Once there was a young princess who was taught that grace, charm and beauty were all she’d ever need. Taking these precepts as read, she grew up with the physical poise of a prima donna, the perfectly accentuated cheek bones of a Renaissance model, and astoundingly, utterly stupid.
This didn’t worry her father as he was very proud of his daughter’s beauty. He enjoyed being able to show her off to his courtiers and she would win them all with pretty smiles and pretty, although short, comments. What her mother thought, we’ll never know, as she was not asked.
And so the young girl grew to the trembling precipice of womanhood; somewhere between the age of seven and sixteen depending on the perversity of social, historical and cultural tastes, always sheltered behind the castle walls. She took her exercise in the manicured and well dusted gardens, hung with laburnum and lilac but no bees – they unnerved her – and deer and rabbits would gently patter between the lawns and never shit anywhere. On days of bad weather, she walked the long gallery hung with enormous portraits of her beautiful ancestors, all smiling down upon her, having reached the pinnacle of princess-hood – perfect stillness so their graceful beauty can be admired free from interruption of human emotion. This way her dress would never be spoiled and those pretty curls that hung at her nape so deliciously always kept their shape.
She never jumped in puddles like you or I, or climbed trees to explore the secret world of birds. She never rolled down hills in a dizzy giggle or ran with other boys and girls to feel what the wind is like on your face and hair. She never tested her strength on bars to see if she could save herself if she fell out of a window or read books for hours to dream of far-off worlds, she would one day ride her horse to when she was big. She never learned how to make ceramic bottles or cakes, or patterned glass, or asked why the sky is blue or how it rains, or what makes marble statues in underground caves or who wrote poems so beautifully they made you weep.
Instead, she learned how to turn her head and look up through her lashes prettily, she cried if a bee came near her and she was terrified of dogs. She never lounged disgracefully in an armchair, but sat neatly upright, thus often got back ache.
And now, trembling at the cusp of womanhood, with all her virtues primed, she was ready to marry. A charming young prince was found from a Kingdom of the Middle Lands. His father was the Heath King, the crown to which young Prince Reuben would ascend when he came of age.
The prince was an accomplished young man. He was a joyful and buoyant soul in the way a body will be after a childhood of jumping in puddles, racing his mother on horseback and learning to cook the perfect Dauphinois potato with his father. He had all the sacrificial pity for the poor of an Oscar Wilde Christ metaphor, and he charmed whole armies with his beautiful singing voice. He was very sought after.
He was excited about marriage. He longed to knit his soul with another being and forge a new age, hand in hand with her. He had certain…flutterings which his mother had explained to him at length when he was young; even though it made him blush, but the princess was certainly beautiful and at least now he felt like he had a fair idea of how to Proceed. But first! He longed to become intimate with her sweet charms, learn the musical notes of her voice and be lost in them as they talked (so he imagined, dreaming indulgently on his silken draped balcony) late into the moonlight. He was overcome with the thought of the romance.
The princess was duly brought, in all pomp, to the court of the Heath King.
All the court were captivated by the princess’ beauty. She certainly knew how to twirl her curls adorably – it made you quite lose track of what she was saying. The prince spent three days sat in her company by the shady lake of his palace on a tasselled golden quilt, lost in her face.
They talked. Well, he talked. He told her all his plans for his kingdom, how to modernise, how to raise the standard of living, how to develop and beautify. She smiled gratifyingly and agreed. The prince lay with his head in her lap while she stroked his long hair and felt very happy. He pushed down the strange uncertainty that he felt that even after three days, he couldn’t say he knew her very well.
On the fourth day, the queen declared a picnic. They would ride over to the Maypole green and sport themselves there. The queen was an excellent horsewoman. Kin were invited, dogs were gathered, but the expression on the princess’ face was stricken with horror.
The family were aghast to learn that she could not ride, she was scared of dogs, she preferred not to be in the sun too long and found it troubling to eat off her lap. The king grimaced and the queen exchanged looks with her sister, the dowager duchess. A conference was held, carriages, substantial furniture and tents were brought. The picnic would go ahead.
Installed gracefully on a hastily constructed dais, the princess arranged her skirts gorgeously around her and smiled. Entertainments were brought. The prince and his father regaled the company with a charming duet. The queen talked vehemently on sustainable forestry policy and made many jokes. The prince’s little sister showed her acrobatic skills and laughed merrily as she stood on her horse’s back in canter. The dowager aunt lowered the tone with a bawdy song. The princess was asked for a song or recitation, but she demurely professed her ignorance. All were gay and the royal family applied themselves to making the young princess comfortable and getting to know her; asking her questions and her opinion on all number of things, to which she mostly lowered her eyes and smiled prettily.
After a while, a breeze sprung up, the princess complained of a draught, was in horror of ants and strenuously felt her gown was inappropriate for the approaching evening. Under such duress, the court retired to the civility of buildings.
Now the dowager aunt was a canny old woman and she could guess the queen’s (her sister’s) thoughts with unfailing success. She held conference with her that evening.
‘The thing is,’ she began, after shutting firm the door, ‘the girl is indeed very pretty, very charming and very graceful, but she’s utterly stupid and unforgivably dull.’
