Chapter 3

I blushed scarlet. "Sorry, miss!" I called down. "I've been bothered a good bit by heroes and such lately, and I thought—"

"Yes, I know what you thought. Know why? Because I'm the one who has to deliver Aurora her triple-espresso coffee. I'm the one who gets the hair removal ointment to Belle and her husband. I'm the one that does all the Princess Deliveries, and trust me, being threatened with a crossbow is the least of it. One time I had to hold my breath for five minutes while escaping sharks, just to get Princess Ariel her Junk-that-falls-to-the-ocean-floor Monthly!"

I grinned. Finally, a girl with some sense in her skull! "I'm still rather sorry about it. Why don't you come on up? There's a door 'round back, but it's covered with ivy in case one hero is slightly less daft than the rest and decides to actually check for an entrance."

She smirked. "You really aren't the typical princess, are you?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not even a princess! Just the cousin of one, with rather idiotic parents. Anyways, I've got tea going. Would you come up for a cup? Besides Ezzie, I don't usually get good company."

She frowned. "Well, I guess I've got some free time till my next delivery. Tea sounds great! By the way, I'm Penelope. Call me Penny and you die. What's your name?" She went around back, and I had to run to the other window to keep talking to her.

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"My name is Penelope Ellanora Amethyst Hephzibah Renatin. It doesn't get much worse than that."

"Fair enough. Well, I suppose you've heard of Rapunzel…"

She interrupted me with a groan. "Have I! The girl's all right, but her aunt and uncle are always, always, always asking for something else. 'Oh, can't you get me a solid gold goblet?' 'Really, could you be a bit more punctual?' Ugh!" She finished climbing the stairs and catapulted herself onto the rug. "Whew! That's a full workout! So, what does this have to do with your name?"

I braced myself. "I'm Rapunzel's cousin. Sorry about my parents. Besides the infatuation with dinnerware of precious metal, they also named their only daughter, 'Cabbage.' That would be me."

It is a very interesting thing to watch someone be completely embarrassed. Penelope was no exception. Her face turned a bright red, and then turned a color akin to most corpses after the rigor mortis has set in.

"I—I, uh—"

"It's fine. They're nothing to me, anyways. They left me with the local witch when I was seven, so eh, whatever."

"Even so, I'm sorry.

"It's fine. So, what brings you here?"

"Oh, that's right! It's a letter from this correspondent of yours." I looked at her and saw that she was smirking, just a little. "Social development, huh?"

"My stupid foster mother," I grumbled. "Just because I live in a tower doesn't mean I lack social skills!"

"Uh, crossbow?"

"For the heroes!"

"Right. Because I'm so totally a hero, here to rescue a blond-haired, blue-eyed, perfect-figured damsel in distress."

"Well, I thought you were."

"Do I really look that much like a boy? Even from a distance?"

"Like you said, from a distance. Plus, I'm guessing it's easier to run around when you're in a boy's uniform and have a boy's haircut. People don't question you as much, huh?"

"Got that right. Sometimes I hate being a girl." We sipped our tea in thoughtful silence.

"So, I got a letter?"

She smacked herself in the head. "Oh yeah! I can't believe I forgot. Here you go. Now I should probably be on my way—Cinderella needs expensive, imported cheese for her mouse friends, apparently. Go figure. Thanks for the tea!" And before I knew it, she'd pulled out a rope, tied it to a hook by the window, and was sliding down in the way of an expert.

I turned my attention to the letter. It seemed to be a typical letter, the only strange thing being that it was sealed with a rather…royal-looking seal, with a dragon being strangled by a snake. Lovely.

I ripped it open and read the first few lines:

Dear Miss,

I take it that you are to be my correspondent, then? It's a pleasure to write to one of the ordinary folk. I am Prince Deme Zacharius Ivan…

I dropped the letter as fast as I could. A royal! Had Ezzie completely lost her senses? Carefully, I picked up the letter and read the rest of it.

Although you probably find the term 'common folk,' fairly offensive. Sorry—I shouldn't have said that. Even this letter took a few rough drafts, as you can see.

Where to start? I am Prince Zacharius Ivan IX, but I prefer Zachary or simply Zach. I'm not exactly what you would call well-built, being a bit lanky. I have brown hair that's always getting in my eyes and brown eyes to match. I suppose I don't exactly look the part of a prince. I never have.

I'm interested in reading and writing, and I try to sneak to the library as often as possible so that I can get away from my 'princely duties,' which, frankly, annoy me. They seem silly and pointless. Why does it matter where the Ambassador of Tilane sits, or what kind of spoon the Empress of Ghilandi uses? I can't make head nor tail of it.

Well, I seem to have run out of things to say. I'll try to write a longer letter next time.

Best regards,

Prince Zacharius Ivan IX of Yllerie, Duke of Rowan's Dale, Baron of… That list went on and on.

Hmm. He seemed all right, for a royal. Less snobby than I'd expected. But still, a royal. What had Ezzie been thinking?

The clock chimed in the kitchen. I jumped up. I couldn't bother about Prince Zacharius Ivan Whatever anymore—there were dishes that had to be done.

I headed to the kitchen, trying firmly to get my mind off of that letter.