Chapter 6

Chapter Six

One rhyme concluded,

One reek theorized.

Dear Princess Bring,

I desire your wonderful and unmatched company.

Do dusk plans engage you tomorrow night?

I long that it will not be so, and that you might join me in my queendom at the earliest moonlight hour of your convenience.

Queen Perantiqua

I had run over the letter one hundred times in my mind since sending Toil to deliver the message before dawn. I’d had little to do with female monsters, and though I very much enjoyed my first interaction with Princess Bring, some doubt wound about me about whether she had felt the same.

If Princess Bring did not come, then other princesses might not rush to meet me.

This evening, Valetise had dressed me in clinging gold silk. The material hid nothing—not any curve or jut of bone—but the fabric also flowed and cooled my skin. I felt revealed and relaxed at once.

Was this dress for me or Princess Bring?

“What if she does not come?” I asked my mirror. Tarnish disappeared from the copper that framed the mirror, and the conservatory’s message was loud and clear.

Do not doubt yourself.

My conservatory also liked King See, so I should not let a building dictate all of my thoughts and actions.

A distant squelching met my rather great ears, and I gazed upon my reflection in wonder. “She is coming! And goodness, my hearing is excellent when I seek to use it. I can pinpoint her whereabouts a block away. But I’ve forgotten what this mirror is about, haven’t I? This is when I should marvel over myself, not let the worries get in. So here, I am true of heart and mind, and a princess has much to enjoy and gain from my company. I should not doubt if she will come. I should doubt why she would not.”

Tarnish returned to the copper framing.

Sometimes buildings were right.

Just not in the matter of King See.

I raced down to the courtyard and approached Mother’s grave. The hellebores rustled at my presence.

“I know,” I replied. “Everything will be fine.”

A hellebore parted ways with its sisters to float to the cobblestones, and I picked the bloom up and pushed the stem behind my ear. “Thank you, Mother.”

The coiled rope by the wall of bars swayed upright as the squelching grew louder. The rope monster heaved and heaved at the gate, and managed to open it just enough to admit Princess Bring. I thought Hex had moved the rope somewhere more comfortable.

I walked forward. “Princess Bring, what a pleasure to see you again. Thank you for coming tonight.”

A black cloak covered her from head to toe, or from top blob to bottom blob. During her last visit, she had told me her reason for covering up. Bring had convinced his princess that her monster was not beautiful. I did not believe he had done so with cruel words or acts, but lack of attention and compliment and positivity had convinced this woman away from loving herself.

Princess Bring executed a small, squelching curtsey. “I was honored and excited to receive your letter, Queen Perantiqua.”

She had used my proper title, and that made her one of the first monsters to do so, and to do so without any strings attached. The last of my doubt left me.

“I am happy to hear it, and I must thank you,” I replied. “During your last visit, you inspired a revelation in me that has revolutionized how I treat myself.”

An embarrassed sliding noise. “But me? Do you jest? I would not have thought to inspire anyone.”

“You must inspire a great many, I beg to disagree, for you have inspired a queen. Will you join me in my conservatory, Princess Bring? A loneliness creeps upon me since queendom that I never felt much in plain monsterdom. Princely friends have become princely pawns, and that leaves somewhat of a void.” Especially now romance has become transactional.

“Loneliness is a f-friend that I cannot be rid of,” she stammered. “I will do what I can to help another escape such a friendship.”

Perhaps we would help each other.

She blinked up the stairs behind me, and when we entered the conservatory, I was grateful to find two chairs and a table set before the eastern view that displayed King Bring’s thatched kingdom on its rocky pedestal.

“Thank you, Mother,” I chimed.

Princess Bring slimed her surprise, spinning on the spot. “Your mother is here? But how wonderful.”

“Not here in this conservatory. She is buried in the courtyard, but she provides for me in death as only a mother can,” I explained.

“Of course. That is a wonder in itself.”

We sat, and I gazed at the princess. I got the sense she gazed right back.

Would we just sit here and gaze at each other all night? I grinned. “There is so much that I wish to ask you that I struggle to begin.”

“I feel you may be a monster who will answer one question and spark my curiosity to ask five more.” She fidgeted and squelched in her seat. This princess was far more nervous than I.

