Chapter 1
Once upon a time, there lived twelve reasonably attractive princesses who, when lined up together, caused such a sight that the world agreed to call them beautiful. And so they were. Every morning when the twelve princesses were roused from sleep, their slippers appeared scuffed and worn to the sole…as if they had spent the evening dancing.
“But how could this be?” proclaimed the old king. Surely, he would’ve known! Surely, he would’ve heard the music.
Or not.
I once unleashed a bottled thunderstorm right beside his head, and he merely waved his hand before his nose and muttered, “Dear me, so sorry. Must tell the cook to leave out the beans.”
And so the king devised a little plan to find out where his daughters disappeared to each night. He announced to the kingdom: “Whosoever discovers where my twelve daughters go each evening will get to choose one of them for a wife!”
You know how this part goes.
All the men showed up. There were princes and paupers, magicians, and even a magpie (the magpie claimed he was actually a prince in disguise, but no one could really confirm this). But it was the gardener’s handsome young assistant who discovered the princesses’ secret. (Thanks to me, of course!Iwas the one who told him, and only because I was bored and he offered to share some pie with me.) Each night they disappeared into fairyland to dance the night away, and each morning they collapsed into their beds to sleep. As his reward, the gardener’s assistant chose the youngest, most beautiful princess for himself. I suppose he became a king in his own right, although who would ever entrust matters of diplomatic niceties to someone whose sole responsibility had been to spread manure on the flower beds? On second thought, perhaps that’s quite fitting.
And that is where the story ends.
But that is not whereourstory ends.
You see, there were eleven other princesses.
And one of them was named Imelda.
***
Here isanotheronce upon a time.
Once upon a time, there was an old king with three strapping sons. On his deathbed, he could not decide which of the three princes should become his heir, and so he issued a quest. Whosoever could vanquish the three dragons that had been terrorizing the king’s grove of heirloom tomatoes would get the throne. The eldest brother, who was proud and strong, went to the north side of the grove and chopped off the first dragon’s head. The youngest brother, who was charming and handsome, went to the south side, only to discover that the second dragon was in fact a lovely princess cursed to become a beast after she’d mocked a witch’s handbag. He didn’t wish to chop off her head, so instead he kissed her and won her hand.
The middle brother, who was quiet and clever, went west.
He found the last dragon and demanded to know what in the world it was doing in his father’s tomato garden.
“If you must know, the tomatoes on this side of the grove have been grown from the poisoned waters of a nearby pool. I’ve been incinerating them so they wouldn’t affect the population and local flora and fauna.”
The middle brother couldn’t argue with that.
He gave the dragon an official medal so that at least these incinerations would be sanctioned by the kingdom, and went back home.
The king declared the eldest brother his heir even though it didn’t seem very vanquish-y to cut off the head of a particular creature who was just doing his ecological and civic duty. But that is how some things are. And so the eldest brother became a king, and although it pains me to say it, he hasn’t done a half-bad job of ruling.
The youngest brother was quite content to lose out on the kingdom because now he had a fair princess, and she had her own kingdom that was conveniently lacking male heirs, and off he went.
That is where the story ends.
But that is not whereourstory ends.
You see, the middle brother’s fate was quite undecided.
His name was Ambrose.
***
Nearly there, I promise.
The king from the first tale invited neighboring kingdoms from far and wide to celebrate the marriage of his daughter to the former gardener’s assistant. You might recall that this daughter was one of the twelve dancing princesses. The event was host to much pomp and gossip, and although the decor was a touch gaudy and the wine was noticeably watered down, the guests thoroughly enjoyed themselves, and the whole family was equally disappointed, which is the best that can be hoped for when it comes to weddings.
It was at this celebration that Imelda and Ambrose fell in love and decided to wed.
