Chapter 11--Far From Home

Twelve curious girls in a special transport made their way up the curving hill towards the castle. They were making the journey in a rickety wagon pulled along by anorexic-looking horses. It would hardly be considered the royal treatment, but the dirty peasant girls were a far cry from being princess candidates worthy of a carriage.

The wagon made its last unsteady turn towards the castle gate, and as the barrier slowly opened, the scene was unlike anything the girls had ever experienced.

The broad stone walkways were accented by fruit trees, rosebushes, too many fountains to count, and a multitude of semi-naked sculptures. It was excess upon excess and frankly a bit tacky, but for a king who was a terrible binge-eater and a queen who loved to drape herself in gold, the flashy decor symbolized the royals to a tee.

Most of the girls were struck by their fancy surroundings, but Myrielle could only focus on the mental math of what it would've cost to have these sculptures commissioned, and the irrigation required to keep every fountain flowing. It all just seemed so wasteful, especially when the peasants relied on water from a single well. It was times like these that Myrielle almost wished she hadn't studied mathematics or kingdom planning, as it was evident from the other girls' gaping smiles that ignorance was bliss.

The golden doors of the main castle entrance were close enough to see in detail now, and the bombshell Bella had one foot out the wagon to make sure she'd get there first.

But the wagon rolled on.

Past the golden doors...past the sprawling castle façade...and even past the far less glamorous residence of the noblemen. These anorexic horses had something else in mind, as the wagon rolled along towards the dark and looming tower up the hill...

***

Inside the castle--in the prince's lavatory equipped with the finest medieval plumbing of the time--Fredrick and the prince were busy with his crucial weekly hair treatment. The prince sat comfortably with his head tipped backwards into a marble washbasin, happily ogling his erotic drawings while Fredrick rinsed the castor oil out of his hair. Fredrick seemed to struggle with the filmy layer of oil, so he did what any hair-treatment person would do; he scrubbed harder.

"Too rough!" cried the prince, cringing in pain like the little baby boy bitch that he was.

Fredrick rolled his eyes safely out of the prince's view. "If I don't rinse it all your hair won't achieve the desired bouncy softness, and can a royal bachelor really afford to have greasy hair?"

"Hush now!" the prince said worriedly. "Let's not even joke about such things."

Once the rinsing was done, Fredrick towel-dried the prince's hair, eager to get going for his one personal break of the day. His break would only last a total of twenty minutes, but he cherished every minute of his precious alone time.

"If that's everything then..." said Fredrick, inching towards the door.

"Yes Fredrick, that will be all."

Fredrick scurried through the prince's chamber and was practically out in the hall when he heard the most annoying words a servant can ever hear:

"One more thing!" cried the prince.

Fredrick glared and clenched his teeth before returning to his regular 'servant face' and rushing back into the chamber.

"Your highness?" he said, smiling through intense annoyance. "How can I be of service?"

The prince went over to his desk to retrieve a scroll. He opened it for the first time and scanned it quickly. "Well...it appears I should've handed you this sooner."

"What is it?" said Fredrick nervously, wondering if one of the younger servants had pushed him out of a job.

"Just instructions," said the prince. "Everything pertaining to this ridiculous princess contest."

"And it's for me?" said Fredrick.

"Well according to this you are the chief point of contact." He handed Fredrick the scroll.

Fredrick reviewed the document with increasing worry. "But phase one already started...an hour ago! I should be at the tower right now!"

The prince shrugged. "Gianni handed me the scroll but he never said it was urgent."

Fredrick was in no way surprised that Gianni was making him looking bad, since his revulsion for anyone at the 'servant level' had been made clear at the academy. He would deal with his nemesis later, but in the meantime he was late for his first important task, and yet another opportunity to see Myrielle...

***

Inside a damp and poorly lit tower, twelve teenage girls stared curiously at twelve cots.

"So we'll be living here then?" said Bella, already the leader of the pack. "Together?"

None of them had been informed of the contest details or any details at all; they'd simply been let into the tower by a confused young handmaid.

"What about clothes?" said one of the girls.

"What about food?" said another. "Are we meant to be trapped here until we die one by one?" She glared. "If one of you tries to eat my flesh I'll eat yours first!"

The rest of the girls were suddenly uncomfortable, none of them wanting to sleep beside the resident zombie.

Myrielle distracted herself by gazing out of one of the few small windows, a rare source of light in the darkened tower. "And what about seeing our families?" she said. When she'd hugged her mother goodbye she'd been too full of adrenaline to realize that she'd miss her, and even though she'd assumed she wouldn't see her until this was over, how long would that even be? And how would her father do without her? And would Thomas and Emilia stay out of trouble?