The fabric over her mouth puffed outward as she blurted, “My king does not know I am here. Toil brought me the letter directly, and I snuck out.”

I would have expected the material to stick to her slime over her mouth. How did she manage that?

I considered what she’d said next. “I had not intended for you to feel uncomfortable with my invitation, Princess. I had thought that your king might relish further meetings between us.”

She sighed very prettily. “While one meeting was granted to convince you of the estranged nature of our union, he might reason that further meetings would create friendliness between us that might work against his romantic designs.”

My brow cleared. “That I would not concubine for him out of a sense of friendly loyalty?”

“Just that, Your Majesty.”

“You are familiar with your king’s reason,” I ventured to say.

A wet nod under her cloak. “As any princess should be, and I have more cause than most to uphold princessly duty. My king and I are estranged in body and in heart and in interest, and so we cling to our ancient responsibilities as humans might a jutting rock in a storm.”

I rested back against my chair. “How is it that you are married to your king’s purpose yet snuck away without divulging the contents of my letter?”

She should not be capable of sneaking out.

Quiet threatened to creep through the conservatory, but the princess shook her head quite moistly before quiet could settle. “Queen Perantiqua, now you mention this, I cannot say how sneaking away came to be or was possible. When I read your letter, I felt a great urge to attend you.”

I inhaled then, and in doing so, I caught the sweet reek of obsession. The ancient in me curved her lips, for I had watched other monsters experience similar confusions when it came to me.

I would not share my theories of obsession. “Allow me to say, Princess Bring, that I listen to your true form with rapture. Your movements are like art in every feeling and gesture—a symphony.”

The damp sounds of her shock and embarrassment at my compliment were an experience in their own right.

“Your Majesty. You flatter me, and you the most untouchable fairy stitch monster that ever was. I cannot think how I have climbed to such a platform in your esteem. My sounds are nothing very special. Princes can make them.”

She did not see herself. “A princely pawn could never make your noises. Yours are unique to your delightful monster and they arise so prettily.”

“I… cannot think how to answer.”

“Compliments do not require an answer. Your only effort must be to believe them.”

“Believe them,” she echoed.

I let the quiet in. Space should be given to such challenging moments, and though the state of the princess’s esteem did not inspire deep anger in me as the tattered esteem of Huckery, Unguis, and Loup did, I possessed a strong desire to see that this woman love herself again.

I tapped the breakfast table. “You know. Now I am queen, I would expect that King Bring should be my concubine.”

The princess snorted, then hastily said, “Excuse me! What a horrific noise. I was caught off guard.”

I torsioned a smile. “I have already told you that I enjoy your symphony, princess. Worry not. What do you think your king might do with such a request?”

She relaxed again, then chortled. Wetly. “I can tell you almost certainly, Your Majesty. He would at once desire to accept your offer on the first night, and then he would consider what you meant about it on the second night. Then on the third, he would reflect on whether your offer was intended to save or ruin the world. He would convince himself on the fourth and fifth nights that you meant to save the world because that is what he desires of you. On night six he would plan how to accept your offer elaborately and seductively, and on the seventh night, he would do just that.” Princess Bring cut off with a gasp. “But why would I say such things of my king’s reason? Please do not ever say I did so.”

“I will not. You are safe with me.”

In the workings of my mind, I concluded that Princess Bring displayed vast confidence in her king’s reasoning and rhyme. She had just conveyed these casually and succinctly. She had also snuck out to meet me in certainty that King Bring would otherwise prevent the visit. Even I had not guessed that he would interpret the visit that way.

A princess was a witness to her king’s rhyme and reason, most assuredly.

I asked her, “Will King Bring harm you for sneaking out?”

“My king? He will not harm me. I am his princess, and besides, he is not inclined that way. Mutual indifference strangled our love, nothing more.”

The last barrier in me crumbled. “I am happy for that, for I wish for us to see each other often, but I do not wish for your king to rage over your subterfuge or disobedience.”

“Once I wished that my king would rage for me,” she mused in a soggy way. “That was centuries ago. I would like to see you often, too, and I wish that despite knowing that my king will not. And how can that be? I cannot fathom it.”

Yes, well, I had concluded one thing and formed a theory of another.

I stood and slowly paced. Once across the room, I faced her to find she was turned and tracking my movements. “Princess, I recently became a queen. This was a great surprise.”

