Did everyone enjoy it?
