Chapter 3

“Yes, you can thank my mother for that. She seems to think we’re going to have a special night, as she called it. I assure you, we are not.”

Princess Lingonberry propped herself up on her elbow to face Solange. “You do not find me desirable. I understand. Such is often the case in royal marriages. But perhaps in time you can learn to love me. Just a little.”

“Hey,” Princess Solange extended her index finger and gently touched it to Lingonberry’s cheek. She swiped sideways and wiped a tiny tear that had formed there. “I’m sorry. You’re very beautiful, and I really do prefer the company of a woman, but …”

“It’s all so sudden. I mean, I just rescued you this afternoon and now everybody thinks were going to fall in love and get married — and probably live happily ever after too. As if that ever happens.”

“Is it so bad to wish for?” Princess Lingonberry’s lip was quivering as she leaned into Solange. For her part, Princess Solange did not back away, but met Lingonberry’s kiss straight on. And after a moment of tender embrace, she returned it with another, longer kiss.

“It’s just …” Solange started.

She was interrupted by Princess Lingonberry’s lips again. She relished the taste and the warmth, and this time she cupped Lingonberry’s cheeks in her hands and pulled her forth. Princess Lingonberry responded by offering her tongue, which Solange gladly accepted. Solange quickly found that she liked this woman quite a bit, so long as she wasn’t prattling on about marriage.

The two women tumbled over the mattress of Princess Solange’s bed with Lingonberry landing on top. Solange tried to pull her back down for another kiss, but Lingonberry resisted, locking her elbows and refusing to budge. Princess Solange entertained herself by contemplating the curve of the woman’s generous breasts and the obvious stiffness of her crinkled pink nipples.

“I thought you hated me,” Lingonberry said.

“I never said I hated you. I rescued you for goodness sake. Would I do that if I hated you?”

Princess Lingonberry shrugged. Solange tried again to pull her down for another kiss and again was rebuked. “Tell me that you love me and that we shall be married on the morrow,” Lingonberry said.

“No. I just met you. Now kiss me.”

“No. Not until I hear your proposal.”

“Well I guess we’re stuck here, aren’t we?” Solange glared.

“I guess so.” Lingonberry glared back.

“Your arms will eventually give out.”

“Yes they will.” Princess Solange trailed her fingertips over Lingonberry’s arms, from her shoulder, over her locked elbows, and down to her hands. Princess Lingonberry shuddered. Solange took a moment to enjoy the way the woman’s breasts jiggled and placed her fingers on Lingonberry’s shoulders for another run.

“No. Not fair.” Princess Lingonberry complained as she shuddered again and collapsed onto Solange’s chest.

Princess Solange weaved her fingers into Lingonberry’s long, blonde locks, holding her fast as she pulled her in for another kiss. And another. And another. Until finally releasing her as the two women lay panting. Princess Lingonberry touched her finger to Solange’s chin. “You’re trouble,” she said and rolled onto her side.

“If you feel uncomfortable, you’re welcome to return to your own room.” Solange grinned. “I can even arrange for an escort if you’re still afraid of the big bad castle.”

“Stop it.” Lingonberry placed her hand against Solange’s shoulder to shove her aside.

“Sorry.” Princess Solange laid her head on Princess Lingonberry’s chest. “You’re very pretty, you know.”

“No, really. Surely, you must have noticed by now how I look at you.”

“I’m a girl. You like girls. So what?”

“Not just any girls.” Princess Solange used her fingertip to trace out ever-tightening concentric circles on Lingonberry’s tummy while the other woman did her best not to giggle. “But I think I just might be starting to like this girl. This girl right here.” Solange playfully poked Lingonberry’s navel.

Lingonberry smirked. “Prove it.”

“Promise not to drag me to the altar in the morning?”

Princess Lingonberry reached up and drew the shape of an X over her heart. At least as close as she could get with Solange’s head still resting on her bosom.

Princess Solange lifted Lingonberry’s hand to her mouth, puckered her lips and pressed them to Princess Lingonberry’s index finger. She drew the finger into her mouth with a bit of gentle suction and clamped her teeth to hold it fast. Solange shook her head just a bit as if scolding the other woman for managing to get herself trapped.

“Kiss me,” Solange whispered around the finger in her teeth.

Princess Solange swirled her tongue around Lingonberry’s trapped finger before releasing her grip.

Holding up her end of the bargain, Princess Lingonberry lowered her mouth so that her lips were less than an inch from Solange’s. This teasing did not deter Solange in the slightest as she extended her tongue to press into Lingonberry’s mouth.

“Mmm,” Lingonberry moaned, and leaned in to suck Princess Solange’s tongue. The two women engaged in a battle of tongues for quite some time, nipping, pressing, sucking, and moaning. In fact they were moaning loudly enough to attract the attention of Macy, the chambermaid.

Young Macy stood outside the door with her ear pressed against a drinking glass that was in turn pressed against the heavy oaken slab. “Sounds like the princess has found herself a new plaything,” she giggled to Clara, the cook’s assistant who had provided the glass.

“I hear they are to be wed come morning,” Clara said.

Macy and Clara had each been bedded by Princess Solange multiple times during their employ in the castle, and once during a particularly enjoyable summer, both at the same time. “She’s not the marrying type,” Macy replied.

“We’ll see,” responded Clara. And the two young ladies skipped down the hall hand in hand. They both loved Princess Solange dearly and longed to keep her, but were also realistic enough to know that their station in life prevented that possibility from ever occurring. Besides, they had each other.

