A princess story part two

Author's note: This is the second part of a two part story. As with the first part, it is sort of a generic crummy romance. If you stomached the first part and wish to read this one, I thank you for your generosity, otherwise, you won't hurt my feelings too much by skipping this one. Something more fun tomorrow!

Over the next couple of months, Bekki slipped out often to meet with Troven. She often found him working in the same garden. He was always trimming the grass, scrubbing scum off of the rocks in the fountain, picking over ripe fruit, or washing the path. Some nights, he went to other gardens, but Bekki learned where to find him. She made up a person for Mewda to be, a cook's daughter who often cut vegetables for stews for the guards.

One day, she was surprised by an invitation to the north of the kingdom for a dragon spotting expedition. She was away two weeks, and had not seen a dragon when she came back. Troven was interested in knowing what had happened, and Bekki made up a story about caring for her mother who became sick rapidly, then died. She even cried a little.

One night, almost a year later, Bekki went down to the garden to talk to Troven and found him, not working, but standing in the full moonlight, dressed more nicely than usual, but still shabby by court standards, and was holding a white and yellow flower.

"I have the night off," he said, "and I wondered if you would like to take a walk with me."

Bekki stared at the flower.

"I brought you this daisy. My mother grows them large and beautiful, like this one."

"May I hold it?"

"Of course."

Bekki took the flower and looked at it's peculiar rounded yellow face surrounded by fat, tear shaped petals.

"It's beautiful."

"Do you want to go for a walk?"

"Where do these grow?"

"Haven't you seen a daisy?"

"No, I've always lived in the palace, I guess they don't have them here."'

At this moment, Mewda broke into Tiko's narrative.

'Tiko, stick with fairy tales, you old bat. You don't know anything about romance!'

'Crazy old woman' continued Tiko. 'She just doesn't want her past brought out like this. Anyway, Troven asked,

"Do you want to see more?"

He led Bekki between the bushes that he usually walked through and out into a hidden, narrow passageway. They walked out through a small gate where a fat guard was snoring on a stool. Troven took Bekki through a town she had only seen from carriage windows, and out into a field. In the light of the moons, the field seemed to be made of silver. The grasses swayed about knee deep, and all through the field were pale daises and orange poppies, folded up for the night. Bekki and Troven looked for a long time at the field, and walked around in it. Before she realized it, the sun was rising.

"I must get back to the palace," Bekki said, "They will miss me."

"Mewda, do you want to go back to the castle?"

"What do you mean?"

"Mewda, I have saved a lot of money, and I mean to open an inn somewhere to the east. There is a village there which is a way point for travelers, but has no inn. I would like you to come with me."

Bekki thought about it. She loved Troven, she knew, but she didn't want to give up her life in the palace. She realized, suddenly that she really didn't like it. She didn't want to wait for a prince to come and marry her, or for her father the king to find some duke to marry her to. She didn't really enjoy sulking anymore, and watching people dance had gotten kind of boring. A village in the east sounded like a pleasant trade.

"Mewda," Troven pressed, "will you marry me?"

Bekki had decided. "Yes, I will."

As they traveled east in a coach, Bekki finally was Mewda. She was married to Troven in a small chapel in one of the towns they stopped in. They continued to travel until they reached this village.

While this was happening, there was a riot in the capitol. A princess had gone missing. No one knew where she had gone. I made note of the day, it was a chance in a million for a storyteller like me. I traveled around, and when I came to this village, when I could still see, I saw the face of a princess in the face of the innkeeper's wife. I called out "Bekki!" and she jumped, but paid no more attention to me afterward than if I was a footprint in the mud.'

'Tiko, you old brigand, you know that I was born and raised in this village!' Mewda yelled from her house.

'Listen to that one, kids, that's the voice of a princess.'