The other girls stared at Myrielle for a moment, and then burst into laughter in perfect sync.

"Someone needs her mommy! Someone needs her mommy!"

It seemed that without any practice, 'mean girls' were skilled at pouring on the ridicule in sync.

As the chant washed over Myrielle she studied them in amazement. The female bond was foreign to her, as she'd always been so focused on her schooling that she'd never really made any friends. She'd considered herself to be above all that anyway, with no time for dolls or practicing kissing or whatever other dumb activities normal girls seemed to do. At the time it had all seemed so wise, but now it would prove to be her first disadvantage.

As the mean girls shifted their focus to the ugliness of Myrielle's dress, the tower door swung open and the chatter came to a stop.

Fredrick made his way inside, now surrounded by an army of girls.

Myrielle studied him as he stood at the center of the room. She had only just seen him two hours earlier, but was convinced he had somehow changed. Was he taller? Manlier? Or maybe it was just that on this second occasion, he wasn't accusing her of treason.

"Good evening ladies!" he said smiling. He was trying a bit too hard to sound dashing, but none of the other girls seemed to notice since they were only after the prince. For Myrielle it was a little different, i.e. fifty percent 'after the prince' and fifty percent 'noticing that he sounded a little dashing.'

Bella emerged from the grouping of girls, still high on her brief sexy moment with the prince. "Are you taking us to see him now?" It seemed she didn't even need to mention him by name, since they were already so close that the contest was a foregone conclusion. The other girls watched her and glared.

Fredrick shook his head. "No prince tonight I'm afraid. In fact you'll only be seeing him during designated points throughout the contest."

Bella sprawled out on the nearest bed. "Then why are you even here?"

Fredrick struggled to overcome her sub-par enthusiasm. "Listen I uhh...know it's been an eventful day and you all must be exhausted, but before the contest actually begins...the kingdom would love to share all the details!" He pulled out a scroll and smiled. "Are you ready?"

He was met with blank stares until Myrielle smiled back. "Ready."

Fredrick was relieved with her singular support and it gave him the confidence to handle the female crowd. He extended the scroll and started reading. "From this point on you are competing to marry the prince."

A few of the girls "wooed" and high-fived.

"This officially means there is no room for allies, as each of you will be pitted against the others." He noticed their darkened faces so he smiled in reassurance. "It may sound like a fight to the death, but I assure you it's far less gory."

The girls who had just high-fived were now locked in a vicious death-stare.

"The quest to become a princess will take on many forms, including competitive feats that will begin tomorrow morning."

"What feats?" said Bella. "Isn't it just the fairest one of them all?" She batted her lashes and swung her hips in his direction, but he managed to maintain his composure.

"While beauty does come into play," he said calmly, "there's more to marrying the prince than just your looks." He could barely believe what he was saying, considering that the prince was such a milkmaid-obsessed pig. Still though, the way he'd seen Gianni and Fairy Godmother whispering? He knew there was some other mysterious element to this contest.

Myrielle glanced at her reflection in the tower's lone mirror. If it wasn't just about looks...maybe she had a chance after all.

"The handmaids will assist you with your living arrangements, the delousing, and all such related matters," he said. "As for me I'll return tomorrow morning at seven a.m., to collect you for the very first feat!"

As he turned to leave, Myrielle caught his eye and gave him a desperate look.

He hurried over. "Do you need something?" he said, suddenly at her mercy.

"It's the dress," she whispered. "To be frank...it smells dreadful from the earlier...food leakage...and I'm worried that when the handmaid takes it she'll be suspicious."

He nodded in understanding. "I know the network of servants and handmaids inside out, so believe me I know which ones to trust." He smiled. "Consider it handled." He leaned towards her and took a sniff. "And you're right...it does smell rather dreadful."

They laughed like new friends, or new crushes--or in Myrielle's eyes--new allies. Whatever it was, Bella stood watching from the corner of her bed, determined not to let this possible collusion or anything else stand in her way...

[WRITER COMMENTARY: My favourite part about this chapter was taking the time to get to know Fredrick a little more, because let's face it, how often do servants get to play a central role? Or when they do, doesn't it feel like the lowly position usually belongs to the female? Well I wanted to turn that around a bit, so there's plenty of 'girl power' in this unconventional fairytale--> and 'boy power' too when it makes sense, it's equal opportunity power! ;-) Thanks for reading!]