Note: I wrote this a while back... Like almost two years ago. This may not appeal to some of you, but what the heck. I can't resist the call of the wild fantastic fantasy. With all the princesses and such. Don't judge. And enjoy!
“Olivia!” Aunt’s voice shouted.
Startled by the abrupt yell, I ineptly dropped the priceless vase I had been vigilantly polishing. The multi-colored ornament plummeted towards the ground and reached the end of its life when it collided with the gleaming wood floor. The sound of splintering clay echoed through the hallway, and my heart thumped with terror when I heard Aunt’s pounding footsteps getting louder.
A harsh gasp behind me showed that Aunt had already seen the damage. Her furious blue eyes in narrow slits, hands on hips, and blond hair tied back in a tight bun, Aunt gave the impression of a hard working, no-nonsense lady. “You, you broke the vase?” Aunt demanded huskily, her face pastel.
Dread gripped me when I realized the importance of the vase; it had been a wedding gift, but before Aunt could say another word, a youthful voice called from downstairs. “Mother, back from school!”
Biting her lip, Aunt lowered her voice. “Get back into your room, Olivia.” Her tone seemed strained, and I gratefully obliged.
Wandering quietly into my small bedroom, I plopped heavily down on my large bed and sighed softly. Glancing out my puny window that shed clear rays of light, I saw the clouds darken. Nearly dinnertime and the day was, I concluded, the same, unchanged, and tedious like every single day of February in 1755. The only fresh event of this whole month was the upcoming ball at the House of Hanover tonight.
As one of the wealthiest families in England, Uncle, Aunt, and both their children had been invited – that did not include me, for I was only the adopted daughter. I scowled dejectedly, why couldn’t I go? I yearned for just a glimpse of the royal court and the courtiers. And, the prince himself! All of England branded the prince as extremely attractive, courageous, and a striking seventeen-year old, although I myself only saw portraits of the imperial prince.
A brisk knock interrupted my girlish daydreams, and the flimsy wood door swung open to reveal a tanned boyish face. “Hello,” he murmured casually, walking briskly towards me.
Joy filled me when I saw my cherished childhood friend and foster brother, Adrian. Nearly eight inches taller than then my five foot three stance, his wide shoulders and slim waist gave an impression of a muscular athlete. Adrian possessed the same curly hair that his mother, Aunt, forced into a bun. Rolling onto my stomach, I rested my chin on a hand and watched Adrian pull a chair next to the bed. “Is Aunt upset?” I inquired worriedly.
Although in truth, Aunt Vinnie had no true blood ties with me, she had required me to call her ‘Aunt’ instead of her actual name, ‘Mrs. Freeman’ since it sounded “proper”. I had come to live with the Freemans after they extended their generosity when my own parents died from an unknown disease that had snuffed out their candle-like lives.
“No, it’s just that the vase was really expensive,” Adrian replied comfortingly and slid into a wooden chair. “Anyway, I’ve got an idea,” he proposed.
Raising an eyebrow in suspicion, I wondered what disastrous ‘idea’ had popped into Adrian’s mind this time for I had been the victim of many stunts. “You want to go to the banquet tonight, right?” At my attentive eager nod, he continued, “You could go dressed as Jesse! He’s invited, but got sick just today. I thought this through before, and Jesse says it’s okay; here’s his invitation to get into the royal house.”
I gawped at him with a skeptical expression, but soon realized that he was deadly serious. “Pardon?” I whispered in disbelief. For a woman to dress like a man might possibly mean going behind bars for a considerable amount of time.
Interpreting my astounded expression correctly, Adrian waved his hand exasperatedly, “Just don’t get caught! You can sneak out on Flame after we’re gone. Father will arrive earlier at Hanover, since he’s going straight from work.”
Rolling my eyes, I barely managed to muffle a very unladylike snort of laughter. Me, a fifteen year old female in a boy’s garb? And riding on a horse like a boy? I guffawed at the thought. But if it worked, I would get to see the prince! After years of living with Adrian, I had developed a nearly full-grown daring spirit. A tremor of excitement rose in my stomach. “I’ll – I’ll do it,” I stammered indecisively.
Nodding his head in approval, Adrian rose from his seat. “Well, got to find some clothes now,” he murmured, looking at my short figure. “Stay here,” he commanded shortly, and leapt out of my dusty bedroom.
