Chapter 25--The Gift of Love?

On one side of the royal dining table was a sprawling feast of turkey legs, mashed potatoes, baked potatoes, Cornish hens, beef stew and a cheese platter so grand it was sure to be the source of some flatulence.

The royals, Gianni, and Fairy Godmother were busy devouring the delights in their own special ways; the queen took tiny measured bites, the prince ate a turkey leg with ravenous hunger, and King Gastronso did exactly what he did best, which was store up food in his belly for the next five winters. Gianni was too busy reviewing his notes to take a single bite, while Fairy Godmother drank her dinner from a goblet of wine.

The other side of the table contained seven identical plates, and each contained identical cubed vegetables and a boiled piece of chicken. It was too depressing to look at let alone eat, so Myrielle focused her gaze on the massive silver tray of turkey legs piled high. There were so many juicy extra pieces on that tray, and she didn't understand why she couldn't have just one.

The prince gestured to the other side of the table. "How are you all finding your dinner?" Instead of waiting for a response he shoveled a scoop of mashed potatoes down his gullet. He normally wouldn't consume so much food during a typical royal feast, but sitting across from a potential peasant wife was making him an emotional eater.

The girls said "mmm!' in unison, before carefully eating their vegetables one cube at a time. Most of the girls had never even used proper cutlery before, which made them a little nervous when the queen's hawk eyes watched their every move.

"I'm glad you're enjoying the food," she said, "because when one of you becomes a princess...portion control will be key."

"But what if we've been outside all day chasing butterflies?" said Josselyn, her patented dumb-eyed look on full display. "It's so much fun but it's also tiring to chase all them creatures; and then I get so hungry after!"

The queen thought long and hard about pretending not to see or hear Josselyn, but when she noticed the other girls' questioning eyes, she knew she had to set them straight.

"Being a princess is a great responsibility," she said, making no effort to hide her annoyance. "A responsibility that includes frequent public appearances where your waistline must be tight and trim. At least until the children come..."

"Children?" said Josselyn, looking more confused than ever. She wasn't alone in her dumb-eyed look, as all the other girls had it too. They'd been so focused on winning a contest for the chance to marry a prince, that they hadn't gone beyond the imagery of victory parades and confetti. Myrielle seemed the most affected out of everyone. Children? With that soulless husk of a man? And would the children turn out to be like him? An army of little rug-rats obsessed with their hair?

As a future rich in coin and disturbia flashed before her eyes, Fredrick arrived with a fresh jug of water to top off everyone's goblets. As she watched him complete his task with his usual measured precision, she felt an immediate and intense longing. She'd first felt the longing at the start of the evening, when he'd avoided paying her a compliment or even looking into her eyes. Was he playing hard to get or was the game already over? And how could she even be playing this game when she was busy with the biggest game of all? The one that would help her re-build the kingdom and change her family's life for the better? She knew she had no choice but to remain an exclusive player, but the strong temptation was becoming near impossible to ignore.

Once he was finished pouring the water he remained in the dining hall, positioning himself a few feet behind the royals' side of the table. Myrielle tried and failed to catch his eye, so she returned her gaze to the platter of turkey legs. She remembered the last time she'd had a turkey leg, shamelessly eating it in front of the servant who'd decided not to capture her. He'd really done that, she thought. He'd saved her and he'd let her binge-eat too. She sighed.

Myrielle didn't know it, but Fredrick had been discreetly watching her from the moment he took his spot behind the royals. He watched intently as she gazed at the meat, smiled reflectively and sighed. It made him think back to the first day they'd met, when she'd captured his attention like no one else before her. From that single encounter he'd seen how passionate and determined she was, so when he saw her gazing at the turkey legs while avoiding her plate full of food cubes, he knew it didn't seem quite right.

He was starting to have that inkling again, that feeling where the chance to be a dashing leading man was within reach; the only problem was he didn't know how to play the role.