“One needs only to look at you to understand you are meant to soar above us.”

Her words warmed me. “Along with this queendom surprise came many complexities and dangers. King Change gathers his fifth against me, whispering to humans warped by his beastly magic that riches await them at Hotel Vitale. In short, I flounder, and kings are not forthcoming with teaching me how to go about war.”

“King See does not tutor you?” she asked in great surprise. “He has gone to war for you, and that is an immortal declaration of intention. I had celebrated your ascent to queendom, feeling that you could count on his alliance and experience to guide you.”

“That was a certainty of mine too,” I admitted. “One of the only certainties, but queendom has changed matters between us.”

King See had not responded to my last letter, and so did he intend to tutor me in war by the week’s end?

I had not let many monsters see my sadness over the development with See, but I did feel weary with the emotion. There was a loss and fear and grief to feel with the alterations to my romantic wishes and dreams.

The princess squelched across thyme. “Your sorrow and disappointment are salt in wounds. I wish that queendom had not injured your romance. Clouds hang over the moon and obstruct my view, though brightness shines around them to let me know she is still there.”

I lifted a shoulder. “I am here still. Unexpected though this has been, I must go on as best I can. He will know this new version of himself better soon, and then we can see what might be shared and how. But I cannot wait for a king to teach me war, and I cannot depend on other kings to do so either. If no other opportunities arise to learn war, then I confess a great worry over what a king might demand in payment for his expertise.”

“My king, for example?” she asked.

I nodded. “Your king, yes. He would be my second kingly option for tutorage, yet I do not feel for him what I do for See. Perhaps I am still young in that my heart tangles in the matters of my body.”

Princess Bring slimed closer. “Your Majesty, I feel the truth of what you say, and so you must never say such a thing to my liege. He is too far gone in obsession of you, and he will convince himself to hate you if hope of romance is stolen.”

She’d warned me before, and I regretted not shutting down Bring’s lust during our first meeting. Yet his hope of our romance might delay any war between us for a while longer, and I was thankful for that. “Thank you for the warning.”

The princess started up a slippery pace, and her slime clung readily to thyme. “What will you do to learn war? I would not see you stolen of dignity when begging a king for help. I would not see you without help as a queen.” She stopped, then faced me. “Do you suppose that I might be some help in the matter of war? I have watched any number of them, you know. I possess many insights that might stir your ancient sense of battle. Goodness!” She broke off with a gasp.

Goodness indeed.

“I-I…” She slimed back to the chair and sludged to sitting. “I cannot say what invoked such?—”

“Stirrings of purpose?” I said in undertones. For I had formed a theory not long ago.

Her breaths came fast. “Stirrings indeed. Queen Perantiqua, I have not felt purpose since marrying my king. I am married to his, and so how can I have my own? I am a princess. This is strongly surprising and confusing.”

She did not own the same lens as I.

I, who had seen princes act against kings’ orders when it came to me, only for them to then become my pawns.

And now a princess did the same. She’d felt the stirrings of purpose. A purpose separate to that of her king. One that was entirely her own.

I cast aside thoughts of my obsession and a stronger queendom for now. “Princess Bring, your recital of past wars would be welcome indeed. Very welcome to a new queen. Will you sit with me now?”

“I would like nothing better?”

“Are you certain? Your reply was somewhat of a question too.”

She cleared her throat, and I was gifted the image of a river of thick phlegm. “I would. I would. Yet there is that within me that knows I should not. There are two purposes in me, and a monster’s mind feels very full to bursting. What is a princess to do?”

Beyond her, my mirror glimmered, and I knew how to answer. “A princess should be kind to herself.”

I felt her gaze.

I would like to be friends with this princess, and as her friend, I wished to tell her that worrying over her stirring of purpose was a futile endeavor. Princes disobeyed kings’ orders in my presence. A princess would do the same, and it was best not to worry about certainties.

Such worry I had felt since King See mentioned the learning of war, but this queen did not need a king to learn war at all because new obsession was taking shape in the form of princesses.

If certainties should not be worried over, then I should not worry about obsession because I was as powerless against it as a pawn against my will.

I sat opposite Princess Bring again. “Your king and King See recently warred with King Change, Princess. What can you tell me of how Change went about such a battle?”