Fingering my laced emerald green corset uncertainly, I sincerely hoped that my hazardous decision would not fire back. Within five minutes, Adrian had dashed back into the open-door, triumphantly holding a bundle of clothes. Tossing them carelessly onto my bed, he motioned towards them. “Got these about four years ago, bout twelve years old. Should fit you,” he smiled proudly.
Staring dubiously at the clothes, I saw that they consisted of a pair of snug white breeches, silken black stockings, a flashy blood red dress shirt, an elaborate overcoat, a plain cloak, and a long chocolate colored wig. “Thank you,” I managed to mutter when Adrian left the room to prepare for the dance.
Closing the door, I gingerly stripped off my clothes and cautiously dressed in the daring outfit. Breathlessly, I turned to face my glossy paneled mirror and gazed at the teenager staring back with startling green eyes. The gleaming eyes seemed to prance around lively, looking for a prank to pull. The constricted breeches felt uncomfortably tight and exposing, but the loose dress shirt billowed comfily across my ribs. Brushing a strand of dark hair, I expertly bound my thick, waist-long hair into a stiff bun with a scarlet ribbon and reached for the curled wig. Definitely not my kind of hairstyle, I noted mutely. I gingerly placed the hairpiece straight down on my bound hair.
“This could really work,” I mouthed in amazement. Attempting to put on a straight face, I danced across my bare floor, twirling about until I realized that males did not whirl about. Wrinkling my brow, I struggled to remember how Adrian had danced, seemingly flawlessly with every step. Holding my arms spread apart, I stepped up, stepped back, and pretended to twirl a girl around.
A thunderous knock brought me back to my senses, “Olivia!” Aunt’s voice called.
Aunt can’t see me in this attire! I swiveled about in panic, tumbling heavily onto my knees when I tripped on the long overcoat. “Sorry Aunt!” I cried awkwardly from my sprawled position. “I’m dressing.” I jumped onto my bed, pulling the covers over my quavering body. Aunt’s impatient foot tapping echoed my thumping heart; she wasn’t satisfied with my feeble answer. I shouted, “Come in!” and quickly pulled off the wig, stuffing it hurriedly under my covers.
Aunt opened the door with such force it trembled against the wall, and tromped over to me. Glowering at me from her intimidating view of five foot eight of pure muscle, Aunt finally sighed and said, “I’m sorry for losing my temper.”
From under the covers, I nodded. “And I’m sorry for breaking the vase,” I replied meekly. This apology did not surprise me at all; Aunt may seem tough on the outside, but she had a soft heart.
“I’m sorry you aren’t able to join us tonight,” Aunt replied gruffly, and without waiting for an answer, turned on her heels and stalked out of the room. But I will go to the splendid ball, I smirked mischievously.
Three hours later, when I heard the whole family scurry out of the house and the lock click noisily, I guardedly opened the window in my room. A chilly small breeze greeted me, playfully tossing the fake curls about my head. I had climbed up and down this tree many times with my dresses, yet every time, a flame of alarm rose. Groping for the flowering limb I knew would stick out, I winced in pain when the rough jagged branch scraped my slender fingers mercilessly. Carefully pulling my leg over the low window sill, I stepped onto a sturdy branch and boldly jumped; soaring perilously for a split second before sturdily landing on a thick branch and cautiously edging towards the crown of the tree. Shimmying down the trunk, I somehow managed to keep the loaned clothes from any serious harm. Dropping skillfully on both feet, I surveyed the blooming Jacarandas tree I had descended. I’m glad we planted that beautiful tree, I thought, dashing towards the stable.
I can run, actually run, I realized excitedly. With my legs free to move, I found that I could sprint unreservedly. Darting towards the shadow of the stable, I slid the wooden plank from that blocked the stable gateway, and flung the door open. The pounding of hooves thundered through the stable when the moonlight shone through the dimness.
Blissfully skipping past several neighing horses, I stopped abruptly at the seventh stall. I heard restless pawing and impatient nickering. “Howya doing Flame?” I crooned soothingly, carefully opening the stall door. The gorgeous black Thoroughbred snorted in reply, blowing a soft mist in my face. Caressing the magnificent mare, I saw that Adrian had thoughtfully saddled his beautiful animal beforehand and felt a surge of gratefulness at his willingness to assist me. “C’mon Adrian’s girl,” I murmured gently, stepping adeptly over Flame’s broad back.
