"Anyway, Percinet wants to marry her, but she won't because of her... problem, you know." Ding-Dong looked at me pointedly.

"I get it," I said.

"Where did you leave off?" Ding-Dong asked. "I don't want to start from the beginning; the story is way too long."

"Where I left off, the fairy turned her into a boy, handed her a mirror, and disappeared."

Ding-Dong flipped through the pages until she found the place, and began reading.

The Princess sat on the ground beneath a tree and stayed there for a long time in stunned silence. She studied herself in the mirror. She looked at her arms, legs, and feet. She felt her chest and hips. Everything had changed. She was a boy, and nothing but a boy: a peasant boy, a sturdy farm-working boy — a good-looking boy, in fact — but a boy nonetheless.

"Oh, wicked Grognon!" she cried—

"Blah blah blah," Ding-Dong said, interrupting the story. "She complains for a long time. Skipping over..."

Until now, the Princess had lived a life of ease. "It's clear that another life awaits me," she said, "unless and until this enchantment can be broken! Oh, that I had Percinet to help me!"

Unfortunately, in her present state, it was unlikely that Percinet would ever recognize her. "... if he could even find me!" she wailed. She collapsed beneath the tree and wept, disconsolate.

At last, however, her hunger and thirst overcame her sadness and dismay, and the boy-princess stood and began to walk.

As she walked, she reasoned with herself. "First of all," she reckoned, "I will need a name: Marcel will do quite nicely. Then I shall need employment, so I can feed and clothe myself. Finally, I must find my way to my father's kingdom and tell him what has happened!"

She decided that the easiest way to accomplish all her goals at once was to find a job at sea. "If only I can find a ship, bound for my father's land!" But first, she must needs find the sea.
 

---

 

Back at the castle, Percinet lay on a bed, slowly recovering from his wounds. He was not hurt gravely, but as yet he could neither sit up nor walk. Since his bed lay in the servant's quarters, he could not send word to anyone for help. He spent most of his days alone, excepting the moments when a fellow servant brought him food and gossip.

The first news he heard was that Grognon was anxiously following the progress of his recovery. She had never been served by such a handsome page, and she was looking forward to having him by her side at every possible moment. It was fortunate for Percinet that Grognon, too, was confined to her bed: otherwise, she would have been at his side, nursing and nagging him back to health. Thank goodness for small favors!

The second bit of news he received was that Princess Marcelline had been locked in the dungeon as punishment for the trick she supposedly played on Grognon, of giving her the much-too-spirited horse to ride.

The third thing he was told was that Princess Marcelline was so overcome with despair and guilt that she hung herself in the dungeon and was dead, mourned, and buried.

As he lay in dejection, cast down by the death of his one true love, he heard one last piece of information. It was told to him in a whisper, but as a sure and certain fact: His gossip let him know that the Princess had not died at all, but only disappeared, and that a log had been placed in a casket and buried in her grave.

Percinet sighed with impatience and regret. He needed to get word to his mother, who was a fairy, and could surely help him find the lost princess. However, everyone thought the poor boy was simply a servant, so he could do nothing but wait until he had the strength to leave the castle and journey home himself.
 

---

 

Marcel, the boy-princess walked and walked for a great long way. She drank water from a stream not far from the path, and ate berries and mushrooms, but she was very hungry.

She slept for a night beneath a tree, cold and afraid. When at last the sun woke her, she began to walk again.

At length, she came upon a road. Not knowing which way to go, she sniffed the breeze. Because the air was dry and warm, and smelt nothing like the sea, she turned and kept the wind at her back.

"Snore!" Ding-Dong commented. "She walks for a long way. Skipping over... She meets an old lady and tells her that he's looking for work."

"He?" I asked.

"The Princess," Ding-Dong clarified, and resumed the reading.

"You can work for my husband," the old woman said. "He is an ogre, but you mustn't take account of that. He's a gentle soul, and you'll find he's fair to a good worker."

"I am a good worker," Marcel promised. "But I need to find work upon the sea."

"I wish you luck with that!" the old woman laughed. "The sea is farther than than you can dream, my lad! You might walk for the rest of your life before you found the sea."

The boy looked so downcast at this remark that the old woman felt compelled to add, "And yet, my husband might find a way. He may know the means... There may be travelers... traders... We shall see."

With that vague promise, the boy-princess agreed to the bargain, and off the two went together.

As it happened, not only did the ogre live far from the sea, he lived halfway up a mountain, where he pastured cows and tended flocks of goats on the high grassy plains.

As Marcel and the old woman climbed, they came upon a beautiful blue belt, lying on the ground near the path.

"Oh, how lovely!" the boy-princess cried, forgetting for a moment that he was no longer a girl.

"Don't touch it!" the old woman warned. "It's likely bewitched. Leave it be! Come away! Come away, I say!"

And so the boy-princess left the lovely belt lying by the wayside, but she carried its image away in her mind.

Soon, when the old woman's age bore down upon her and she wearied of the climb, the two travelers stopped and sat beneath a scrub oak.

Marcel bethought himself of the blue belt, and decided to run back and take it. He told the old woman, "I have some business in the bushes yon." Instead, he snuck off down the hill and found the lovely belt still lying where he'd first seen it. He took it up, admired its beauty and workmanship — for it really was a fine thing — and fastened it round his waist.

Lo and behold! The instant the belt was closed round his waist, a change came over the boy. The old woman was right: the belt was bewitched! And what did it do, but change the boy back to the form of the beautiful Princess Marcelline.
 

---

 

Percinet at long last found the strength to rise from his bed. In the dark early morning, he saddled his horse with great difficulty and rode with great pain to his mother's castle. Once there, he fell from the horse and was carried to his bed. His injuries were seen to, and his mother set a charm to speed his healing.

