The Nine Princesses Novel

Chapter 7: Bad Spots

They were gone. The last of the peasants had shuffled out and Arialain closed the beast one more time. The sky above the Lumen trees was deep-water blue. Her shoulders ached and she'd noticed the sleeves of her gowns were becoming tight. Her muscles had grown from this.

It wasn't fair. The other princesses had duties they liked, even if they didn't enjoy doing it all the time. Their work coincided with their talents, for the most part. But Arialain simply pulled the door open and pushed it shut. No special skill was needed for that.

She headed down the hall to the main staircase, one of many that would carry her to her tiny tower room. She'd get out her wooden sword and attack the bedpost for a while. At least the post was gracious enough to lose every fight. She approached the stone staircase - wide as the hall itself - and quickened her pace, hoping not to be seen.

"Ari?"

Her breath came out in an angry gust. She knew that was coming. "Yes?"

Heidel emerged from the east corridor, wearing an apron. "I could use some help."

Of course. Arialain followed Heidel up the east corridor until they reached the swinging door leading into the kitchen. That's who Heidel was: Kitchen Princess. She enjoyed cooking. It made sense.

"There. Peel those chestnuts for me," Heidel said as they entered.

Now Ari knew why Heidel had sought her. Peeling chestnuts was difficult, unpleasant work. Heidel didn't like doing it, so she gave the task to Ari. That was how it worked with all the sisters.

"I've already roasted them. The shells should come off easily," Heidel said.

No, they never did. And the pile of chestnuts on the worktable looked to number about two hundred. Ari sighed and went to grab an apron off the wall. The kitchen was hot, as usual, though the fire in the cavernous hearth had burned low. The room smelled of good things: woodsmoke and grease fat; dried herbs and fruity wines. But it was always too hot.

"What are we having?" Arialain asked.

"Pies." Heidel frequently made pies, packing in whatever meats, nuts, and vegetables she had on hand. They were tasty, Ari thought. But the meals made by Joc, their former cook, had been better. Granted, Joc had had decades of experience, and Heidel was seventeen. She did amazingly well, considering. But sometimes, Arialain missed Joc's cooking.

Heidel watched Ari knot the apron around her waist. "Looks cute on you." Heidel smirked.

Arialain smiled. "Thank you!" The apron did look brightly white against her red dress. And it covered so much of her small body, she looked like a child wearing her mother's apron.

"Not sure it's queenish enough, though," Heidel said as Arialain climbed onto a stool at the worktable. Heidel stood opposite, her back to the fire, making ready to roll out a ball of dough.

Queenish. They had coined that word years ago, a corruption of a term often used by their mother, Runa. She had always told her girls to be like 'little queens' in all things. Which by her definition meant decorum and grace. Heidel was, by far, the least queenish among them. She had a loud voice, a freckled face, and a full figure. The apron she wore bulged over her bosom, and her hair dangled in a thick, untidy braid. She slapped the ball of dough down on the table and began to flatten it with her plump white hands.

"Can I practice with you after supper?" Ari took the paring knife Heidel offered and picked up one of the chestnuts, hot from the oven. She winced and set it down to cool.

"What... swordplay? Can't tonight, Ari, too many events coming."

"Like what?" Arialain asked, disappointed. Heidel wasn't great with the sword, but she was certainly more lively than the bedpost.