Once upon a time, in a far away kingdom, there lived a widowed King. He had but one child, a daughter, Ellen.
When Ellen was ten, a neighboring king came with his twelve year old son, Edward. The two young persons, while not of marriageable age, were promised to one another by their respective fathers, seeing as they were of complimentary personalities and tempers. Both fathers, as the two families separated, impressed upon their children the future blessing to both kingdoms through the prospective union and encouraged them, on and off, throughout the years to think on one another kindly.
As it came to pass, in the course of time, when Ellen was a bright, cheerful girl of fifteen, that her father wed again. His bride had two beautiful blonde daughters of comparable age to Ellen; one sixteen and the other fourteen. The girl's names were Bettina and Corina. For a princess, Ellen was a common enough featured girl. However, her hair was a rich brown and was wavy and full of life. Her eyes were brown and often twinkled with good-humor. Her sweet temper gave her plain features a rare beauty...a beauty that far surpassed the stunning features and form of her step-sisters.
Then, just months after the wedding, Ellen's father met a mysterious fate while out riding. His royal charger returned home, riderless and panic stricken. His body was never found, but he was presumed dead.
Meanwhile, in those few months, Ellen had been treated with indifference by her step-mother and teased mercilessly by her step-sisters. Her brown hair was taunted as not befitting a future queen. Upon the disappearance of her father, poor Ellen received extra mistreatment. Her step-mother's indifference quickly evaporated and the girl herself “disappeared”. The word was passed throughout the kingdom that Princess Ellen had suffered a severe shock. Another girl was substituted in her place and when it was noted “how different she looks”, the Queen always was quick to point out, in a prettily persuasive way that the “poor child has been terribly affected by her father's...ahem, disappearance”.
Stripped of her royal clothing and dressed in servant's garb, Ellen soon became familiar with the ways of being private maid to her step-mother and sisters. Sweet and good-tempered, she was nevertheless grieved at the treatment she received. Soon, however, she accepted it and quietly went about doing her duties as sedately as any born maid. Once she tried to explain to someone that she was herself Princess Ellen, but the laughter she received in response to her claims crushed her hope of being believed. The unjust treatment did not serve to sour her temper, instead, she turned more to the Hope of her salvation and underwent unkind words and unfeeling slaps with a gentleness that further infuriated her already bitter step-mother.
Thus the years passed. With each year that slipped by, Bettina and Cornia became more and more ravishing to look upon. Their features were always accented in a way to make them look the most becoming by the work roughened hands of Ellen. Ellen took a secret joy in making them look as beautiful as possible; she loved beautiful things and when she did an exceptionally good job, she occasionally received a kind smile from Cornia. Corina was a bit of a dim-wit, according to her sister, and really had no real dislike for Ellen; her treatment of her was more a thoughtlessness than real maliciousness.
With each year that passed, Ellen grew more and more sweet-tempered and the kindness of her soul gave her a beauty about her large brown eyes that both her gorgeous sisters lacked.
One secret grief only did she harbor. Only once did she break her silence upon the subject--and at that it was to a mouse that learned to trust her by her kind feeding it bread crumbs.
“Ah, little mouse,” Ellen sighed, at about the time of her nineteenth birthday, “in a little over a year, Edward should be coming to collect his bride. It was agreed, many years hence that once I reached twenty, he was to come and wed me.”
She pushed her hair out of her face with a hand red from the hot water she had prepared for her sister's baths.
“But I, as myself, do not exist anymore.” She chuckled suddenly, a rather unhappy sounding chuckle, “What I mean, little mouse, is that Princess Ellen, as presented to the world, is not me...and I, well, I am me; but one would hardly guess I was raised a princess.”
She fell silent and stared out the window at the growing dusk, “I wonder,” she murmured, “if he will have any idea that Princess Ellen is not myself.”
It was in this next year that Ellen's heart grew heavier and her normal singing was dampened a bit. She found herself longing to see Edward...and surprised at the love she had for him, unknown as he was. Her father had always told her to try and love the man she was to marry, even as a girl, and she found it difficult to realise how much she cared for him.
Then, on the other hand, she was frightened of seeing him, as she knew must happen shortly. Her fear was in part because she felt sure that he would not know her and marry another.
As the day neared when Edward was to arrive at the castle, the whole place had been turned nearly upside down with excitement. Let the reader be assured that the Queen had no intention of letting Edward marry either of the “Princess” Ellens...the real one or the false one. She had her heart set on seeing him wed to Bettina, though, of course, Cornia would do just as well if she suited him better.
It was thusly that she laid her plans and expounded them to the three girls. Ellen overheard, but said nothing. Inwardly she cried out with grief at the deception to be played upon her betrothed, but outwardly, she stayed calm, even when Bettina taunted her: “I shall wed him! See if I do not, Ellen...you shall see him happily wed to me!”
Ellen wept into her pillow that night; and in part in grief for the crashing of the life of her stand-in. Janet, for that was her name, was to have an “accident”. Janet, after five years of pampering, had not found the idea overly pleasing, but she understood well that she was by-no means to actually marry the visiting prince. Instead, she was to join her predecessor in plain sight oblivion. It would be quite easy to do. Strip her, like Ellen, of fancy dresses and well-set hair and she would look as much like a common servant as the true princess. It would a be rude shock to the girl to have to re-learn her place as a servant.
The day of Edward's arrival came. Ellen stood amongst the curious crowd as he rode in, dressed in a rich blue and orange riding suit. His reddish hair was blown into a bit of a fuzz about his head—he had obviously been hatless for a portion of the ride. Freckles danced across his good-natured face and he had an amusing fashion of frequently twitching his nose as if he were fighting a sneeze. Blue eyes, tinged with brown flecks, greeted the gawkers with a brand of laughter that was unique to a easy-going spirit.
His eyes met Ellen's for a moment. Abuptly, he swung back to look at her, but she had quickly stepped out of view, for she had felt a flush and smile rising to her face. It would not do to draw extra attention to herself...especially not in public!
