Maybe

The princess's gorgeous blood-red, angel-sleeved gown extended into a train. She had a crown of roses, all the petals plucked off and the stems twisted with the thorns sticking straight up and down. She was in all darkness, the cold, damp Medieval castle her only company. She didn’t mind. She was the princess of the kingdom. But she was lonely. Save for ordering the servants around, she needed someone in her life. Her mother, the good-natured queen of the land, reigned supreme with delicious generosity, always leaving the castle to aid the poor and needy. She, the princess, stayed in her castle, on her throne bed. Well, it was a throne she stretched into a bed. 

She just didn’t understand what the hurry was all about whenever her mother told her she’d be gone in a few days’ time. Going to help those peasants!         

“I will never rule like her! I can make my own decisions.” The woman lay down on her back on the stone floor, looking into the darkness. She slid one foot towards her, leaving the other leg outstretched. She sighed. Mother doesn’t always know. Just because she reigns now, doesn’t mean I’m the next queen!          

She got up and headed towards the daylight from outside. It was pretty dark in the castle—pitch dark, as described by its staunchly loyal guards. Suddenly, a simultaneous creak of metal sounded as all guards and knights standing in front of the semi-mossed-covered, torch-lit walls saluted her.

She ignored them. Yes, worship me. You’ll be the first ones when everyone else submits, too! Standing right next to a woman with a long train of starch white satin and gold-threaded sparrows and her pearl crown, the princess looked out into the massive group of maidens, chambermaids, farmhands, peasants, poor families, orphans, working children and farmhands.

“Honey.” Her mother’s hand touched her own. “Please be patient. Your coronation may not be as long as you think. Just wait,” she turned to the cheering crowd, and waved, a wide smile on her lips, “for a place for you! And your servants, husband, pets and, of course, you.”

The princess had slid her eyes up to her mother without turning her head, a small paper-thin smile on her almost white thin face. She squinted her eyes. Yes, so that your footsteps will be replaced by mine!

“So, the first thing you need to do is wave to everyone!”                

The princess imitated her mother’s joyous waving. She smiled bright.

“See, Mother? Everyone loves me!”

“Just be a princess! You’ll be queen, and then you’ll have to do this every day.” She retorted.

“Yes, ma’am!” The princess muttered to herself.

Soon, her mother left the enamored crowds with a blessing—to which everyone hailed her as their queen forever. The princess waited for this to end, and then proceeded to steal her subjects’ attention.            

Some women in tight curls and stained cotton peasant dresses looked at her eagerly, and she reached out a hand, taking each one. “You’ll get them back—when they’re clean.”

The women frowned, confused. Then she told everyone to hold their breath.

Inside, the princess looked around for a servant. They all seemed pretty busy right now. She came out onto the balcony. “Oops—everyone's too busy to wash them!” She dropped them, one of the women catching them just before they hit the dirt. Sighing, she stuffed them in her pockets, like one of the submissive working girls.

“I’ve done enough laundry.” She muttered, looking at her two companions beside her. One of them knitted her eyebrows, nodding furtively. The other said something about getting tired of doing all the laundry. The princess told this one to be quiet. She listened. She even played with her grey kitchen maid dress. The main one asked whether they could have off today. The princess laughed.              

"You’ll just do more, Devin, for that statement.”                 

The woman swallowed, hopelessness sliding down through her veins like rain on a window. After a speech, she waved all her subjects goodbye and then headed back into the palace. As she headed towards the hallway with the saluting guards and knights, a voice called out to her. She stopped reluctantly.  

“Yes, Mother? I was heading to my room.”

“Honey, we need to talk. You know better than to address the courtyard without my permission! Why are you so insistent on doing things your own way, hm?”

The princess explained, but the mother took her daughter’s chin in her hands, the queen soothing her, bringing her close to her heart. “There, there, honey. It’s going to be okay. Just trust me. I’m your mother. We’ll figure this out together, okay?” They went into the queen’s chambers.              