But did it even matter? The logical side of him wondered. She was only even here for a prince. Logical-Fredrick was right, but Emotional-Fredrick wasn't far behind in turning things topsy-turvy. Emotional-Fredrick reminded him of their magical connection, and how if he didn't pursue it now, he would regret it forever. Emotional-Fredrick was clearly the winner in this brief debate, and a few seconds later, Complete-Fredrick had already figured out a plan.

He began by approaching Myrielle with a purpose. "You don't look well," he whispered.

She frowned. "It's one thing to refuse to compliment me, but insulting my appearance?" She turned away. "Rude."

"What's going on over there?" said the king, busy spreading a thick layer of butter on his turkey leg.

"It's this contestant," said Fredrick, as if he suddenly didn't know her name. "Her complexion is taking on a faint greenish glow, and it should really be addressed at once."

The prince nodded in understanding. "It happens sometimes with father too; typically when he can't decide which pie to eat, and then proceeds to devour all twenty."

The king's smile was smug. "More is more, after all."

The prince shooed Fredrick away. "Go fetch her some sort of treatment before it worsens; the last thing we need is a disgusting scene at the table."

Myrielle didn't understand why everyone seemed to think she had early-onset plague. "But I truly feel just fine!"

"I think it's best if she accompanies me to the apothecary," he said. "Otherwise...by the time I return...the diarrhea may have already begun."

Myrielle scrunched her nose. "Diarrhea?!" She was equal parts confused and embarrassed, but there wasn't any time to defend herself as Fredrick was already pulling her out of her chair.

He escorted her out of the hall and as soon as they were out in the corridor they spotted Bella; she was sitting at a small table all by herself, picking at her food and looking miserable. She glanced towards the doors and noticed the two of them together; it immediately made her suspicious.

"She isn't feeling well," said Fredrick, before quickly leading Myrielle away.

As soon as Bella was out of earshot Myrielle forced Fredrick to stop. "What's going on here? I need to get back to dinner or they won't get to see my table manners." Fredrick stopped himself from saying what he was thinking. "What?" she urged.

"It's just...do you really want them to see another example of your table manners?" He cracked a smile. "After you ate an entire pie with your hands?"

She punched him in the chest and he winced. "That was a trick challenge and you know it."

He put his hands up in surrender. "Okay you're right! And to be honest I was actually quite impressed by the whole thing."

She held back a smile. "So what am I doing out here anyway?"

He took her hand. "You're coming with me."

"But why?" she said as they hurried along.

"Just trust me and it'll all be worth it."

They hustled around corridors, down winding staircases, and finally ended up in the kitchen.

"So the apothecary thing was a lie then..." she said, as they made their way past a dozen line cooks going through the meal-prep motions.

"A lie that will be worth it if you wait another minute."

He took her past the butchers and steaming hot ovens, and led her to a storage space where shelves on either side were packed with produce.

She looked around in wonder. "So this is where all the food is." She thought about the market in the village square, with its dwindling supply of bruised vegetables. Knowing how much was missing out there and what was so abundant in here made her furious. She pocketed the fury for a later time, like after she was crowned princess and could use her influence to send half this food to the village.

"Can you tell me why I'm here now?" she said. She was beginning to grow impatient as the contest obligations creeped back into her mind.

"I'll tell you if you close your eyes," he said playfully.

She couldn't help but smile at his teasing tone, as it was such a far cry from anything she'd experienced with the prince. She decided that a little distraction might be good for the soul. "Are you saying you have a surprise for me?"

"Close your eyes," he said more firmly.

She liked his take-charge attitude even more than the playful tone so she obeyed. "When can I see my surprise?"

He disappeared for a moment and returned holding something behind his back. "First let me say, that I noticed you didn't seem inspired by your dinner."

She quietly gasped. "This couldn't be what I think it is...could it?"

"And," he went on, "I had a feeling this little token might reawaken your passion." She was already smiling. "Alright then, go ahead and look."

She opened her eyes, and right there in front of her was the man of her dreams, offering her the food of her dreams on a silver platter.

The turkey-leg prince...

[WRITER COMMENTARY: okay I admit it, I don't write romantic scenes in a typical way, but hey, this isn't a 'typical' fairytale ;-). More to come soon!!]