Having only rode Flame mermaid style; I felt strange with the saddle in-between my legs. Leading the horse from the stable out into the open night, I noticed that the sun was slowly creeping down from its high perch in the sky. I had to get a move on it, I thought, thoroughly flustered. Keeping Flame’s middle tightly squeezed with my knees, I urged her onward on a familiar path. “Hmmm, from here it’s only two miles to the House of Hanover. Aunt and her family took the stagecoach, so I’d better watch out if I get too close to over catching them,” I mused out loud.
Bringing Flame to a relaxed trot with my warm cloak billowing behind, I caught sight of the lamp-lit stagecoach in less than five minutes. Suddenly, a wave of unease washed through me. I shuddered, though not from cold, and glanced fretfully about. “Get away!” Aunt’s panicked cry brought my attention back to the stagecoach; it was surrounded by two masked men who advanced towards the coach! Without thinking, I directed Flame into an all out sprint towards the carriage.
“Leave them alone!” I bellowed, attempting to keep my voice low. Astonished at the unexpected outburst from what must have seemed like a frightening cloaked figure, the two men fled from the road into the safety of the trees’ darkness.
Oh no, what do I do? Aunt was hurriedly coming towards me, and I had no desire for her to recognize the girl underneath the costume. Thinking quickly, I pulled my cloak further over my head and turned Flame’s head away from the light; “Hello ma’am,” I made sure that the voice seemed an octave below my usual tone.
“Thank you, oh thank you!” Aunt practically sobbed in appreciation. “Those two scoundrels were planning on stealing our coach and leaving us on the road! Then you came in, thank you, thank you!”
Momentarily stumped, I coughed deeply. “I’m glad I could help you,” I gruffly said.
“May I ask, where are you going tonight?” Aunt asked inquisitively.
“Down to the banquet at the court, ma’am,” I answered automatically. I don’t think there’s any harm in letting them know, I thought silently.
Aunt raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Well,” she purred. “You can accompany us for our safety, for we also go to there.”
Knowing that Aunt feared for her children, I nodded curtly. This would grant me passage to the banquet. Sighing in great relief, Aunt bustled towards the stagecoach. My heart thumping with apprehension, I managed a worried smile, for it seemed that Aunt might have recognized the superb horse that belonged in her stable.
Adrian’s broad grin reached me when he identified the hand-me-down clothes and his treasured animal. “Thank you so much for,” he coughed loudly, “‘protecting’ us.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, though, fortunately, Aunt missed it. Snarling inwardly, I managed to keep my tongue under control.
After forty minutes of hearing the noise of clopping hooves and squeaky carriage wheels, we reached the grand entry way of the castle. A stable boy took the horses to the stables, and we courteously strutted towards the huge two-door opening.
Chivalrously holding the door for us, two muscular guards checked for weapons and counterfeit invitations. When we passed the ordeal, a butler gracefully escorted us towards the main ballroom. A ripple of the sweet melodious violin tune drifted towards us in greeting. Thrill flooded my stomach; the prince himself sat elegantly upon a velvet couch, lazily greeting the incoming visitors with an air of boredom. Before the butler led us to the prince, he politely asked for our cloaks and coats.
Sensing the danger of Aunt recognizing me without the cloak, I melted away from her, away from the bustling line to Prince George III. Glancing into a long glass window, I checked for any giveaways that anyone might catch. Wig on straight, manly look, alright, nobody’ll guess that I’m a girl, I thought sheepishly. Making my way over to the refreshments, I sipped from a silver goblet of delicious punch and stared at the prince. His long dark locks surrounded his head, and a straight nose proudly set on his face. All in all, I believed him to carry a majestic and noble atmosphere. Sighing, I fell into a daydream of dancing with the prince.
“Olivia!” a voice hissed.
Startled, I snapped my head around to find Adrian looming over me. “Adrian! You nearly scared the wits out of me,” I snapped heatedly, my voice no longer deep. Sensing an unusual moodiness in Adrian, I followed him away from the extensive line and over to a less crowded area.
“Father has just made another reckless bet!” Adrian scowled. I growled inwardly; Uncle had always had trouble with gambling.
Wide-eyed, I fidgeted in the knee-high boots. “What now?”
Sullen, Adrian shook his head angrily. “Nothing, really,” he said sarcastically. “Only the whole estate, including the horses!”
I swallowed, shocked. Uncle was always rash, but this, this went too far. I shivered; where could we go if Uncle lost the bet? “Wh-what did Uncle bet on?”
