of yours? It was every
fault of yours. He looks, suddenly, like Gods revenge against murder. Have we taught you nothing? How many
times have we told youcautioned youabout spindles? It was the first word you learned, the
last thing you heard before bed at night, the one lesson of any import: Do not touch
spindles. And you forgot itignored it?
I said I was sorry. Sorry? Do you not understand that we are ruined? Ruined? Father is
making quite a fuss. Certainly it is inconvenient, but Inconvenient! Talia, do you not understand? Could you be so stupid? I feel tears springing to my eyes yet again. He has never spoken to me in this manner.
Father, your voice. Everyone will hear you.
What does it matter? If, as you say, we have all slept these three hundred years, we are
ruined, destroyedyou, I, the entire kingdom. We have no kingdom. We have no trade. We have
no allies to defend us. Mark my words, it will not be long before everyone realizes that
my daughter is the stupidest girl on earth.
But . . . but . . . I can hold back my tears no longer, and when I look at my father, I
see something horrible. He is struggling to hold back his own. My father, the king, the
most powerful man in all Euphrasia, is weeping, and it is my fault, all my fault.
It was a mistake!
You cared for no one but yourself, Talia, and we are paying the price. It would have been
better had you engaged in any other youthful indiscretionrunning away, even elopingrather
than this one. This has affected everyone, and it is unforgivable.
My fathers words strike like daggers. He would rather see me gone than have me do what I
did. He hates me.
I am sorry, Father.
He looks at the floor. Perhaps, Talia, you ought to go to your room.
Yes. Perhaps I should go and never come outwhich is probably what is planned for me,
anyway. I nod and start for the door. Then I remember something I must tell him, although at this point, I would much rather not. Still, if Father despises me, I have
nothing to lose. I have already ruined everything.
Father? What is it now, Talia? The boy, the one who woke me from my sleep . . . I have invited him to stay at the castle and to have supper with us.
Father stares at me. Supper? Yes. It seemed the proper thing to do. He makes an attempt to
straighten his shoulders but fails. Yes. The word comes out as a sigh. Yes, I suppose it is.
And then, before I can say anything else, Father turns on his heel and leaves. I wait a
minute to make sure he is gone before leaving the room myself.
I am passing through the guest chambers on the way to my own room when I hear a voice.
Excuse me? Talia? Um, Your Highness. I stop. Jack! They must have placed him in this room.
I approach the door. Yes? Indeed, it is him. This commoner, this boy I am sup-
posed to marry, this nobody who has ruined everything. And yet . . . he is wearing more
appropriate clothing, in which he looks handsome, yet quite uncomfortable at the same
time, as befits a member of the nobility. Um, sorry to bother you, Princess. No bother. Although, in truth, I would much rather be alone with my grief. My face burns.
Soon, everyone will know of my stupidity and humiliation, that I have ruined the kingdom,
and soon I will be the most ruined of all.
Your dad seemed upset. I nod, unable to speak. So he had heard. But what he said, Mr. Jack
ONeill continues, about the hundred years sleep? Three hundred. Right. Sorry. Three hundred! We have slept three
hundred years,
and we are ruined, and it is all my fault. I try not to sob again. Were I a few years (or
a few hundred years) younger, I could throw myself on the floor with impunity, but as it
is, I simply stand there, gasping for breath.
Jack stands there, too, looking down. I wonder if he heard Father call me the stupidest
girl on earth. Probably the whole castle did. Finally, he says, Can I get you some- thing,
like a Kleenex? I have no idea what a
fault of yours. He looks, suddenly, like Gods revenge against murder. Have we taught you nothing? How many
times have we told youcautioned youabout spindles? It was the first word you learned, the
last thing you heard before bed at night, the one lesson of any import: Do not touch
spindles. And you forgot itignored it?
I said I was sorry. Sorry? Do you not understand that we are ruined? Ruined? Father is
making quite a fuss. Certainly it is inconvenient, but Inconvenient! Talia, do you not understand? Could you be so stupid? I feel tears springing to my eyes yet again. He has never spoken to me in this manner.
Father, your voice. Everyone will hear you.
What does it matter? If, as you say, we have all slept these three hundred years, we are
ruined, destroyedyou, I, the entire kingdom. We have no kingdom. We have no trade. We have
no allies to defend us. Mark my words, it will not be long before everyone realizes that
my daughter is the stupidest girl on earth.
But . . . but . . . I can hold back my tears no longer, and when I look at my father, I
see something horrible. He is struggling to hold back his own. My father, the king, the
most powerful man in all Euphrasia, is weeping, and it is my fault, all my fault.
It was a mistake!
You cared for no one but yourself, Talia, and we are paying the price. It would have been
better had you engaged in any other youthful indiscretionrunning away, even elopingrather
than this one. This has affected everyone, and it is unforgivable.
My fathers words strike like daggers. He would rather see me gone than have me do what I
did. He hates me.
I am sorry, Father.
He looks at the floor. Perhaps, Talia, you ought to go to your room.
Yes. Perhaps I should go and never come outwhich is probably what is planned for me,
anyway. I nod and start for the door. Then I remember something I must tell him, although at this point, I would much rather not. Still, if Father despises me, I have
nothing to lose. I have already ruined everything.
Father? What is it now, Talia? The boy, the one who woke me from my sleep . . . I have invited him to stay at the castle and to have supper with us.
Father stares at me. Supper? Yes. It seemed the proper thing to do. He makes an attempt to
straighten his shoulders but fails. Yes. The word comes out as a sigh. Yes, I suppose it is.
And then, before I can say anything else, Father turns on his heel and leaves. I wait a
minute to make sure he is gone before leaving the room myself.
I am passing through the guest chambers on the way to my own room when I hear a voice.
Excuse me? Talia? Um, Your Highness. I stop. Jack! They must have placed him in this room.
I approach the door. Yes? Indeed, it is him. This commoner, this boy I am sup-
posed to marry, this nobody who has ruined everything. And yet . . . he is wearing more
appropriate clothing, in which he looks handsome, yet quite uncomfortable at the same
time, as befits a member of the nobility. Um, sorry to bother you, Princess. No bother. Although, in truth, I would much rather be alone with my grief. My face burns.
Soon, everyone will know of my stupidity and humiliation, that I have ruined the kingdom,
and soon I will be the most ruined of all.
Your dad seemed upset. I nod, unable to speak. So he had heard. But what he said, Mr. Jack
ONeill continues, about the hundred years sleep? Three hundred. Right. Sorry. Three hundred! We have slept three
hundred years,
and we are ruined, and it is all my fault. I try not to sob again. Were I a few years (or
a few hundred years) younger, I could throw myself on the floor with impunity, but as it
is, I simply stand there, gasping for breath.
Jack stands there, too, looking down. I wonder if he heard Father call me the stupidest
girl on earth. Probably the whole castle did. Finally, he says, Can I get you some- thing,
like a Kleenex? I have no idea what a
Similar Books
