Prints Charming: His Story
As told by his nursemaid Maeve to Sally Odgers
The day Prints Charming was born, a magical prophecy was made. It was drawn up by the court mage, and tucked away in the royal casket for the next eighteen years, at which time the heir to the throne was expected to show signs of a royal talent.
That was what was supposed to happen.
Unfortunately, a few things went wrong. Well okay, several things went wrong. None of it was my fault.
Really.
The first problem happened because Queen Charlotte gave birth on the night of the Great Eclipse. Everyone was so distracted by the gathering darkness and the slice of moon gleaming like a vampire’s smile that no one–not even the midwives—noticed the exact moment the queen stopped yelling and the baby started roaring. Thus he might have been born late on the last day of the Year of the Hound (which was a luck-birthday) or early on the first day of the Year of the Camel (which was not). I’ve heard both dates bandied about. Poor Prints must be confused. Some people can’t even pronounce his name. They mix him up with his brother.
The prophecy was drawn up by the fort page, Jan Kees. Yes, yes, I thought it seemed odd, but I thought that’s what the king had commanded. The queen was yelling, the eclipse was happening, and a royal terrier was trying to get my best kerchief out the pocket of my apron. You can understand I was a trifle distracted when I took the king’s directions.
The prophecy was then to be stowed in the hall basket, and presumably carried off to market the next morning by one of the serving girls.
(I did wonder at the time why the king wanted a prophecy to be taken to market, but I supposed he intended to have it carried on a royal progress.)
Anyway, I forgot about it after that. I was kept pretty busy looking after Prints Charming. (Did I explain I was a royal nursery maid? No? Well, I was. I was hired on the king and queen’s wedding day, and, since my services weren’t required right away, I did odd jobs about the palace until their heir was born and I could take up my proper profession.)
I had close to eighteen years to forget about the prophecy, but as the fateful birthday approached, I started to be mildly anxious. Okay, very anxious. Okay! Anxioused out of my mind.
For one thing, there was the problem of which day the prophecy should be presented. Then there was the problem of whether the page had done a good job. And then there was the problem of where the prophecy had ended up. And then there was the problem that someone would probably get around to blaming me.
You can see why I considered making a run for it. The reason I didn’t was simple. I didn’t have anywhere to go. Besides, I was attached to Prints Charming. He’s a nice boy. Very artistic.
Anyhow, now it was too late. The day had come. (Or maybe it was the day before… who knows?)
His Majesty assembled the court and made a speech about how proud he was of his heir. Then he said it was a lucky birthday and just as well the heir to the throne had been born in the Year of the Hound and not in the Year of the Camel. After that, he called for the prophecy to be brought forth and read. I cringed. I really should have run, but it was too late now. Besides, Prints was standing next to me, smiling all over his friendly face. I couldn’t let him down. I’d practically raised him.
“Hey, Charming,” I said. “It’s been fun.”
“Yep,” said Prints Charming. “It sure has, Maeve. Couldn’t have asked for a kinder nursemaid or a better friend.”
“You never gave me much trouble,” I said. “You were a cute kid and though you’re pretty gawky now, you’ll soon grow into your feet. And don’t worry about the chin. The rest of your face will adjust to fit.”
“That’s good to know, Maeve,” said Prints, giving me a hug. “Meg Merryday at the bakery seems to like my chin pretty well.”
I was talking up a storm to avoid thinking of what was going to happen to me in just a few moments when His Majesty discovered the prophecy wasn’t immediately available. So, I was a bit annoyed when Prints Charming nudged me in the ribs.
“What?” I said.
“Better be quiet, Maeve. Dad’s about to read out the fateful document.”
“But he can’t,” I said. “That’s the point!”
“Hush.” Prints untied my apron strings just so he could have the fun of seeing me tie them up again. (I can’t do knots behind my back, so I have to slide out of the top of the apron, tug it round, tie the knot in front, then slide it round to the back and slide back into the top.)
By the time I’d done that, His Majesty was putting away the royal prophecy.
Huh?
“Has he read it out?” I asked.
“Well, duh,” said Prints Charming.
“But where did he find it?” (I was wondering if the king was a wizard. I’d never noticed any purple lightning zapping from his fingertips, but that’s not an infallible test. Sometimes, with modern wizards, the lightning is more puce than purple.)
“Do pay attention, Maeve,” said the Prints. “He found it in the royal casket where it has been ever since the court mage drew it up eighteen years ago.”
“But Charming, I told the fort page, Jan Kees, to draw it up and put it in the hall basket!” I protested.
“Did you Maeve? Well then, Jan must have misheard and given the job to the court mage by mistake. And he, foolish fellow, put the prophecy in the royal casket instead of the hall basket.”
“But what did it say?”
Prints Charming shrugged. “I have no idea. I wasn’t listening. I was thanking my stars the prophecy is Charlie’s problem and not mine.” He sighed, smiling. “We’re twins, but just think how terrible it would be it we’d been born the same day! Thank goodness my Majestic Mama managed to have me on a different day, a different month and a different year, even if we are just minutes apart… Now Charlie has to be the apprentice king. I get to work in the gallery, selling my prints. Everyone says they’re charming.” He grinned at me with his friendly grin. “Hey Maeve, it’s my birthday tomorrow. Wanna pose for your portrait? Then I can say, ‘Maeve; you’ve been framed.’ I’ve always wanted to say that.”
