King Leonard and his new wife were in attendance in the foyer of their great hall when Princess Cornelia and her entourage returned from the fair just on time -- and alone. When his younger daughter blossomed forth all smiles as usual through the front door with her ladies in waiting, the king awaited her sister's entrance just afterward. When Princess Sarah and her company did not materialize, Leonard cast a frustrated smile in the direction of the nervous young man who stood at attention at the edge of the room. The bewildered servant, plucked from the obscurity of the East Wing waitstaff that very morning and still not at all sure this wasn't all a cruel joke, acknowledged the gesture with a tiny smile of his own. Though nervous, he was secretly delighted at the postponement of his inevitable humiliation.
"Welcome, my dear," the king said in an even tone with a nod. "How did you find the fair?"
"Delightful as always, Father," Cornelia replied. "We all are quite delighted to have made the trip and to now be home; I can't wait to bathe." She fanned herself lightly with her right hand, enjoying the indoor shade for the first time in hours. "It is ever so hot and humid out there!"
"As you wish, my dear," the king replied. "But where is your sister?"
"Don't be absurd, Leonard," Lady Clara snapped. "You know as well as I the elder princess surely stopped along the way to make fun with that harlot Marguerite!"
"Stepmum!" Cornelia exclaimed. "Whatever my differences with my sister, I'll not have you saying such things..."
"Now, now," King Leonard reproved his daughter. "You may not wish to hear it, but your stepmother no doubt speaks rightly and you know it as well as I. I asked only wishing that you might confirm what we suspected."
"What you suspected?" Cornelia replied, now bemused. "You suspected, of course, that Sarah and Marguerite and at least one of her other ladies overindulged on wine punch and who knows what else while at the fair, that they might satisfy her bizarre carnal desires on the trip home?"
King Leonard nodded knowingly. "Yes, my dear."
"Well," Cornelia continued, "She no doubt did. I know nothing but that our carriage stopped at the Willows Inn for refreshments and the privy and no one there had seen Sarah, though she and her ladies had left the fair before we did. I have no proof, but also no question that they stopped somewhere and went into the forest to do things a princess oughtn't in a place where no one ought do those things." Through all of this, Cornelia's ladies in waiting stood at attention, too frightened to say a word, but all of them perversely amused at it all and a few of them privately jealous of Sarah's ladies.
"I believed as much," King Leonard admitted. "And that is why I have an unorthodox plan regarding the gap left in her entourage."
"Ah yes," Cornelia said haughtily. "One of her ladies was bidden to retire to the city for nine months, was she not?"
"Indeed," her father confirmed. "And in her place, I have elected to appoint a male." He gestured to the young man -- his name was Justin -- still standing stock still at the edge of the room, sweating profusely and pretending not to have heard every word that had been uttered. Surely the king did not really intend this for him!
Cornelia looked askance at Justin. She then looked back at her father and at her own ladies, who knew their share of her secrets, and then back at Justin. And she burst out in laughter. "We shall see if Sarah's immodesty shall continue with
him
in the wings, now shan't we?"
"Indeed," agreed her father. "I shouldn't wonder we shall cool the baser instincts of our headstrong rogue princess with this development." King Leonard, vexed for a decade or more by the unorthodox habits he knew his daughter to indulge in so openly -- inspired, it seemed, by watching her horses mate in the springtime and coming to enjoy such a powerful burst of joy in the open herself -- was satisfied that he should tame her through such a simple strategy as appealing to vanity and shame. If only he had not thought of such a plan years before, when Princess Sarah had not yet created a reputation for herself for being as shamelessly hot-blooded as any man and come to be known far and wide as The Horny Princess -- but reputations could be repaired. At least in
his
family they could. This he knew from experience.
Cornelia had guessed correctly as to Sarah's whereabouts. An hour or so earlier, as Princess Sarah and her company were making their leisurely way home along the bumpy road, all knew the stage was set for a furtive stop in a favoured meadow. A few of her ladies were quietly making bets as to which bump in the road would inspire the princess to order James to halt the carriage. For all that, Sarah was lounging serenely in her cushioned chair, chatting amicably with Marguerite and a few of the other ladies who of course dared not speak what was on everyone's mind. But they all knew Princess Sarah well enough to know she would never pass on the opportunity for a stop on a hot day like this.
Sensing the princess may have winced at a particularly jarring bump, Darlene, the youngest and newest of the ladies in waiting, piped up. "Shall I call for a halt, madam?"
"Aye, Darlene, that is a wonderful idea," Sarah replied. "Marguerite, would you like to stop and stretch our legs?"
"If you wish, madam," replied dark-haired Marguerite, who never missed an opportunity to join the princess in her naughty games. Today, having drunk rather a lot of wine punch at the fair, she would have preferred to get to the Willow Inn and its privy as soon as possible; but joining the princess in the meadow was worth squirming a bit on the remainder of the trip.
"Honestly, Marguerite," Darlene confided in her elder colleague while Sarah was ordering James to pull off the road onto a path she knew well, "I shan't ever understand the appeal of this silly ritual. Aren't you horribly embarrassed by it all? What if a hunter in the woods should spot you?"
"Nay," Marguerite reassured her with a sinful grin. "I am not horribly embarrassed when that happens, I am delightfully embarrassed. One understands or one doesn't, my dear, but the rush of joy and the palpable intimacy of it all, are all well worth a moment's discomfort."
"
When