Soon Prince Edward was ushered into the presence of the Queen and the three girls.
He bowed low, “Greetings, oh most noble Queen!”
The Queen felt slightly nettled at this greeting, for he seemed, she thought, nearly too light-hearted. Almost as if he were mocking her, she mused.
Ignoring her irritation, she rose to her feet and welcomed him grandly. Then turning she indicated the three girls, “Oh most noble Prince, here is a riddle for you. Which of these lovely creatures is your bride?”
The girl's obligingly giggled as Edward gave a brief bow. Once thoroughly upright, the Prince scrutinized them closely.
Bettina batted her eyes at him, head slightly lowered. “Ellen” lifted her chin and smiled at him rather archly. Cornia looked a little perplexed and reached up and pulled absently at a curl.
Edward puckered up his forehead slightly, “If I recall correctly, my young lady had brown hair...not blonde (Bettina's face froze slightly and Corina's eye's suddenly twinkled). But...but...” Here he looked closely at Janet, “This face seem different.”
The Queen suddenly pushed Janet toward him, “She was so deeply affected by her father's disappearance...”
Edward nodded, “I see,” but made no motion as to step towards her.
Just at that moment, Ellen herself came careening into the room. She grabbed at one of the decorative pillars to keep herself from either sliding to an unbalanced stop and possibly falling flat on the floor, or from bowling the prince over. The Queen glared in her direction. Ellen forced herself not to look at Edward, though she unconsciously drew herself up into a more dignified stance.
“Well? What is the meaning of this intrusion?”
Ellen gasped, “I beg your pardon, your Majesty, but Pixy has nearly drowned!”
Pixy was the Queen's pet dog; and nothing was more important to the queen than that dog, excepting her daughters. Four feminine wails went up and four feminine figures went rushing out to check on the poor little pup. Ellen turned to follow, when Edward's voice halted her.
“Pixy, eh?”
Ellen turned to look at him and saw that he was laughing. Her own face relaxed into a guarded smile and she dropped him a little curtsy, as dainty as anyone could have done.
“He is such a tiny little dog.”
“Ah, I see...a dog!”
Edward's eyes were still laughing; Ellen's smile got a little wider, for the image of the four women scurrying out was indeed amusing. She dropped another crusty, as if to excuse herself, and started to leave the room.
Once again, Edward's voice halted her.
“Stay a minute...if you have one?”
Ellen stopped and turned about, cautiously, “A short one, Sir...”
He took a couple of steps toward her, “I shan't detain you long. I was just wondering...is it possible for one to become so changed in ten years time to be completely unrecognizable? From a girl of ten to a women of twenty...wouldn't there be some resemblance by which I might content myself that it is she?”
He seemed almost to be speaking to himself, but then he turned back and looked at her, “Well?”
Ellen paused, then said hesitantly, “I suppose it is possible. Why?”
The question slipped out before she realized it. Edward did not seem to notice, nor the fact that the maid was addressing him as an equal.
He shifted, “I do not know why I'm telling you this...but I do not think that the brunette is Ellen. It seems so odd too coming on the heels of the old man's speech to me.”
Ellen must have looked her curiosity, for he continued, “I met an odd old man just outside the town. He could have been crazy, but I do not know. He seemed vaguely familiar..." He paused. "Well, nevermind...He told me, 'Marry not in haste. Let the love your father fostered inform your heart.' Then he was gone. But how did he know that my father has taught me from my youth to love the princess? No...no, I cannot think that it is she. She is all wrong somehow.”
Hearing footsteps, Ellen suddenly bobbed and rushed away, her heart a mixture of grief and singing joy.
So he had not fallen for her step-mother's trap!
Yet. She reminded herself...yet.
Without saying as much, Prince Edward made it clear that he wanted more time to consider his marriage prospects. To the Queen, he seemed to be playing directly into her hands. Within the week, “Princess Ellen” had had a disastrous horse-back riding accident. The real Ellen wondered if Edward found it unusual that he was not allowed to see the “body”. Janet found herself relegated to the kitchens; introduced as “a new scullery maid”, she had to re-learn many of the things she had had bred out of her over the last five years.
Edward had free-rein of the castle. Who was going to tell the strapping young red-headed prince that he was not allowed to roam as he pleased? He spent much time visiting the old rooms were he and his father had visited with Princess Ellen and her father years ago.
“From the way he stands,” Bettina complained to her sister, “you would think he expects the walls to tell him the truth!”
Corina frowned thoughtfully, “You think he knows that she wasn't really Ellen?”
Bettina snapped, “Oh hush, you little dimwit! You musn't even speak of such things aloud.”
Cornia shrugged pretty rounded shoulders, “I shouldn't want to marry him anyhow...I much prefer Prince Casper.”
Bettina rolled beautiful sky colored eyes with disgust. Prince Casper! The pudgy, bumbling son of an underling king!
Cornia turned up her nose at her sister, “Well, he likes me...”
This interesting conversation was cut short by their mother's high pitched calling for “Pix-EEE.” Dutifully, the sisters both hurried off to help their mother find the little rascal of a dog.
Ellen, having finished tidying the rooms, slipped into her old room as she did once a week to dust it. She was startled to find Edward standing in the middle of the room, observing himself in the tall wall mirror. He had his left hand stuck into his vest and his right resting lightly on his hip. Chin in the air, his noise twitched and poor Ellen could not but help a bursting laughing. She clamped her hand over her mouth and quickly dove for cover under the bed, it's linens still on it.
Edward turned and strode over to the bed. Pausing in such a way to build apprehension in the girl under the bed, he suddenly bent down on one knee and twitched the covers up. Lowering his head to look beneath the heavy piece of furniture, his brown-flecked blue eyes met the pair of still laughing, though hesitant brown eyes of the girl laying flat on her stomach.
