KING THOROUGHGOOD was in a bad mood. The christening breakfast was to take place in the royal banqueting hall, and he had spent the day storming up and down it, shouting at the various trolls, maids, dwarves, pageboys and gnomes who were putting up tables, arranging flowers, polishing plates and sorting knives, forks and spoons. The magnificent cake was in position; the prime minister, who was scuttling behind the king trying to keep up with his master’s instructions, attempted to lighten the atmosphere.
“The cake’s very fine, Your Majesty. Very fine indeed. A most excellent choice!”
The king’s brow darkened. “It’s too small. It should be bigger! Much bigger.”
“Yes! Yes of course, Your Majesty. Should I order another one?” The prime minister bowed very low, keeping his fingers crossed. At this late stage another cake would be impossible. Fortunately a gnome carrying a large vase of multicoloured flowers scurried past, and the cake was immediately forgotten.
“Blue and white!” the king roared. “Blue and white! Does nobody ever listen to me? I said no reds or yellows or pinks or purples! The decoration is to be blue and white, and ONLY blue and white!” He snatched at a pink rose, threw it on the floor and stamped on it. The gnome was so surprised that he dropped the vase, and it was at this unfortunate moment that Princess Peony came flying through the door.
“Father!” she called. “Father! I have to talk to you – it’s really, really, REALLY important!”
It took King Thoroughgood a long moment to recognise his tangle-haired and breathless daughter. An argument with the thorniest of the roses had left her arms scratched and her dress torn. “Peony! How dare you come rushing in looking like … like a PEASANT!”
“Oh, never mind what I look like!” Peony seized her father’s arm. “Father, you’ve made a terrible mistake and it’s all my fault!”
“A mistake?” The king’s frown grew darker. He was not a man who made mistakes.
“The librarian! It was ages and ages ago, but I’ve only just found out about it. You had him thrown into a dungeon and he was only trying to help! Please, Father – PLEASE let him out!”
Even a king has difficult days, and this had been an especially difficult day for King Thoroughgood. Everything had gone wrong that could possibly go wrong – and now Princess Peony was demanding something that was not just ridiculous, but positively treasonable.
“Absolutely not!” the king thundered. “Absolutely NOT!” He swung round to the prime minister. “Skeldith! Lock my daughter in her room!”
“If you try, Mr Skeldith, I’ll … I’ll BITE YOU!” Peony’s glare was even more threatening than her father’s, and Skeldith backed hastily away. “Father, you’ve got to listen to me!”
Her father was purple with rage. He was the king. He was His Royal Highness King Thoroughgood – and he was being defied in public by a girl in a torn and dirty dress. He knew the servants were winking at each other, sniggering, laughing at him… It was too much.
“Guards!” Two substantial trolls came running. “Guards, take the princess away and put her in the dungeon – the dungeon for Those Who Speak Out Of Turn.” The king scowled at his daughter. “Perhaps THAT will teach you to mind your manners!”
As the guards carried Peony away, she called, “I’ll be looking for Mr Longbeard, Father! It wasn’t his fault! I’ll tell him you’ll let him out very soon!”
Queen Dilys, woken from her nap by an agitated Miss Beef, had hardly heard the news of Peony’s escape before King Thoroughgood appeared in the doorway. “That girl is out of control,” he raged. “Do you hear, Dilys? Out of control!” Seeing Miss Beef, he turned a darker shade of purple. “And what do you have to say for yourself, woman? My daughter is running riot, and you’re nowhere to be seen!”
“I don’t think you need worry, dear,” the queen said in her most soothing tone. She can’t have gone far—”
“She went TOO far! She came running into the banqueting hall and accused me – ME! – of making a mistake! In front of all the servants! I won’t have it, I tell you!” The king was pacing up and down. “She needs to be taught a lesson!”
Miss Beef, eager to account for herself, nodded enthusiastically. “That’s why I locked her in her room, Your Majesty—”
“And much good that did,” the king snapped. For a brief moment it occurred to him that Peony had shown remarkable ingenuity in escaping, but he crushed the thought. “Useless! Totally useless. But I’ve dealt with it. A strong hand, that’s what’s needed… I’ve had her thrown in the dungeons.”
“The dungeons?” Queen Dilys looked startled. “My dear – she’s our daughter! A princess!”
“Then she must learn to behave like one. And if those who are paid to control her can’t do it, then I will!” King Thoroughgood gave Miss Beef a final glare and strode away.
“This is all most unfortunate.” The queen fanned herself with her handkerchief. “It’s the christening tomorrow morning! Will he allow Peony out in time, do you think? Goodness! What will people say if she’s not there?”
Miss Beef was seething with righteous anger. “I don’t wish to criticise, Your Majesty, but I’ve never, in all my years as a governess, met such a wild, self-willed girl. I’ve done my best, Your Majesty – but I do not expect to be blamed for such totally impossible behaviour!”
Queen Dilys looked vague. “I’m sure you’re right, Miss Beef. Now, if you could just go and see that the girls’ dresses have arrived safely? I absolutely MUST close my eyes, or I’ll be a complete wreck tomorrow…” And she waved the fuming Miss Beef out of the room before sinking back on her bed.