“Did you hear something?” Princess Lingonberry asked. “Somebody knocking against the door?”

“Must be ghosts,” Solange teased, brushing an errant strand of hair from Lingonberry’s face. “Are you afraid?”

Princess Solange knew very well who it was at the door. She had recognized the giggles, muted as they were by the heavy oak timbers. Solange imagined Clara and Macy as they stood hand in hand, whispering of the princess’s new lover.

“Don’t tease me,” Lingonberry said. “I know I heard someone there.”

“Yes, I heard it too. Just the curious help, I assure you.”

“How can you be so sure it’s not my evil step-auntie come to take me away?”

“Because she doesn’t giggle like a nineteen year old. The sounds you heard were made by Macy, my chambermaid and Clara, the cook’s assistant. They were spying on me to see if I had seduced you into my bed.”

“Seduced me?” Lingonberry frowned. “No, don’t tell me. Like you seduced them?”

“Of course. I have known them both many times over the course of my life. They taught me much and are the reason for my preferences.”

Princess Lingonberry looked into Solange’s eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that. If ways were different I would happily wed either one of them. Or both. But if I had, then where would we be?” Princess Solange glared. “And don’t tell me you’ve never fooled around with the help. Perhaps a stable hand who fancied you?”

“No, never.” Princess Lingonberry’s frown had deepened, and catching the moonlight was a tear that was forming in the corner of her eye. “I — I’m saving myself.”

“Hey,” Solange whispered. “I won’t apologize for loving them, but it doesn’t mean there’s no room for you too. If you wish.”

“You’ve already said you’re not going to marry me, so what makes you think that I’ll give up my virtue to you?”

“What I said was that I’m not letting you drag me off to the altar in the morning.” Princess Solange touched her extended index finger to the bridge of Lingonberry’s nose. “Doesn’t mean it’ll never happen.”

Princess Lingonberry let out a heavy sigh and turned her face away.

“Suit yourself. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do. But maybe you could stay and we can just keep each other warm, OK? Perhaps talk about all the fun things we could do together while you’re hiding out from you evil step-sister over the next year.”

“Step-auntie,” Lingonberry corrected, then rolled over in a huff and squeezed her eyes shut.

Princess Solange’s bed chamber, the next day

Princess Solange’s morning was greeted with sunshine and a light and airy birdsong. “What’s that racket?” Solange thought, and then she looked across the room where her dressing table stood. Princess Lingonberry was seated there, humming along with the finches that encircled her head.

In the mirror Solange could see the little golden finches taking bits of blonde hair in their beaks and arranging it just so on top of Lingonberry’s head. “Seriously?” Solange thought. “What is it with this chick?” But deep down Princess Solange knew it wasn’t anything Lingonberry had done, it was just her own sour morning mood.

“O happy morning to you Princess Solange. I pray my little helpers did not wake you from your slumber.”

Solange pulled the covers up over her head and groaned, but the cheerful birdsong still found its way to her ears. She sighed and lifted the comforter just enough to peek through with one eye. “She is awfully sweet,” Solange thought, “and a good kisser too. But why? Why does she have to be such a morning person?”

Princess Lingonberry scooted herself over and patted the cushion next to her as the birds continued their work on her hair. “Please, come sit with me,” she said, smiling.

Solange dragged herself from the bed and trudged over to the dressing table. She plopped herself next to the grinning princess and picked up a hair brush. She watched the carefree image of Lingonberry in the mirror as half a dozen birds fluttered about arranging her hair.

Solange sighed and began brushing her own hair, since presently there were no finches offering to take up the task. “If you need something to wear, you may look through my wardrobe. Unless of course your bird brigade has sewn you a new dress during the night.”

Princess Lingonberry ignored the jab, instead smiling and pressing her lips to Solange’s cheek. “Thank you. You are very kind.”

“And you are a bit of a loon,” Solange thought, but kept it to herself.

In the royal dining room

“That was a most delicious breakfast casserole,” Lingonberry exclaimed, setting her fork down on the empty plate.

“Would you like a bit more?” Solange’s mother asked, hovering over Princess Lingonberry as her own daughter sat sullenly contemplating her morning Latte, biding her time until it was cool enough to drink.

“I really don’t want to trouble you.” Lingonberry turned to the queen. “But it is simply divine.”

“It’s the sauce. The chef says it’s called hollandaise. It’s from …” The queen turned her gaze from Princess Lingonberry to the nearby courtyard. “What is that noise? That snarling?”

As the snarling sound was repeated, Princess Lingonberry froze, all of the color draining away from her now frowning face. “No, it can’t be.”

“That’s it, I’ve had it. It’s too early and I am not dealing with this anymore,” Princess Solange muttered, pushed her untouched latte away, and got up from the table.

“Where are you going?” exclaimed Lingonberry. “What if I need rescuing again? You — you can’t leave! Uggh!”

But Princess Solange did not hear Lingonberry’s tone of disgust. In fact, she didn’t hear Lingonberry at all. She had already sprinted up to her room, taking the stairs two at a time. Princess Solange ran to her wardrobe and began digging deep inside.

“Damn evil step-mother,” she muttered as she pawed her way to the back. “I am so not in the mood for this.”

Eventually she found the items she was looking for — the black pants, black tunic and black wrap-around mask — the uniform of the ninja. She quickly pulled it on and cinched it all up with a black belt that also secured her ceremonial katana, a gift from the Japanese royal family.