“Ah,” he remarked good-naturedly, “spying on me, lassie?”
She shook her head urgently, “No...no, Sir! I was just coming in to dust as it my habit and...and...”
Her giggles began to return and he laughed heartily himself.
“Come on out from under there,” he encouraged, reaching an arm under the bed to help pull her out.
As she half-wiggled, was half-pulled from under the bed, her left sleeve rode up nearly to her elbow. Regaining her feet, she expected Edward to release her immediately. Instead, he pushed the sleeve up a little higher and observed a semi-circular red spot on her arm.
“Oh, that's nothing,” Ellen quickly asserted, seeing his glance, “I merely burnt myself on a kettle.”
Edward let her pull her arm from his grasp, “It looks as if it were highly painful...and it did not heal properly.”
Ellen nodded, “It did hurt dreadfully...but it is well now; though,” she added regretfully, “it most certainly has scared.”
She set about her dusting, wondering if Edward would leave or stay. She hoped, against her better judgement, she scolded herself, that he would stay. And he did.
Perching himself upon a desk, he started to ramble about his previous visit to this place and the Princess Ellen as he remembered her. Ellen caught herself several times just in time not to give herself away with an “I remember that or this”. She was still dusting and he was still talking, in fact, giving a glowing description of her own ten-year-old self, when the Queen billowed in. Ellen quickly dropped a low, graceful curtsy of a fashion which caused Edward to raise an interested eyebrow. The Queen was cold as ice toward her step-daughter but was warm as a summer's breeze towards the young man.
“Will you not join us for a lovely walk out of doors...it will do all our spirit's good—after the terrible tragedy of last week.”
The Queen was quite an actress, tearing up at the mention of that “tragedy” which she herself had staged and executed so nicely. Ellen felt pity pour over her soul for poor Janet, back in the kitchens. Quickly gathering her things, she slipped away, not entirely unnoticed, to offer her heart-felt sympathy to the serving girl struggling with the art of bread making.
Meanwhile, out in the gardens, the Queen, with many a sigh and falsified tear, was unfolding a plan for her eldest daughter's birthday ball.
“Our dearest Ellen, such a sweet soul, would have been horrified if we had cancelled her sister's birthday party....”
Regardless of what he himself had personally thought of the so-called Ellen, Edward indeed found that a ball but two weeks after a tragic death, to be rather out of taste and would have refused to attend...only to do so would have been entirely unpolitic. He had to admit that at this point, he was primarily being politic. That was the only logical reason for his staying...but there was something deeper; the old man's words, he presumed, had stirred something within him and he felt instinctively that all was not right. Ellen was here...someplace. She who was dead was not Ellen...in fact, the idea suddenly occurred to him, there might not have been a death at all!
With this notion firmly implanted in his mind, and growing more sure with each minute, he began to develop a counter scheme to the queen's. He even became merry over the prospects, though the queen mistook it for enthusiasm for the proposed ball. Edward would be honest, he did like to dance, but the idea of getting to the bottom of the mystery of Ellen provoked far more enthusiasm than the ball.
The eve of the ball, Edward accosted the brunette maid with the big brown eyes on the stairs. His nose, habitually, twitched.
“Tell me,” he demanded jovially, “would you think me insane if I were to snub both of the princesses?”
Ellen's eye's widened and her eyebrows rose until they could rise no further. Her mouth opened slightly.
Edward suddenly closed his eyes and then opened the quickly, blinking several times. Ellen now stood with a slight frown, further in the shadows.
“I think, m'lord,” she returned, “it would be quite...rude...and impolitic.”
He sighed, “Unfortunately, so do I...”
Ellen quickly hurried on up the stairs, her heart pounding and aching. Bettina, she knew, would look down-right ravishing. Bettina knew it too...and had even deigned to bestow a single kind sentence on her step-sister. Corina had just beamed from across the room. When Ellen had finished fixing Cornia's hair, the girl had smiled into the reflection of Ellen's face and remarked, “You are really out-doing yourself tonight, Ellen. Why?”
Ellen had straightened Cornia's lace thoughtfully before answering, “Because I see it as my duty.”
Duty done, she could flee to her little room and weep. However weeping was not to be hers. Upon reaching her room, whom did she find but a flustered looking Janet. The girl threw herself forward and seized the princess's hands.
“Oh, please!! To show how horrid I feel about this whole thing...me pretending to be you...and you always so kind...I sneaked in and took this out of the closet. It was to be mine...but I know you can wear it!!”
Ellen gaped. Laid out on the bed was a royally red gown. It was magnificent!!
“Hurry!” Janet was nearly stumbling over herself to get Ellen undressed. “You musn't show up too late, m'lady.”
Allowing herself to be helped, Ellen protested, “But they will know me! This is no good!”
Janet smiled bravely, “You shall be there...and you shall sweep him off his feet! Believe me, I think he half suspects you are yourself already!”
“What?” Ellen could not help laughing at her self-appointed maid's slightly incoherent rattle.
How, exactly, she was not sure, but the dress fit exactly and Janet had her hair braided 'round her head just like a crown, with little ruby rosebuds tucked about it. The ball was only thirty minutes old and Ellen had conveniently missed supper. With Janet's help, the two girls snuck down stairs and Ellen was soon strolling through familiar corridors looking, and feeling, like the royal princess she was. When she reached the ball room, she hesitated, then stepped through the wide flung doors.
A glance around the room showed Corina sitting on the sidelines, near the refreshment table, head close to Prince Casper's. The two, busily nibbling on pastries and commenting on the appearance of other people, were perfectly happy in a world of their own making. Ellen smiled gently. Cornia's happiness pleased her, for the girl was simply heedless, not mean-spirited. Casper himself was not an overly thoughtful young man, but he was of an essentially kind nature.