The princess nodded, looking right up at her. “Yes, ma’am!”

“How are you going to become the next queen if you can’t obey?” The queen looked at her in the mirror.

“I don’t know, Mother. I just…” The princess shrugged. “I just…can’t seem to focus. Bad dreams?”                

Her mother laughed. “No, honey. We don’t give excuses. We love. We wave to the crowds. And, most importantly, we give, cherish, celebrate, forgive and forget, right?” Her eyes sparkled. “Right?” She hurried over to her daughter, twirling her. The princess stayed the same.

“Mother, that stuff’s for you. I don’t do that stuff.” Shuddering, she said, “Just keep it to yourself.”

As the princess left, her mother muttered sadly about her own daughter’s disapproval of her encouragement.

Oh, I look up, Mother. I always do. And always will. She walked through the hallway, the knights and guards saluting. Shivers ran up one guard’s back.     

“You cold?”

“No!” The guard laughed. “I’m not. You see me standing right here in front of the fiery torch? I’m practically babysitting it!”

Relaxing against her blood-red and silver emblazoned throne, the princess started barking orders for the guards and the knights to get some torches in here. It was too dark, the princess complained. 

“What about a fire?” suggested one, his teeth chattering.

The princess consented. Then she pushed the other armrest away from her, stretching her throne into a bed. She relaxed like she had just got done with a hard day's labor and needed some rest. Wrapping herself in her dress, she wished for a companion. Making Devin, Angelica and Lucinda slave for crusts of bread and sips of lukewarm water until their gravestones stared back at her entertained her—    

“I need someone to be with. I’m so lonely.” She switched sides, lying on her back. How could I? They never listen. So slow. When are they going to realize I’m just not the type to rule in my mother’s footsteps? Then she smiled, “Yeah, a raven. What future queen doesn’t like a little friend who can talk back—and, more importantly, give orders?”

She barked orders again, and Devin appeared, bowing low before Her Majesty. The princess told her to go fetch the silkiest raven. She nodded, departing. The princess switched positions, laying on her stomach, her face turned towards the entrance of her throne room. She let her mind run, her wickedly pretty face allowing a small smile to creep onto it.                               

The princess went onto the balcony, but the maidens’ and seamstresses’ faces radiated seriousness. The princess smiled at them, but their hands stayed right by their sides, defiance the name of the game here. Some said they wished the queen mother’s joy and love for her people were here to brighten the atmosphere. Everyone cheered.   

“Anyway,” the princess began, “to all you favorite people out there. Welcome to a new day! And, more importantly, to my speech.”

“But your mother hasn’t given permission.” A voice whipped the princess around. 

The mother queen's words were drowned out by the praises of her subjects. She went right up to the balcony, grabbing the hands of small braided girls, their cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. Some jumped up and down, clamoring for the queen, but she clasped their hands warmly, telling them how blessed she was to be their monarch. The princess watched silently, then moved to the other side. Lucinda, Devin and Angelica curtsied obligatorily.                           

When her mother nodded, the princess began her speech. The threesome—Devin, Angelica and Lucinda—all looked at each other. They tried sneaking away, but Devin pulled them back, warning them. When she pointed her finger backward, Lucinda and Angelica looked at the princess, who was done talking.

She winked.                                                     

The mother queen's speech reigned over the silent crowd. Afterward, she blew a kiss to everyone, and the mothers' babies smiled, some clapping their hands. "And now," the princess started, "remember you're in good hands."

Dead silence.

Smiling self-righteously, her grin slipped down into a murderously straight line when the mother interrupted. The princess stormed inside the castle, shrieking to the guards to close the doors and ordering the servants to carry her. She was immediately lifted up into her carrier, spitting that they should all drop her off right up above the previous balcony—the queen’s balcony, the highest one.                          

Getting out just before these doors, the princess flung them open, and addressed her subjects, haughtiness echoing throughout the atmosphere. The farmhands wished the queen mother was speaking. Her eyes glittered maliciously as she spoke every word out loud to everyone.