“He set a race between the Prince and one of our horsemen! We’ll have to stay overnight here,” Adrian muttered.
Despair filled me; well-known for his exceptional riding skills, I had no doubt that the prince would beat any of our horsemen.
“Uncle will allow one of our horsemen to volunteer, however, I fear that none will seeing the Prince’s skills.” Adrian clenched his fists agitatedly.
A haphazard idea came into my head; I would ride! “I’ll volunteer,” I boldly suggested. When Adrian gave me a skeptical look, I explained my reasons. “I have always beaten all the ladies and many men in riding! Now, I’ll have an advantage, dressed like a boy. No more mermaid riding, I mean, side saddle, don’t you see?”
Rubbing his fingers together thoughtfully, he wrinkled his brow in verdict. “Oh, all right,” he concluded. “And you ask where I get my ‘outrageous imagination’,” Adrian muttered.
Rolling my eyes, I began impishly asking young ladies my own age to a dance, enjoying the look of utter shock and amusement cross Adrian’s face. While Adrian busily explained to Aunt that I, his friend Jesse, would spend the night to see the race, I tried my best to dance like an adequate male. At nearly four o’clock when all was dark and the dancing had stopped, I staggered behind a maid into a huge room. The walls, painted blood red, had shadows bouncing from the warm flickering fireplace. Fully clothed, I plunged down resignedly onto a sleigh bed covered with incredibly soft, velvet white covers.
“Ahhh,” I groaned. What got into me? Choosing to go to the race? Worn out, I passed out into oblivious darkness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Olivia, oh Olivia!” cried a high-pitched voice.
Oh no, Aunt knows I’m here! Blinking the sleep away, I timidly uncovered the comforter from my head and saw a figure indolently sitting at the foot of my bed…Adrian! Piqued, I pulled the covers back over my head and gritted my teeth in irritation. Adrian guffawing unrestrainedly. Heaving myself into a sitting position, I expertly swung a pillow at Adrian’s head.
Nimbly ducking the pillow, Adrian said in a sing-song voice, “It’s nearly eleven thirty miss,” he motioned at the grandfather clock that stood dejectedly in a lonely corner. “If you remember—”
“The race starts at twelve!” I yelled, leaping from the bed and into the bathroom. Within three minutes, I had finished washing up, put on the wig, and dashed downstairs. Running out the doorway, I met Uncle stroking his chin in deep thought. Uncle seemed worried, his usual gleaming hair tangled. Maybe he had become somber, I thought optimistically. “Hello sir! I’ll race against Prince George!” I shouted, carefully lowering my voice several tones.
Uncle shook his head hesitantly, “Well, my boy, I think not.”
“But sir!” I objected jubilantly. Uncle frowned fiercely, and I faltered. “Well, sir, I know I can do it,” I said, putting an unavoidably noticeable emphasize on the ‘know’.
He chuckled at the apparently naïve ambiance I gave. “No one else has wanted to come up to the challenge.” Sighing deeply, he continued, “Let me see what you can do.”
“Yes sir!” I answered victoriously. Nervousness filled me from head to toe; this would not be a race forgotten.
“Select a horse of your choice from the stables. Most of them are purebreds, so choose well,” Uncle said.
“Sir?” I asked cautiously.
Unaware that he had given his adopted daughter the responsibility of the whole estate, Uncle nodded. “Yes?”
“I will make a deal with you; If I win, you shall never gamble, yes?”
Uncle furrowed his eyebrows dangerously. “Yes, yes,” he decided after a few moments. “I’ve done more than enough harm to my family already,” he said soberly.
A small hope growing inside, I sprinted to the stables with Uncle a step behind, and greeted Flame with a warm hug. “We’re going to show the prince what we’re made of, okay girl?”
Adrian stood besides his beloved horse, and I saw that he had already prepared the mare for the race. “Up you go,” he said, assisting me onto the saddle.
Smiling, I turned to Adrian. “Thanks for everything, brother!” I whispered. With that, I turned Flame out of the stall and to the green field, circling around for a short demonstration.
Uncle nodded approvingly. “Good, good. Excellent posture, nice control. I shall pray that you do well.”
“Yes!” I hooted in feigned delight.