Bettina was dancing with Edward, quite well to be sure, and looking as if she had him exactly where she wanted him. Many other couples were busily engaged with one another and few, if any, had noticed the entrance of a stunning red gown. The Queen, at the far end of the room, was herself inattentive to the dancing. Having seen Edward taken in hand by Bettina, she had turned her attentions to Pixy.
The dance ended and as the gentlemen led their partners off the floor, Edward saw her. He stopped short and nearly pulled Bettina off her feet by his abruptness. Before she could see where he was looking though, he regained his sense of awareness and made some excuse about his clumsiness in stepping upon his own feet!
Leaving Bettina by her mother's side, he quickly skirted the room and came up beside Ellen.
“You are here after all,” he breathed.
Without looking at him, Ellen returned quietly, “I am.”
“Where have you been?” he demanded, as he led her onto the dance floor, “And what was the farce with the girl who was not you pretending to be you?”
Ellen kept her face hidden as much as was feasible, more to protect it from the scrutiny of her step-mother and Bettina than to hide it from Edward.
“I have been here all the time, you just have not known me,” her answer was soft, and nearly drowned by the music and the laughter around them.
“Ha!” Edward's laugh was short and almost scornful. She could feel the ire rising in him and suddenly looked up straight into his face.
“I could not speak...nay, I cannot speak. If you know me not, I will not blame you.”
A fight for recognition was in his eyes when suddenly, Ellen broke and sped away, out into the gardens. He was fixing to follow when his arm was siezed. Turning to look down at the one who had grasped his arm, his eyes locked with Bettina's.
“What was that hussy doing here?” she demanded, “In my dead sister's dress no less.”
“That,” he retorted, shaking his arm free, “was the real Princess Ellen. Now, if you will excuse me...”
He headed out into the garden's himself, but his delay, short as it was, had lost Ellen from view. In her haste though, several of the buds had fallen from her hair, and these, he stooped and picked up. Raising his fist, in which they were clasped, he swore, “I shall find her..if I have to turn this castle upside down!”
The very next morning, he set about it. He started in the kitchens. Janet gasped at the sight of him and tried to hide, but he caught her.
“I did not think you were dead...and I know you are not the Princess Ellen. Who are you?”
Poor Janet gasped out, “J-just Janet, sir! Oh please!! It was not my idea!”
“No, of course not,” he said more kindly. “Where might I find the real Ellen?”
Janet looked around fearfully, “I cannot tell you...I dare not! But she is here, in this castle.”
Edward decided to be kind to the girl and not force her to tell him any more. Returning to his search, he raided store room and stable; though they were hardly places he expected to find her. He looked into sleeping quarters and closed off rooms. His first day's search turned up nothing more than frightened eyes and trembling dust bunnies, hiding in corners.
Ellen had studious avoided him all day; partly because she was sporting a very unbecoming shiner. Cornia had actually defended her from Bettina's spite and had been knocked down the stairs violently. That was the other reason for Ellen's avoidance...she was tending poor Cornia's split head.
As Edward was preparing for bed that night, he suddenly straightened up, stiff as a poker. "Why of course! The scar!!" he exploded to his reflection. With that revelation, he promptly threw himself into the bed and pulled the covers over his head in an attempt to sleep and bring morning sooner.
Immediately after breakfast, which was strangely unattended by Queen and Princesses, Edward approached the royal living quarters. Bettina refused to yield him entrance, claiming Cornia's condition, brought on, she claimed, “by too many dainties and punch” to be delicate to undergo the upset and outrage.
Edward informed her that she was simply stalling him and pushed her aside, as gently as an irritated man is wont to do. He ignored the living quarters of the sisters and mother and headed straight for the little maid's room. Opening the door, he found no evidence of the red dress. But just as affirmative as if he had were the little red rosebuds laid lovingly upon the window frame.
Turning toward the indignant Bettina, he demanded, “Where is she? Where is Princess Ellen?”
“Dead.” Bettina retorted. “You know that very well.”
“Oh no, I do not,” Edward assured her. “If you are speaking of your fake, I spoke to her just yesterday morning in the kitchen. Poor girl was terrified and would tell me nothing. Where is my princess?” He demanded again.
Suddenly a yell broke from Cornia's room. It was a yell that caused everyone to run toward it. The door was pushed open and Cornia was sitting in the middle of the bed, yelling at the top of her lungs. Seeing Edward, she quit yelling and grinned, despite the lump on her face and pointed towards the casement.
Ellen stood there, her back to the room, hands over her ears.
Edward smiled suddenly and crossed the room at a run. Catching her by the shoulders, he turned her to him and said, “I was right. It is you!”
Then his face darkened as he lifted her chin and saw the bruise on her face, “Who did this to you?”
“It does not matter now,” she said softly, her fingers closing over his wrist.
With a suddenness that startled her, he drew her to him and wrapped his arms about her. Cornia grinned and then reported loudly, “Mother, I am going to marry Prince Caspar. He is such a droll lamb!”
From the comfort of Edward's arms Ellen began to laugh. Edward soon picked up her merriment and the two of them stood there, happily together, laughing with relief and joy and pure hilarity at Cornia's declaration of love.
Suddenly, the sound of many feet and the jangling arms was heard. The door flew open and an old man in ragged clothing stood in the door way. He spoke authoritatively.
“Those two. Take them away and lock them in the dungeon.”
The Queen drew herself up haughtily, “I am queen here...how dare you speak so!!”
Edward gasped slightly, “The old man!”
Ellen leaned forward and when the old man turn his head and smiled at her, as the men-at-arm's seized the Queen and Bettina, she suddenly darted forward with a cry of great delight.
“Papa!!”
And so it was that the king, after many years of wondering had returned home. He saw his daughter wed the very next week and the week after that handed Cornia to young Casper as wife.
Edward and Ellen lived long and happily and reigned righteously, raising many children to the glory of God.
Also, to satisfy your curiosity on the front of Cornia and Caspar...they too lived long and happily. They grew old and fat together, and boasted five fine children, each with a sense of humor to match that of their two parents combined. Droll lambs indeed!
