Cindy and Ella (The Fairy Tale Twins)

Chapter 16: Ella

For a long moment, nobody speaks. The hush on the crowd is so profound, I hear the whinny of horses outside the enclosure walls. Every face is trained on the prince, blank with shock. I can't even define what I'm feeling.

Fiona's voice reaches my ear from behind. "Isn't that... Percy?" We hear similar whispers from various Percelers in the crowd. As someone who works on Queen's Walk, he is pretty well-known.

The king chuckles. "Surprised? Many of you already know my son. That is how I wanted it. Or rather, how I wanted him to know all of you." He smiles, creasing his eyes and cheeks. He looks like Percy, only older and bearded. The beard has gone gray, but not his hair. He coughs into his sleeve and apologizes before continuing. "A king cannot serve his people if he doesn't know them. He cannot understand their troubles if he hasn't lived them. That's why I had my son live and work among the people. It was necessary to keep his identity a secret—if everyone knew he was the prince, they would treat him differently. I wanted him to grow up no different from anyone else, to know the struggle of the common man. I think that will make him the best king he can be."

Some rustling. Some murmurs. I don't think everyone is thrilled with this revelation, that the prince is our local breadstick seller. I check the faces of Percel women. Oh... they are not happy. Especially the Beatrix type. They want a princey prince with all the pomp and glory. They don't want a man of the people.

That said, Percy certainly looks princey enough. He's wearing a suit of dark Percel purple, with gold cording running down the outside of each leg, along the edges of his coat, which is closed by a straight column of gold buttons. No frills or excess, just modest elegance. A simple crown, thin and lightweight, rests atop his black hair, just enough to complement the gold trimming of his suit, and his sideburns have been sharpened to perfection. The tips of shiny black boots poke out from beneath his pants.

The queen now speaks, explaining how the prince's time was divided, spending most of his days among the people, but Sundays at the palace. He attended school with Percel children, went home at night to a stand-in family. All to make him appear as normal as possible. I learn he grew up in Castle Shade, like Kellan, which explains why Cindy and I never met him until he came to work on Queen's Walk. He's been working at Percel Bakery for several years. For us Percelers, this is all interesting news, but I suspect the girls from the lesser realms are getting bored. They don't care how the prince grew up, they're just ecstatic he turned out to be young and handsome.

The queen finishes with the part we all know: the prince has reached a marriageable age and must choose a bride before he claims the throne. Percy finally steps forward. His smile is apologetic.

"I'm sure many of you have questions," he says. "Which I'm happy to answer. But let's do it while dancing, shall we?"

The girls from the Younger Sons laugh at this. But not everyone is amused. As the music starts, I actually spot Beatrix in the crowd. Her face is cold and pinched, matching the look of many Percelers. I think they're hoping the king will suddenly say he was joking, and bring out the real prince from behind the fountain. But no one comes.

I'm not disappointed. Just very confused. So as the music—light and happy and flowing—reaches our ears and girls rush onto the dance floor, I hold back, like a tree dividing the current of a river. I don't think he saw me. Feeling almost lightheaded, I turn around, heading back for the bench where I was sitting. Need a few minutes to sort out my thoughts.

"Have you deemed me worthy, Lady Alonda?"

I turn around. It's Percy, embarrassed, offering his hand. "First dance?"

He did ask me last night. I cover my confusion with a smile and take his hand. "Forgive me... this was so unexpected."

"I realize that." He leads me back to the dance floor and the girls step back to make space for us. I can already see the hot envy on their faces that I secured the first dance. His free hand takes hold of my wrist and we begin, slowly at first, to move with the music. At first, I wonder where it's coming from, until I see the gazebo at one corner of the square, housing a group of string musicians. They play very well. I think some even work in the orchestra at my theater.