The prince, sitting at ease on a beautiful chestnut Quarter Horse, raised his hand in salutation. A small crowd consisting of about two dozen inquisitive spectators ambled behind the prince. In the throng, I noticed Aunt and her young daughter, Elizabeth, watching anxiously with huge eyes. Trotting over to Prince George, I shook his hand, before tersely turning to the race beginning.
A rugged looking man with rough features strolled towards us. “You shall both go on this track three times,” he said with a hoarse voice. Looking at the track, I gulped; it resembled a curled snake, and had twisty paths that would test my maneuvering abilities. A loud gunshot summoned the start of the race.
Kicking my legs into Flame’s sides, I brought her into a steady canter because I didn’t want Flame to tire out right away. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the prince do the same. After five minutes, we completed one winding lap, and by now my legs ached from directing Flame.
My heart thumped rhythmically, faster and faster; the prince was pulling away! “C’mon Flame,” I murmured near the horse’s ear. “The whole estate relies on us.” The mare snorted in reply and sped up. Last and final lap, I thought. Urging Flame into a speedy gallop, I felt the wind brush past. “Let’s go! Give it all you got girl!” I whooped in a very unladylike fashion.
Flame’s sides heaved with each step, sweat dripped from her stomach but she continued to press on. Exhilaration flared in me when I saw that we had overtook the prince! Only a couple more yards, I calculated. “Yes!” I screamed jubilantly. We passed the finish line just moments before Prince George arrived.
Gasping for breath, Flame nearly collapsed with fatigue. “Good girl, good girl,” I said, fondling her head. Uncle and his family cheered heartily, and rushed towards me. I attempted to elegantly jump from Flame’s back onto the ground, but my right boot got wedged in the stirrups and I fell head over heels on the ground.
A loud gasp brought me to my senses. “Olivia? Is that you?” I heard Aunt whisper in disbelief. Feeling my hair, I realized that my wig had fallen and looked guiltily into Aunt’s face.
“I was beaten by, by, by a girl?” I heard the prince splutter.
Standing up proudly, I nodded my head brusquely. Yes, I beat you, I felt a smirk forming, and quickly replaced the insolent look with a more respectful expression.
“Oh Olivia! If you did not just win back our whole estate, I would ground you for the next year!” Aunt fumed. “Dressed in, in, in male clothing!” She exclaimed.
“I want to be just like you!” Aunt’s five year old daughter, Elizabeth, sighed in awe.
Uncle just stood, staring incredulously at his adopted daughter, shaking his head in utter amazement.
When Aunt finally calmed down, I embraced her. “I’m sorry Aunt. I wanted to go to the ball, and I did not plan on doing anything like this, truly.” I explained.
A firm hand clamped down on my shoulder. “Sorry? Sorry?!” Adrian cried. “Why should you be sorry? You just saved our whole property!” Stooping down near my ear, he said softly, “Now, aren’t you glad I came up with the cleverest, most prudent, shrewdest, most—”
“Oi there!” A voice interrupted Adrian’s “humble” speech.
Turning towards the sound of the voice, I saw the prince make his way towards our bubbling huddle. “Your Majesty,” I said, constructing an ungainly curtsy in tights.
The prince eyed me with indescribably clear blue eyes and smiled gregariously. “Few are the times I lose against men, and this, the first time against a girl. I envy your remarkable riding dexterity, and your boldness amazes me,” he said smoothly. “I am in need of a suitable riding companion – would you like to become a rider and live at the royal House of Hanover?” Prince George scrutinized me expectantly.
I could hardly believe my ears; the prince asks me to fulfill my dream of living at the palace? “Y-y-y-yes your Majesty,” I stuttered. The prince nodded, and started back to his horse. “Wait,” I called.
When Prince George stopped immediately, I felt my cheeks flush in embarrassment at my disrespect. “Go on,” he said kindly.
“Can my family have free access too?” I asked hesitantly.
His face broke out into a grin. “Yes, of course. I half expected you to ask that, seeing how daring you appear.” With that, he waved and disappeared on his mount.
Aunt squealed with exhilaration while Elizabeth hopped up and down. “Thank you Olivia! We now live at the palace! With the King!” Elizabeth smiled eagerly.
I closed my eyes, my head dazed from the overwhelming information. Living at the palace; it was my dreams come true.
Adrian let out a wild whoop, Elizabeth danced around, Aunt smiled, and Uncle grinned at the aspect of living at the palace. “Thank you Olivia!” Adrian said, enveloping me in a brotherly embrace.
Hugging him back, I whispered, “No, thank you…”
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