When Ellen was ten, a neighboring king came with his twelve year old son, Edward. The two young persons, while not of marriageable age, were promised to one another by their respective fathers, seeing as they were of complimentary personalities and tempers. Both fathers, as the two families separated, impressed upon their children the future blessing to both kingdoms through the prospective union and encouraged them, on and off, throughout the years to think on one another kindly.
As it came to pass, in the course of time, when Ellen was a bright, cheerful girl of fifteen, that her father wed again. His bride had two beautiful blonde daughters of comparable age to Ellen; one sixteen and the other fourteen. The girl's names were Bettina and Corina. For a princess, Ellen was a common enough featured girl. However, her hair was a rich brown and was wavy and full of life. Her eyes were brown and often twinkled with good-humor. Her sweet temper gave her plain features a rare beauty...a beauty that far surpassed the stunning features and form of her step-sisters.
Then, just months after the wedding, Ellen's father met a mysterious fate while out riding. His royal charger returned home, riderless and panic stricken. His body was never found, but he was presumed dead.
Meanwhile, in those few months, Ellen had been treated with indifference by her step-mother and teased mercilessly by her step-sisters. Her brown hair was taunted as not befitting a future queen. Upon the disappearance of her father, poor Ellen received extra mistreatment. Her step-mother's indifference quickly evaporated and the girl herself “disappeared”. The word was passed throughout the kingdom that Princess Ellen had suffered a severe shock. Another girl was substituted in her place and when it was noted “how different she looks”, the Queen always was quick to point out, in a prettily persuasive way that the “poor child has been terribly affected by her father's...ahem, disappearance”.
Stripped of her royal clothing and dressed in servant's garb, Ellen soon became familiar with the ways of being private maid to her step-mother and sisters. Sweet and good-tempered, she was nevertheless grieved at the treatment she received. Soon, however, she accepted it and quietly went about doing her duties as sedately as any born maid. Once she tried to explain to someone that she was herself Princess Ellen, but the laughter she received in response to her claims crushed her hope of being believed. The unjust treatment did not serve to sour her temper, instead, she turned more to the Hope of her salvation and underwent unkind words and unfeeling slaps with a gentleness that further infuriated her already bitter step-mother.
Thus the years passed. With each year that slipped by, Bettina and Cornia became more and more ravishing to look upon. Their features were always accented in a way to make them look the most becoming by the work roughened hands of Ellen. Ellen took a secret joy in making them look as beautiful as possible; she loved beautiful things and when she did an exceptionally good job, she occasionally received a kind smile from Cornia. Corina was a bit of a dim-wit, according to her sister, and really had no real dislike for Ellen; her treatment of her was more a thoughtlessness than real maliciousness.
With each year that passed, Ellen grew more and more sweet-tempered and the kindness of her soul gave her a beauty about her large brown eyes that both her gorgeous sisters lacked.
One secret grief only did she harbor. Only once did she break her silence upon the subject--and at that it was to a mouse that learned to trust her by her kind feeding it bread crumbs.
“Ah, little mouse,” Ellen sighed, at about the time of her nineteenth birthday, “in a little over a year, Edward should be coming to collect his bride. It was agreed, many years hence that once I reached twenty, he was to come and wed me.”
She pushed her hair out of her face with a hand red from the hot water she had prepared for her sister's baths.
“But I, as myself, do not exist anymore.” She chuckled suddenly, a rather unhappy sounding chuckle, “What I mean, little mouse, is that Princess Ellen, as presented to the world, is not me...and I, well, I am me; but one would hardly guess I was raised a princess.”
She fell silent and stared out the window at the growing dusk, “I wonder,” she murmured, “if he will have any idea that Princess Ellen is not myself.”
It was in this next year that Ellen's heart grew heavier and her normal singing was dampened a bit. She found herself longing to see Edward...and surprised at the love she had for him, unknown as he was. Her father had always told her to try and love the man she was to marry, even as a girl, and she found it difficult to realise how much she cared for him.
Then, on the other hand, she was frightened of seeing him, as she knew must happen shortly. Her fear was in part because she felt sure that he would not know her and marry another.
As the day neared when Edward was to arrive at the castle, the whole place had been turned nearly upside down with excitement. Let the reader be assured that the Queen had no intention of letting Edward marry either of the “Princess” Ellens...the real one or the false one. She had her heart set on seeing him wed to Bettina, though, of course, Cornia would do just as well if she suited him better.
It was thusly that she laid her plans and expounded them to the three girls. Ellen overheard, but said nothing. Inwardly she cried out with grief at the deception to be played upon her betrothed, but outwardly, she stayed calm, even when Bettina taunted her: “I shall wed him! See if I do not, Ellen...you shall see him happily wed to me!”
Ellen wept into her pillow that night; and in part in grief for the crashing of the life of her stand-in. Janet, for that was her name, was to have an “accident”. Janet, after five years of pampering, had not found the idea overly pleasing, but she understood well that she was by-no means to actually marry the visiting prince. Instead, she was to join her predecessor in plain sight oblivion. It would be quite easy to do. Strip her, like Ellen, of fancy dresses and well-set hair and she would look as much like a common servant as the true princess. It would a be rude shock to the girl to have to re-learn her place as a servant.
The day of Edward's arrival came. Ellen stood amongst the curious crowd as he rode in, dressed in a rich blue and orange riding suit. His reddish hair was blown into a bit of a fuzz about his head—he had obviously been hatless for a portion of the ride. Freckles danced across his good-natured face and he had an amusing fashion of frequently twitching his nose as if he were fighting a sneeze. Blue eyes, tinged with brown flecks, greeted the gawkers with a brand of laughter that was unique to a easy-going spirit.
His eyes met Ellen's for a moment. Abuptly, he swung back to look at her, but she had quickly stepped out of view, for she had felt a flush and smile rising to her face. It would not do to draw extra attention to herself...especially not in public!