The queen sunk into a chair and sighed. ‘I fear you’re right.’
‘We must summon your son,’ the duchess asserted, ‘talk some sense into him.’
The queen bridled at this most bad temperedly. ‘My son is not stupid,’ she snapped. ‘He’s got a brain, he’ll see this soon enough.’
‘I don’t dispute it,’ assured the duchess. ‘But he is ensnared in the first flame of attraction which we must temper with a dousing of patience. Allow them to be daily in each other’s company. But let’s have plenty of other company here too, and no talk of marriage for a year. It’ll soon run its course.’
The queen nodded. ‘Yes. Let’s get him here and tell him we’ll arrange the marriage for next May to give them time to plan their life thereafter.’
Prince Reuben was summoned. His love was enquired after. His mother and aunt were sweet and patient as he poured out to them his ardent admiration.
‘Time is sweet for young lovers!’ smiled his aunt.
‘You both must enjoy it!’ laughed his mother. ‘We shall ell enjoy our time together, sweetly, each day unrestrained. Give us time to plan the most splendid wedding and arrange your quarters. It’ll all be ready within the year!’
Prince Reuben frowned at this. ‘A year?’
‘What’s the rush?’ his mother cried. ‘your time together is not fettered. Get to know each other. Travel together! Do things! You have your independence that your loves may by day increase. Just give us time to build a palace fit for a princess!’
Reuben felt in his heart they were right and that uncertain feeling he tried to ignore would disperse as they knew each other better. He assented and ran off to find his princess, who was at that point weeping loudly as a storm had begun and the thunder frightened her.
The queen and her sister watched him go, racing to the wailing source away in the long galley.
‘I don’t know if I can stick her a whole year,’ the queen grimaced.
The duchess shook her head and heaved a deep sigh. ‘Neither can I.’
****
After serious reflection, the queen and duchess thought it ungenerous to write the girl off altogether, and instead set about attempting to Improve her Character. Thus, the royal court did what it could to educate, embolden and enliven the beautiful, graceful and charming princess till they were quite blue in the collective face with it. In the end, some bad parenting just can’t be undone.
One desperate night, Prince Reuben threw himself at his mother’s feet in her chamber and wept. She rested her hands on his dark head as he poured out his woe.
‘I had just hoped we’d have something in common!’ he wailed. ‘And she just won’t try new things! I suggested we both try archery, she thoroughly baulked and fretted about the soft skin on her hands. I suggested exploring the forest and camping out – too dirty, I suggested mountains – too high; her complexion does badly when out of breath, I suggested sailing – too wet. I asked what she would like to do, and she said she didn’t know! If she only had…some opinions!’
‘Well,’ chastised his mother, ‘she’s not the outdoors type. What about indoor things?’
‘I suggested baking, she said boring, I said music – too hard; reading – the concentration gives her wrinkles. It’s a disaster mother! How can I honourably extricate myself?’
His mother smiled to herself. ‘There is a way.’
****
The next evening the queen and duchess summoned the princess. They sat her comfortably, closed the window against the draught and gave her sweet wine. When she was comfortable, the queen tentatively began.
‘My dear, we have a custom here. It is something we must do before you marry my son.’
The princess looked afraid and her lip began to quiver.
‘No no!’ the queen hastily consoled, clutching at the young girl’s hand, while her sister turned away, rolling her eyes. ‘It is nothing terrible – don’t be afraid! It is merely a custom that twelve weeks before the wedding, the princess must sleep in a bed of twenty mattresses. It is proof to all the land that you are a real princess.’
Here the princess looked fit to wobble again.
‘It’s really nothing more than a custom! There’s no harm in it!’ the queen urged while the dowager winced and studied the tapestries. The princess at last desisted snivelling and agreed to sleep in the High Bed that very night.
****
The queen wedged the old dry pea under the bottom mattress hefted up by the duchess with many a grunt of exertion.
‘I feel like a ruthless bitch,’ she sighed.
‘They’ll make each other miserable for years,’ the duchess retorted. ‘That’s worse.’
****
The following morning the princess stormed into breakfast, limping gracefully, in floods of tears. She declared she had been tricked and deceived by this heartless kingdom and was returning home at once. She had slept dreadfully and eventually got up and dismantled the bed and found the pea that had kept her awake all night. She summoned a carriage and left that morning.
The prince sighed. ‘Oversensitive,’ he murmured.
****
In the end, the prince found a princess who spoke three languages, and enjoyed high speed skiing that frankly horrified him, but he was willing to give it a go. They lived happily ever after.
And the beautiful graceful, charming princess? I feel I have been unkind to her. After all, it wasn’t all her fault. Well, she married; indeed, a strong handsome, brave prince who was often out hunting and would happily return home to lay his head in his lover’s silent, smiling lap and tell her all about it. They were very well suited. They even had a daughter, who they hoped one day, would be beautiful, graceful and charming. And as a little chubby three years old child, she was charming and would make her mother laugh at her childish games. They would walk together in the palace gardens, and even once, before her mother could stop her, the little princess broke free from her mother’s hand in glee and ran straight through a puddle, splashing mud all over her silk gown. The young queen shrieked in dismay.
Then she threw back her head, and laughed.