As told by his nursemaid Maeve to Sally Odgers
The day Prints Charming was born, a magical prophecy was made. It was drawn up by the court mage, and tucked away in the royal casket for the next eighteen years, at which time the heir to the throne was expected to show signs of a royal talent.
That was what was supposed to happen.
Unfortunately, a few things went wrong. Well okay, several things went wrong. None of it was my fault.
Really.
The first problem happened because Queen Charlotte gave birth on the night of the Great Eclipse. Everyone was so distracted by the gathering darkness and the slice of moon gleaming like a vampire’s smile that no one–not even the midwives—noticed the exact moment the queen stopped yelling and the baby started roaring. Thus he might have been born late on the last day of the Year of the Hound (which was a luck-birthday) or early on the first day of the Year of the Camel (which was not). I’ve heard both dates bandied about. Poor Prints must be confused. Some people can’t even pronounce his name. They mix him up with his brother.
The prophecy was drawn up by the fort page, Jan Kees. Yes, yes, I thought it seemed odd, but I thought that’s what the king had commanded. The queen was yelling, the eclipse was happening, and a royal terrier was trying to get my best kerchief out the pocket of my apron. You can understand I was a trifle distracted when I took the king’s directions.
The prophecy was then to be stowed in the hall basket, and presumably carried off to market the next morning by one of the serving girls.
(I did wonder at the time why the king wanted a prophecy to be taken to market, but I supposed he intended to have it carried on a royal progress.)
Anyway, I forgot about it after that. I was kept pretty busy looking after Prints Charming. (Did I explain I was a royal nursery maid? No? Well, I was. I was hired on the king and queen’s wedding day, and, since my services weren’t required right away, I did odd jobs about the palace until their heir was born and I could take up my proper profession.)
I had close to eighteen years to forget about the prophecy, but as the fateful birthday approached, I started to be mildly anxious. Okay, very anxious. Okay! Anxioused out of my mind.
For one thing, there was the problem of which day the prophecy should be presented. Then there was the problem of whether the page had done a good job. And then there was the problem of where the prophecy had ended up. And then there was the problem that someone would probably get around to blaming me.
You can see why I considered making a run for it. The reason I didn’t was simple. I didn’t have anywhere to go. Besides, I was attached to Prints Charming. He’s a nice boy. Very artistic.
Anyhow, now it was too late. The day had come. (Or maybe it was the day before… who knows?)
His Majesty assembled the court and made a speech about how proud he was of his heir. Then he said it was a lucky birthday and just as well the heir to the throne had been born in the Year of the Hound and not in the Year of the Camel. After that, he called for the prophecy to be brought forth and read. I cringed. I really should have run, but it was too late now. Besides, Prints was standing next to me, smiling all over his friendly face. I couldn’t let him down. I’d practically raised him.
“Hey, Charming,” I said. “It’s been fun.”
“Yep,” said Prints Charming. “It sure has, Maeve. Couldn’t have asked for a kinder nursemaid or a better friend.”
“You never gave me much trouble,” I said. “You were a cute kid and though you’re pretty gawky now, you’ll soon grow into your feet. And don’t worry about the chin. The rest of your face will adjust to fit.”
“That’s good to know, Maeve,” said Prints, giving me a hug. “Meg Merryday at the bakery seems to like my chin pretty well.”
I was talking up a storm to avoid thinking of what was going to happen to me in just a few moments when His Majesty discovered the prophecy wasn’t immediately available. So, I was a bit annoyed when Prints Charming nudged me in the ribs.
“What?” I said.
“Better be quiet, Maeve. Dad’s about to read out the fateful document.”
“But he can’t,” I said. “That’s the point!”
“Hush.” Prints untied my apron strings just so he could have the fun of seeing me tie them up again. (I can’t do knots behind my back, so I have to slide out of the top of the apron, tug it round, tie the knot in front, then slide it round to the back and slide back into the top.)
By the time I’d done that, His Majesty was putting away the royal prophecy.
Huh?
“Has he read it out?” I asked.
“Well, duh,” said Prints Charming.
“But where did he find it?” (I was wondering if the king was a wizard. I’d never noticed any purple lightning zapping from his fingertips, but that’s not an infallible test. Sometimes, with modern wizards, the lightning is more puce than purple.)
“Do pay attention, Maeve,” said the Prints. “He found it in the royal casket where it has been ever since the court mage drew it up eighteen years ago.”
“But Charming, I told the fort page, Jan Kees, to draw it up and put it in the hall basket!” I protested.
“Did you Maeve? Well then, Jan must have misheard and given the job to the court mage by mistake. And he, foolish fellow, put the prophecy in the royal casket instead of the hall basket.”
“But what did it say?”
Prints Charming shrugged. “I have no idea. I wasn’t listening. I was thanking my stars the prophecy is Charlie’s problem and not mine.” He sighed, smiling. “We’re twins, but just think how terrible it would be it we’d been born the same day! Thank goodness my Majestic Mama managed to have me on a different day, a different month and a different year, even if we are just minutes apart… Now Charlie has to be the apprentice king. I get to work in the gallery, selling my prints. Everyone says they’re charming.” He grinned at me with his friendly grin. “Hey Maeve, it’s my birthday tomorrow. Wanna pose for your portrait? Then I can say, ‘Maeve; you’ve been framed.’ I’ve always wanted to say that.”