Soon Prince Edward was ushered into the presence of the Queen and the three girls.
He bowed low, “Greetings, oh most noble Queen!”
The Queen felt slightly nettled at this greeting, for he seemed, she thought, nearly too light-hearted. Almost as if he were mocking her, she mused.
Ignoring her irritation, she rose to her feet and welcomed him grandly. Then turning she indicated the three girls, “Oh most noble Prince, here is a riddle for you. Which of these lovely creatures is your bride?”
The girl's obligingly giggled as Edward gave a brief bow. Once thoroughly upright, the Prince scrutinized them closely.
Bettina batted her eyes at him, head slightly lowered. “Ellen” lifted her chin and smiled at him rather archly. Cornia looked a little perplexed and reached up and pulled absently at a curl.
Edward puckered up his forehead slightly, “If I recall correctly, my young lady had brown hair...not blonde (Bettina's face froze slightly and Corina's eye's suddenly twinkled). But...but...” Here he looked closely at Janet, “This face seem different.”
The Queen suddenly pushed Janet toward him, “She was so deeply affected by her father's disappearance...”
Edward nodded, “I see,” but made no motion as to step towards her.
Just at that moment, Ellen herself came careening into the room. She grabbed at one of the decorative pillars to keep herself from either sliding to an unbalanced stop and possibly falling flat on the floor, or from bowling the prince over. The Queen glared in her direction. Ellen forced herself not to look at Edward, though she unconsciously drew herself up into a more dignified stance.
“Well? What is the meaning of this intrusion?”
Ellen gasped, “I beg your pardon, your Majesty, but Pixy has nearly drowned!”
Pixy was the Queen's pet dog; and nothing was more important to the queen than that dog, excepting her daughters. Four feminine wails went up and four feminine figures went rushing out to check on the poor little pup. Ellen turned to follow, when Edward's voice halted her.
“Pixy, eh?”
Ellen turned to look at him and saw that he was laughing. Her own face relaxed into a guarded smile and she dropped him a little curtsy, as dainty as anyone could have done.
“He is such a tiny little dog.”
“Ah, I see...a dog!”
Edward's eyes were still laughing; Ellen's smile got a little wider, for the image of the four women scurrying out was indeed amusing. She dropped another crusty, as if to excuse herself, and started to leave the room.
Once again, Edward's voice halted her.
“Stay a minute...if you have one?”
Ellen stopped and turned about, cautiously, “A short one, Sir...”
He took a couple of steps toward her, “I shan't detain you long. I was just wondering...is it possible for one to become so changed in ten years time to be completely unrecognizable? From a girl of ten to a women of twenty...wouldn't there be some resemblance by which I might content myself that it is she?”
He seemed almost to be speaking to himself, but then he turned back and looked at her, “Well?”
Ellen paused, then said hesitantly, “I suppose it is possible. Why?”
The question slipped out before she realized it. Edward did not seem to notice, nor the fact that the maid was addressing him as an equal.
He shifted, “I do not know why I'm telling you this...but I do not think that the brunette is Ellen. It seems so odd too coming on the heels of the old man's speech to me.”
Ellen must have looked her curiosity, for he continued, “I met an odd old man just outside the town. He could have been crazy, but I do not know. He seemed vaguely familiar..." He paused. "Well, nevermind...He told me, 'Marry not in haste. Let the love your father fostered inform your heart.' Then he was gone. But how did he know that my father has taught me from my youth to love the princess? No...no, I cannot think that it is she. She is all wrong somehow.”
Hearing footsteps, Ellen suddenly bobbed and rushed away, her heart a mixture of grief and singing joy.
So he had not fallen for her step-mother's trap!
Yet. She reminded herself...yet.
Without saying as much, Prince Edward made it clear that he wanted more time to consider his marriage prospects. To the Queen, he seemed to be playing directly into her hands. Within the week, “Princess Ellen” had had a disastrous horse-back riding accident. The real Ellen wondered if Edward found it unusual that he was not allowed to see the “body”. Janet found herself relegated to the kitchens; introduced as “a new scullery maid”, she had to re-learn many of the things she had had bred out of her over the last five years.
Edward had free-rein of the castle. Who was going to tell the strapping young red-headed prince that he was not allowed to roam as he pleased? He spent much time visiting the old rooms were he and his father had visited with Princess Ellen and her father years ago.
“From the way he stands,” Bettina complained to her sister, “you would think he expects the walls to tell him the truth!”
Corina frowned thoughtfully, “You think he knows that she wasn't really Ellen?”
Bettina snapped, “Oh hush, you little dimwit! You musn't even speak of such things aloud.”
Cornia shrugged pretty rounded shoulders, “I shouldn't want to marry him anyhow...I much prefer Prince Casper.”
Bettina rolled beautiful sky colored eyes with disgust. Prince Casper! The pudgy, bumbling son of an underling king!
Cornia turned up her nose at her sister, “Well, he likes me...”
This interesting conversation was cut short by their mother's high pitched calling for “Pix-EEE.” Dutifully, the sisters both hurried off to help their mother find the little rascal of a dog.
Ellen, having finished tidying the rooms, slipped into her old room as she did once a week to dust it. She was startled to find Edward standing in the middle of the room, observing himself in the tall wall mirror. He had his left hand stuck into his vest and his right resting lightly on his hip. Chin in the air, his noise twitched and poor Ellen could not but help a bursting laughing. She clamped her hand over her mouth and quickly dove for cover under the bed, it's linens still on it.
Edward turned and strode over to the bed. Pausing in such a way to build apprehension in the girl under the bed, he suddenly bent down on one knee and twitched the covers up. Lowering his head to look beneath the heavy piece of furniture, his brown-flecked blue eyes met the pair of still laughing, though hesitant brown eyes of the girl laying flat on her stomach.
“Ah,” he remarked good-naturedly, “spying on me, lassie?”