Not even a cricket chirped.

“No, no, no!” The princess retorted in a sickly sweet tone. “Please—by all means, eat some grain and fruit, and sit awhile.”   

No one heeded.     

Some of the little girls cried, turning toward their mothers. The women held them, soothing their hair and speaking softly. The cooks’ faces were etched with worry.

“Oh, you don’t want to make this an event!” She leaned out, both hands gripping the balcony rim. “Oh, poor you. I’m so sorry you have to hear this—”                    

“Shut your mouth, and let the mother queen continue her reign. In love and splendor!”

“Yes, sir!” The princess said in mock respect. Suddenly, roars of approval chorused simultaneously. The princess's eyes shot to the threesome. Longing to be embraced by the mother queen herself was displayed on nearly every woman present!

The princess retreated quietly into the castle. Calling some servant girls, she took her throne. They stood before her immediately.                              

Only Devin bowed low and fearful. The princess beckoned her. She went over, getting on her knees. “Whatever my princess wants, that I’ll do!”            

Her voice dripped with loyalty. 

The princess held out her hands, and Devin got up, clasping them instantly. “Devin, you’re a lot like my mother—loving, loyal to her kingdom, joyful, peaceful and, most importantly, kind to others. How? How do you do so?”                 

“Well, Your Majesty,” Devin began, fear exhaling like puffs of air on a cold winter’s night, “your mother is just…” She exhaled, shaking her head, “just the best. I can’t imagine a royal reign without her. She’s just…the best queen. Ever. She’ll always reign the way she is, because she’s the best monarch! I can’t believe we live under and, more importantly, serve an amazing woman.” 

Devin’s plaudits were like nails on a chalkboard. The princess stretched a smile onto her face—Angelica and Lucinda shivered, muttering about needing wool blankets, like, right now.

"Are we dismissed, Your Majesty?"

"Yes, just remember how obedient and loyal you are to me. Wow! I couldn't ask for better servants. I don't think I could ever imagine better service, either, from the rest of the castle, either. You three really believe in yourself to humbly follow orders."

Angelica and Lucinda exchanged excited looks with one another, Devin having eaten up her flattery the most. As they ran off, she nestled into her throne, watching them leave. She turned it into a bed again. Ordering a pillow and blanket, the princess snatched the poor girl's things and told her to gather Angelica, Devin and Lucinda tomorrow back here.

“Yes, Your Majesty!” She scurried off.  

Wrapping her dress around herself—for she changed her mind about lying on a pillow and blanket given by a slave girl—she entertained thoughts of her future reign as queen.

Devin, Angelica and Lucinda all gathered around the princess, who was interrupted by her mother. When she left to go talk with the crowd up on the highest balcony, the princess ordered for her door to be shut. It was. She continued, ignoring the hailings of the maidens and chambermaids. With the queen busy, the princess reminded Devin of that pet raven.                            

“Oh, yes!” Devin skittered off, running. Angelica and Lucinda asked permission to talk about Devin to each other for a minute upon her return. The princess lay on her throne nonchalantly.      

After the girls came back, the princess told them to sit before her throne.

Something flew over their heads. They all looked up, watching the bird visible by torchlight fly around, cawing. The princess looked up and simply put out a hand, and the raven landed perfectly onto it. As she stroked it, she looked over and snarled, “Get up off the floor. You’ll soil your clothes, and you’ll be washing them instead of obeying my orders.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” The girls nodded, Devin scampering up. The princess studied her, admiring her devotion. But she also saw a little betrayal in those olive eyes. The princess returned to the raven.

As the days grew into years, Angelica and Lucinda, and especially Devin, obeyed Her Highness the princess, but Angelica and Lucinda secretly stayed undyingly loyal to the queen (Devin too fearful to stop serving the princess but also too devoted to the queen mother, too). Angelica and Lucinda told Devin never to breathe a word that they were serving the queen only. Devin promised. Angelica and Lucinda begged Devin to join them. She justified herself with the fact that the princess would punish them.

