By Susan Lyttek
The official communication mirror flickered into life as I sat in the throne room reviewing correspondence with Prince Corduroy. I may be a princess, but I was also his employee.
“Corduroy,” boomed the Magic Administrator. The most powerful man in Afteria, he always spoke in bellows. “Your latest petition has caught our attention.”
The prince faced the mirror head on. “I imagine so, Administrator.” He smiled.
I tried not to stare at Corduroy, but it was hard, especially since my fairy godmother—my best friend, Amelia—said he was my romantic match. He wore his human form, as it was after sunset. Wavy black hair, ice-blue eyes, perfect proportions—in other words, he looked every bit the charming prince. “I received signatures from over half the kingdoms. The gifting process has to change.”
“Who do you think you are?” roared the Administrator. “Our gifting process made you a prince.”
Corduroy’s grin persisted. “Yes, and you turned me halfway into a bear when I didn’t marry the princess you chose for me.”
Hmm, I didn’t know that.
“And that’s the point,” Corduroy continued. “Your troop in the ivory tower chooses who will be what as soon as we finish school. You never even think about our interests or strengths.” He pointed to me. “If you had, Trudy would be a lawyer instead of a princess. No one can argue like she does. And in college, I would’ve explored my options. Maybe I could have been a research scientist or gone into politics. But Trudy and I will never know because you didn’t give us a choice.”
If arguing was all Corduroy noticed about me, I needed to watch my tongue.
The Administrator growled. It sounded more ferocious than any noise the prince made in his bear form. “We will discuss your petition tomorrow. Expect the committee and me for lunch.” He turned my direction. “Your little princess is not allowed. Committee member Jones is still bruised from his encounter with her.”
I did regret tackling Jones. But he was the one who told me they made me a princess.
The mirror went black.
“Does the committee know I’m your taster?”
Corduroy shrugged. “I never told anyone. But then, I did stop advertising for the position.”
I glanced at the mirror. “I don’t trust them. They could very well be coming to kill you.”
He walked over and sat on the edge of my desk. “I thought of that. As much as I trust my staff, there are few who could withstand the pressure the committee exerts.”
“Then we have to figure out a way I can still taste.”
He shook his head, black curls caressing the sides of his face.
“Maybe Amelia could make me invisible?” I twisted my hands together, imagining the Administrator’s neck between them.
Corduroy reached over and stilled my hands. “I appreciate that, but they’d know if you were in the room.”
“Taste and smell are intimately entwined, or so I’m told. Maybe I can smell a threat with enough practice?”
“Great idea!” Amelia flew headfirst through the doorway, and Corduroy scooted away from me like I had a disease. “I can cast an air movement spell. The summer’s been hot enough. They’ll notice, but every castle uses them. We just have to train Trudy to sniff the poisons—taste them with her nose.”
I prayed it would work. I wasn’t ready for my only match to perish.
While Amelia set the spell, I stationed myself in the antechamber behind the throne.
As before, when I’d applied to be his taster, the prince asked the kitchen to wheel out a variety of items—poisoned and not. Amelia directed the airflow across the cart and, at least partly, in my direction.
“I smell hemlock, wolf’s bane, and arsenic,” I called out.
“From where?”
I opened my mouth and sucked the fragrant air over my teeth. “I don’t know! I just smell those poisons.”
My best friend flew over. “Is the breeze working?”
My fist clenched. “Obviously.”
“Calm down, Trudy. I needed to know if I should modify the spell.”
“No.” I flattened my hand and smoothed my skirt. “This won’t work. The Administrator will figure out what I’m doing, know we don’t trust them, and then none of the committee will listen. But I just can’t tell where the poisons are from this far away.”
The prince stepped in behind Amelia. “What if we limited the food to more aromatic options?”
“Yes!” Amelia fluttered her wings and accidentally bounced against the wall. “If you know what food you’re smelling, you can pinpoint where the poison is.”
We practiced all night. By the time the prince turned back into a bear, I was exhausted, but if anyone tried to kill Corduroy, I’d catch them.
The banquet table was set by 11:30 a.m. In addition to the Administrator, we were expecting twenty members of the Magic Committee. Enough for an ambush.
They arrived. I heard the shuffling of chairs across the stone floor. As the room quieted, the aromas of food wafted over to my hiding place. But that acrid scent…
I burst out of my alcove. “Mr. Administrator!”
He paused with his spoon halfway to his mouth. “I forbade you from coming while we discussed matters with the prince.”
I ran to his side and knocked his tureen of onion soup onto the floor. “Perhaps, sir, but that soup was poisoned with dragon’s bane.”
After a brief but fruitless investigation, the administrator settled into amiable and almost friendly discussion with us. “Princess Trudy, perhaps your employer would loan your services to the committee?”
I glanced at Corduroy. He nodded.
“I’m willing.”
“Good. This poison spree needs to end.” He turned to the prince and shook Corduroy’s paw. “For the rest, you know things can’t change overnight.”
“Yes, sir. But at least you’re listening.”
I sighed contentedly. I still had both a job and a prince.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
That was cute! And I was so excited to see a follow-up story to the tasting one! Yay!
Thanks! Glad you liked it! I have a feeling Princess Trudy will keep showing up for a while.
Aw, fun! I love how she can smell poisons! And the Corduroy thing of course made me think of the children’s book :)
Thanks! And of course a part-bear prince needed a name like Corduroy!
Aww! I hadn’t made the name connection yet! Now I’m getting happy childhood nostaliga feels.
Glad I could take you into childhood nostalgia!