She shook her head urgently, “No...no, Sir! I was just coming in to dust as it my habit and...and...”
Her giggles began to return and he laughed heartily himself.
“Come on out from under there,” he encouraged, reaching an arm under the bed to help pull her out.
As she half-wiggled, was half-pulled from under the bed, her left sleeve rode up nearly to her elbow. Regaining her feet, she expected Edward to release her immediately. Instead, he pushed the sleeve up a little higher and observed a semi-circular red spot on her arm.
“Oh, that's nothing,” Ellen quickly asserted, seeing his glance, “I merely burnt myself on a kettle.”
Edward let her pull her arm from his grasp, “It looks as if it were highly painful...and it did not heal properly.”
Ellen nodded, “It did hurt dreadfully...but it is well now; though,” she added regretfully, “it most certainly has scared.”
She set about her dusting, wondering if Edward would leave or stay. She hoped, against her better judgement, she scolded herself, that he would stay. And he did.
Perching himself upon a desk, he started to ramble about his previous visit to this place and the Princess Ellen as he remembered her. Ellen caught herself several times just in time not to give herself away with an “I remember that or this”. She was still dusting and he was still talking, in fact, giving a glowing description of her own ten-year-old self, when the Queen billowed in. Ellen quickly dropped a low, graceful curtsy of a fashion which caused Edward to raise an interested eyebrow. The Queen was cold as ice toward her step-daughter but was warm as a summer's breeze towards the young man.
“Will you not join us for a lovely walk out of doors...it will do all our spirit's good—after the terrible tragedy of last week.”
The Queen was quite an actress, tearing up at the mention of that “tragedy” which she herself had staged and executed so nicely. Ellen felt pity pour over her soul for poor Janet, back in the kitchens. Quickly gathering her things, she slipped away, not entirely unnoticed, to offer her heart-felt sympathy to the serving girl struggling with the art of bread making.
Meanwhile, out in the gardens, the Queen, with many a sigh and falsified tear, was unfolding a plan for her eldest daughter's birthday ball.
“Our dearest Ellen, such a sweet soul, would have been horrified if we had cancelled her sister's birthday party....”
Regardless of what he himself had personally thought of the so-called Ellen, Edward indeed found that a ball but two weeks after a tragic death, to be rather out of taste and would have refused to attend...only to do so would have been entirely unpolitic. He had to admit that at this point, he was primarily being politic. That was the only logical reason for his staying...but there was something deeper; the old man's words, he presumed, had stirred something within him and he felt instinctively that all was not right. Ellen was here...someplace. She who was dead was not Ellen...in fact, the idea suddenly occurred to him, there might not have been a death at all!
With this notion firmly implanted in his mind, and growing more sure with each minute, he began to develop a counter scheme to the queen's. He even became merry over the prospects, though the queen mistook it for enthusiasm for the proposed ball. Edward would be honest, he did like to dance, but the idea of getting to the bottom of the mystery of Ellen provoked far more enthusiasm than the ball.
The eve of the ball, Edward accosted the brunette maid with the big brown eyes on the stairs. His nose, habitually, twitched.
“Tell me,” he demanded jovially, “would you think me insane if I were to snub both of the princesses?”
Ellen's eye's widened and her eyebrows rose until they could rise no further. Her mouth opened slightly.
Edward suddenly closed his eyes and then opened the quickly, blinking several times. Ellen now stood with a slight frown, further in the shadows.
“I think, m'lord,” she returned, “it would be quite...rude...and impolitic.”
He sighed, “Unfortunately, so do I...”
Ellen quickly hurried on up the stairs, her heart pounding and aching. Bettina, she knew, would look down-right ravishing. Bettina knew it too...and had even deigned to bestow a single kind sentence on her step-sister. Corina had just beamed from across the room. When Ellen had finished fixing Cornia's hair, the girl had smiled into the reflection of Ellen's face and remarked, “You are really out-doing yourself tonight, Ellen. Why?”
Ellen had straightened Cornia's lace thoughtfully before answering, “Because I see it as my duty.”
Duty done, she could flee to her little room and weep. However weeping was not to be hers. Upon reaching her room, whom did she find but a flustered looking Janet. The girl threw herself forward and seized the princess's hands.
“Oh, please!! To show how horrid I feel about this whole thing...me pretending to be you...and you always so kind...I sneaked in and took this out of the closet. It was to be mine...but I know you can wear it!!”
Ellen gaped. Laid out on the bed was a royally red gown. It was magnificent!!
“Hurry!” Janet was nearly stumbling over herself to get Ellen undressed. “You musn't show up too late, m'lady.”
Allowing herself to be helped, Ellen protested, “But they will know me! This is no good!”
Janet smiled bravely, “You shall be there...and you shall sweep him off his feet! Believe me, I think he half suspects you are yourself already!”
“What?” Ellen could not help laughing at her self-appointed maid's slightly incoherent rattle.
How, exactly, she was not sure, but the dress fit exactly and Janet had her hair braided 'round her head just like a crown, with little ruby rosebuds tucked about it. The ball was only thirty minutes old and Ellen had conveniently missed supper. With Janet's help, the two girls snuck down stairs and Ellen was soon strolling through familiar corridors looking, and feeling, like the royal princess she was. When she reached the ball room, she hesitated, then stepped through the wide flung doors.
A glance around the room showed Corina sitting on the sidelines, near the refreshment table, head close to Prince Casper's. The two, busily nibbling on pastries and commenting on the appearance of other people, were perfectly happy in a world of their own making. Ellen smiled gently. Cornia's happiness pleased her, for the girl was simply heedless, not mean-spirited. Casper himself was not an overly thoughtful young man, but he was of an essentially kind nature.
Bettina was dancing with Edward, quite well to be sure, and looking as if she had him exactly where she wanted him. Many other couples were busily engaged with one another and few, if any, had noticed the entrance of a stunning red gown. The Queen, at the far end of the room, was herself inattentive to the dancing. Having seen Edward taken in hand by Bettina, she had turned her attentions to Pixy.
