What was the phrase the chambermaid had used? "I'm a great galoomph of a girl."
The schoolmaster winced visibly at the phrase. "Please don't refer to yourself in that demeaning way," he said abruptly. Then his voice softened. "You are tall and slender as a young willow tree, supple and lovely. Remember that."
She nodded. "Yes, sir. Young willow tree."
The schoolmaster looked around the room, and his gaze settled on one pudgy boy. "Fred," he said, and beckoned to the boy.
"Yes, sir?"
"Move that empty desk, the one in the corner, and place it at the girls' end of our semicircle."
The boy obeyed and began to drag the desk to its place.
"And I," the schoolmaster said, "will make a nametag for your desk. That is, if you will tell me your name, which you have so far neglected to do."
"Blimey," the princess said aloud, imitating the chambermaid again. "I forgot."
"Excuse me?" The schoolmaster was at his tall desk, holding his quill pen.
"I forgot I had to have a name."
He eyed her curiously.
She cleared her throat. "Ah, it's Pat," she said. "Quite a short name because I'm merely a humble peasant."
"Well, that wasn't so hard, was it, to remember your own name?" He began to write the letters.
"No."
He looked up. "No what?"
"No, it wasn't. I mean: No, sir."
For the first time the schoolmaster smiled slightly. Then he placed the nametag, with its carefully lettered on her desk. He gestured to her to take her seat.
When she was seated, he leaned forward and looked at her more closely. He sighed. "Your face is dirty," he observed, "and so are your fingernails."
"Because I'm a poor peasant," the princess replied.
"Everyone in this room is a poor peasant," he said sternly, "including me. But we are all clean."
The princess looked around and saw that it was true. How had she gotten things so wrong? The other pupils' feet were dirty, all of them bare and coated with dust from the path (the schoolmaster wore high-topped suede shoes), but their faces were scrubbed, their hair was brushed, and their fingernails were clean.
"Go outside to the pump and wash," he told her. "Then come back quietly and take your seat for a spelling lesson.
"And," he added, "when you return, leave your cat outside."
The cat had curled around her feet, under the desk. Now opening both amber eyes at the sound of the word "cat," Delicious yawned, stood, and followed the princess as she left the room.
"You stay out here and lie in the sun," she told her pet as she dutifully cleaned her hands and face at the pump. "Wait for me. At the end of the school day, we'll go back to the castle and I'll summon your nice sardines for supper." She stroked the furry neck briefly.
The banished cat yawned and looked around, then extended the claws of all four feet, trying them out, because they had never been used for anything beyond dismantling embroidery. Now, above, a nest of plump and tasty-looking baby wrens was clearly visible. Across the schoolyard the cat perceived an appetizing small rodent of some sort, nibbling on a fern. The tip of a rough, pink, glistening tongue emerged.
The princess could almost read her cat's mind. "Don't be malicious, Delicious," she commanded, and shook her finger in warning. Then she left the cat there and returned, scrubbed clean, to the schoolroom.
***
"Oh, it was lovely, Tess, just lovely," the princess said at the end of the day, back in her bedchamber. "We had poetry and penmanship, and in geography I learned the names of all the domains, in alphabetical order."
"Domains, miss?" The chambermaid, reclothed, finished buttoning her dress and reached for the starched apron that had lain all day folded on the damask chair.
"You know, other principalities and kingdoms. Fiefdoms, too. Places ruled by other royalty, not us."
"Didn't even know there was other, miss."
"Oh, of course, there are tons! There's Analgesia, Bulimia, Coagulatia..." She sat, then held out her left foot so that the chambermaid could lace and tie her shoe. "I'm reciting them alphabetically," she explained. "Dyspepsia," she said next.
"I heard about that one," the chambermaid said. "There's a duke there."
The princess made a face of disgust. "Duke Desmond. A face like a warthog. No other domain has a ruler so hideous."
"Sorry to hear that, miss. There, this foot's done. Hold out the other."
The princess did so. "Why are you sorry to hear about stupid old Duke Desmond? He never comes here."
"Oh, but he will, ma'am. His name is on the list."
"What list? Is there a list of repulsive rulers?" The princess laughed, then reached for her hairbrush.
The chambermaid bit her lip uneasily. "Maybe I shouldn't have said, miss. But there's a list in the kitchen so's Cook can plan the food. A list of who's coming to your Birthday Ball."
Angrily the princess flung the silver-backed brush to her bed. Her cat, lying there, looked up, startled.
"Oh, don't be so suspicious, Delicious," the princess said in an irritated voice. "I wasn't aiming at you.
"Why would that warthog be invited to my ball?"
The chambermaid looked very nervous. She curtsied and began to edge herself toward the door.
"You know something I don't know! Tell me at once! This is a command!"
The chambermaid curtsied again and whispered it. "He's a suitor, miss. He's on the suitor list."
"No!" The princess gasped in horror.
"Yes, miss."
"Are there others? Who else is on the list?"
"I need a minute to think, miss." The chambermaid closed her eyes and tried to see the list in her mind. "Duke Desmond of Dyspepsia."
"You said that already. The warthog. Who else?"
"Ah, Prince Percival of—"
"Oh, no!" the princess wailed. "Of Pustula! Not him! He has dandruff, and he oozes foul-smelling hair oil!" She flung herself onto her bed. The cat hopped down in dismay and moved to the window seat instead.
"Anyone else?" the princess asked with a groan.