Somehow. They were warned.     

Entering her throne room, Angelica, Lucinda and Devin said, “Your Majesty, we’re all done with—”

“Go check with the servants. They’re always busy.” The princess cooed to her raven. “I’m sorry, Devin, that you’re a serving girl.” She said sadly.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Devin bowed low.

One night, while Devin was in her small pitiful room with her friends, Lucinda and Angelica told her to just serve the mother-queen. Her stomach turned somersaults and then squeezed into knots. She shook her head, muttering she didn't know what to do.

“I know it’s scary, but it’s necessary.” Angelica encouraged. Lucinda bobbed her head.         

Over the years, the princess saw that Devin’s friends were loyal to only her mother. One day, while the princess rested comfortably in her throne, she said sweetly, “Please, make yourself comfortable, Devin. I have much to tell you!”

Fear sucked all the moisture out of Devin's mouth.

“Who will you serve—your queen, or me?”

Suddenly, Devin wanted to laugh—laugh right in her face, pick her up and put her in the stocks. However, she bowed stiffly, saying, “I've seen the rewards our mother gives for serving her. I've also seen your blessings. So I choose my queen.”

The girls, who the princess saw had come into the room, braced themselves for the princess’s wrath.

“Go ahead—serve the queen, traitor!” The princess lamented.

Devin bowed, and left. Relieved to go back to her chambers with the girls, she related the news.

The princess held up her finger, and her raven landed. “You're my companion, aren't you?”

It cawed.                

The next day, the queen and her daughter were outside again. The queen was way up high, while the princess stayed down on the first balcony. While the queen announced in a loud voice over the swooning of the crowd, the princess studied all the faces of the poorest. The farmhands and the chambermaids cut their eyes to and from the queen to the princess. Then they settled for the queen, the chambermaids and cooks and cloth-waving servant women lifting prayers of hope and peace for this kingdom.

The princess's poisonous glances caught some people's eye, causing them to lower their gaze and bow in reverence.

Yes, listen to me! One day, I'll—

“Darling!”

Her mother's arm wrapped around her daughter, and she announced they would reign forever. Almost all the royal courtyard cheered. The farmhands, maidens and working children cried silently. They glared up at her, the princess looking down at the children. She picked her mother's hand off of her shoulder with two fingers like it was a big, hairy spider. Turning her body towards her mother, she kept her eyes on them, a slow, cold smile sliding up her face. And then she looked away completely, pretending to listen to her mother.

When her mother's speech was over, the princess stretched and yawned. Devin, Lucinda and Angelica didn’t even bat an eyelash, she noticed, as they grinned lovingly up at the queen, strength emanating from every truthful word the mother used to continue talking.

The princess studied them, not allowing anyone, even her mother, to distract her now. Venomous thoughts slithered through her mind. Devin, Angelica and Lucinda looked at the princess, Devin smiled, mouthing that her mother deserved such honor. The princess just nodded, as she knew she couldn't interrupt her mother. But those eyes told a completely different story.

Angelica said she felt a coldness like winter had come early but without the snow. Lucinda just tried warming herself as quickly as possible.

Decades passed before Devin unleashed the news about the princess to Her Majesty the queen.

The princess ran away.

A beggar, she warmed herself by her fire. And waited for her mother to die. She went off, living on bread and cheese and fruit. Sooner or later, the queen died.

The princess made her move. She tried subduing her own kingdom, but the kingdom rose up, defeating the princess. She became curious about the joy and love her mother gave so freely. The kingdom reminded her of those traits. But Devin told the courtyard one day that the princess was false, imitating her mother but inwardly being a rotten soul. So the princess escaped. The kingdom looked for a rightful ruler.

Finally, they crowned one. Devin ruled better than Her Majesty the Queen.

Never did she have children. Never did she marry.