The dance ended and as the gentlemen led their partners off the floor, Edward saw her. He stopped short and nearly pulled Bettina off her feet by his abruptness. Before she could see where he was looking though, he regained his sense of awareness and made some excuse about his clumsiness in stepping upon his own feet!
Leaving Bettina by her mother's side, he quickly skirted the room and came up beside Ellen.
“You are here after all,” he breathed.
Without looking at him, Ellen returned quietly, “I am.”
“Where have you been?” he demanded, as he led her onto the dance floor, “And what was the farce with the girl who was not you pretending to be you?”
Ellen kept her face hidden as much as was feasible, more to protect it from the scrutiny of her step-mother and Bettina than to hide it from Edward.
“I have been here all the time, you just have not known me,” her answer was soft, and nearly drowned by the music and the laughter around them.
“Ha!” Edward's laugh was short and almost scornful. She could feel the ire rising in him and suddenly looked up straight into his face.
“I could not speak...nay, I cannot speak. If you know me not, I will not blame you.”
A fight for recognition was in his eyes when suddenly, Ellen broke and sped away, out into the gardens. He was fixing to follow when his arm was siezed. Turning to look down at the one who had grasped his arm, his eyes locked with Bettina's.
“What was that hussy doing here?” she demanded, “In my dead sister's dress no less.”
“That,” he retorted, shaking his arm free, “was the real Princess Ellen. Now, if you will excuse me...”
He headed out into the garden's himself, but his delay, short as it was, had lost Ellen from view. In her haste though, several of the buds had fallen from her hair, and these, he stooped and picked up. Raising his fist, in which they were clasped, he swore, “I shall find her..if I have to turn this castle upside down!”
The very next morning, he set about it. He started in the kitchens. Janet gasped at the sight of him and tried to hide, but he caught her.
“I did not think you were dead...and I know you are not the Princess Ellen. Who are you?”
Poor Janet gasped out, “J-just Janet, sir! Oh please!! It was not my idea!”
“No, of course not,” he said more kindly. “Where might I find the real Ellen?”
Janet looked around fearfully, “I cannot tell you...I dare not! But she is here, in this castle.”
Edward decided to be kind to the girl and not force her to tell him any more. Returning to his search, he raided store room and stable; though they were hardly places he expected to find her. He looked into sleeping quarters and closed off rooms. His first day's search turned up nothing more than frightened eyes and trembling dust bunnies, hiding in corners.
Ellen had studious avoided him all day; partly because she was sporting a very unbecoming shiner. Cornia had actually defended her from Bettina's spite and had been knocked down the stairs violently. That was the other reason for Ellen's avoidance...she was tending poor Cornia's split head.
As Edward was preparing for bed that night, he suddenly straightened up, stiff as a poker. "Why of course! The scar!!" he exploded to his reflection. With that revelation, he promptly threw himself into the bed and pulled the covers over his head in an attempt to sleep and bring morning sooner.
Immediately after breakfast, which was strangely unattended by Queen and Princesses, Edward approached the royal living quarters. Bettina refused to yield him entrance, claiming Cornia's condition, brought on, she claimed, “by too many dainties and punch” to be delicate to undergo the upset and outrage.
Edward informed her that she was simply stalling him and pushed her aside, as gently as an irritated man is wont to do. He ignored the living quarters of the sisters and mother and headed straight for the little maid's room. Opening the door, he found no evidence of the red dress. But just as affirmative as if he had were the little red rosebuds laid lovingly upon the window frame.
Turning toward the indignant Bettina, he demanded, “Where is she? Where is Princess Ellen?”
“Dead.” Bettina retorted. “You know that very well.”
“Oh no, I do not,” Edward assured her. “If you are speaking of your fake, I spoke to her just yesterday morning in the kitchen. Poor girl was terrified and would tell me nothing. Where is my princess?” He demanded again.
Suddenly a yell broke from Cornia's room. It was a yell that caused everyone to run toward it. The door was pushed open and Cornia was sitting in the middle of the bed, yelling at the top of her lungs. Seeing Edward, she quit yelling and grinned, despite the lump on her face and pointed towards the casement.
Ellen stood there, her back to the room, hands over her ears.
Edward smiled suddenly and crossed the room at a run. Catching her by the shoulders, he turned her to him and said, “I was right. It is you!”
Then his face darkened as he lifted her chin and saw the bruise on her face, “Who did this to you?”
“It does not matter now,” she said softly, her fingers closing over his wrist.
With a suddenness that startled her, he drew her to him and wrapped his arms about her. Cornia grinned and then reported loudly, “Mother, I am going to marry Prince Caspar. He is such a droll lamb!”
From the comfort of Edward's arms Ellen began to laugh. Edward soon picked up her merriment and the two of them stood there, happily together, laughing with relief and joy and pure hilarity at Cornia's declaration of love.
Suddenly, the sound of many feet and the jangling arms was heard. The door flew open and an old man in ragged clothing stood in the door way. He spoke authoritatively.
“Those two. Take them away and lock them in the dungeon.”
The Queen drew herself up haughtily, “I am queen here...how dare you speak so!!”
Edward gasped slightly, “The old man!”
Ellen leaned forward and when the old man turn his head and smiled at her, as the men-at-arm's seized the Queen and Bettina, she suddenly darted forward with a cry of great delight.
“Papa!!”
And so it was that the king, after many years of wondering had returned home. He saw his daughter wed the very next week and the week after that handed Cornia to young Casper as wife.
Edward and Ellen lived long and happily and reigned righteously, raising many children to the glory of God.
Also, to satisfy your curiosity on the front of Cornia and Caspar...they too lived long and happily. They grew old and fat together, and boasted five fine children, each with a sense of humor to match that of their two parents combined. Droll lambs indeed!