"But you must lie still," she cautioned, "and let the charm do its work."

Soon enough Percinet was up and about, still weak, but quite definitely on the mend. In the meanwhile, his mother had searched the world with her fairy mirror but found no trace of the lovely lost princess.

After she had done all that she could do alone, she left Percinet to wander impatiently through her garden while she went to confer with her fairy brethren.
 

---

 

Princess Marcelline, with the help of her small mirror, examined herself as thoroughly as she could. She was pleased to discover that she was in every way her old self once again, from the soles of her feet to the ends of her soft, shining hair. Her clothes, on the other hand, were those of a peasant girl. There was nothing of a princess there; her outfit better suited a milkmaid than a lady of the court.

Still, it was a great improvement, and filled with delight, she skipped her way up the path to join the old woman beneath the tree. Once there, she told the hag that she'd met a peasant boy, who was running down the hill. "He said he was afraid to work for an ogre," the princess said, "So I hoped I could go in his place."

The old lady was more than pleased! Even though her ogre of a husband needed a young man to help with his herds, he would no doubt be happy to welcome a young and pretty girl.

You see, what the old woman said was true: the ogre treated fairly (and even kindly) any young man who labored hard and well. On the other hand, regarding the fairer sex, he was a true ogre indeed. He had a large, special pot, just the right size for a young pretty lady, and he would cook the princess into stew at the very first opportunity.

Of course, the old woman kept this fact to herself. She simply told the Princess that a warm welcome awaited her.

The house in the mountains was not much farther, and the two women reached it just as the sun fell from the sky. As you can imagine, the ogre was very glad to see their guest, and he laid a feast before her, thinking to fatten her up.

The Princess, for all her fine manners and good breeding, fell upon the food, for she was famished. After the girl had eaten her fill, the old woman led her to a neat little bedroom with a clean little bed. Once the Princess found herself alone, she found that the belt was too uncomfortable to wear throughout the night. And so, with great reluctance she unfastened it. Instantly she found herself transformed once again into the form of the peasant boy.

With a heavy sigh, she lay the belt lengthwise in the bed and fell asleep upon it.

The ogre waited until he heard the slow, sleeping breaths of his young guest. He crept into the bedroom, ready to toss the girl into a bag and pop her into his stew. Already the carrots and onions were aboil; all that was lacking was the delightful guest.

Imagine the ogre's surprise and disappointment when he found — in the place of a young, pert maiden — a robust young man! He called his wife, who recognized the lad, but had no explanation of how he'd gotten in, or where the girl had gone.

They quietly withdrew and went to bed mightly confused.

"Oof!" Ding-Dong complained, working her jaw to the right and left. "My mouth muscles hurt from all this reading."

"Sorry," I offered.

"Let me skip ahead," Ding-Dong said. "She milks the cows, she milks the goats. She works hard, so the ogre and his wife like her, but every night when the ogre goes to cut her head off, he finds the boy instead."

"Is the story much longer?" I asked. "It seems like it will never end!"

"Oh, don't worry, it ends," she said. "But yes, it is much longer."

"Then skip," I said.

"All right: finally one night the old lady peeks through a crack when the Princess goes to bed. Then she understands about the blue belt, and she tells the ogre. But they still don't know what to do. The ogre is afraid that if he boils the girl, she might turn into the boy, and if he boils her with the belt, the enchantment might go into the stew."

"So he's afraid he might turn into a girl when he eats it?"

"I guess. Anyway... Percinet's mother goes to talk with the other fairies, and she finds out about the spell on Marcelline. Now that she knows, she locates the Princess. She and Percinet rescue the girl just before the ogre decides to cook her anyway."

"Oh, man!" I said, shaking my head. "It's like they took every complication they could think of, and threw it into this story!"

"You know what's really weird? It says in the notes that this story comes from a French fairy tale, and that most of the crazy stuff is in the original."

"I can't imagine what *that* story could possibly be like," I said.

"Anyway, Percinet wants to marry her, but she won't because of her... problem, you know." Ding-Dong looked at me pointedly.

"I get it," I said, giving her the same pointed look.

"Plus, she wants to see what's happening back home, so they use his mother's magic mirror. Marcelline sees her father crying because he misses her, so she insists that Percinet take her there — back to her father's castle. Percinet gets all mad and doesn't want to do it, but in the end she convinces him.

"At first the King is all happy to see her, but Grognon says she's an imposter, and throws her in the dungeon again. This time she doesn't want to kill her. She decides to torment her instead. Grognon calls her fairy friend, but this time they argue. The fairy can't understand how the Princess changed back. Grognon is angry with the fairy for having failed her."

Belle turned pages, searching. "And then what happens? I forget... Oh! There is this nice little bit with the little people..." She placed a finger on the page and began reading again.

Grognon told the fairy, "This time I will keep the girl under my hand. I wish to punish her, and to have each day a difficult piece of work, which she will never be able to finish, so that I may beat her as much as I like. Help me to find these difficult tasks."

The fairy soon returned with a coil as large as a person, made of thread so fine that it broke if you barely breathed upon it. In addition, the thread was so tangled and knotted that it you couldn't see where it ended or began. Grognon was delighted. She sent for the Princess and told her, "Now, my dear, this job may be difficult for a ham-fisted girl like yourself, but it must be done. I want you to wind this thread for me into a proper ball, but if you break the least little bit of it, I will flay you alive with my own hands. You may take your time and start whenever you like, as long as the work is done by sundown."

Then, cackling like the old witch she was, Grognon locked the door with a triple lock, set two guards outside the door, and two outside the window.

"Ummph!" Belle groaned, massaging her jaw. "This story is too long! Anyway, she calls Percinet, who magically appears, and he does it with his magic wand."

"So he's magical now?"

"I guess he always was, but he was saving it."

"Belle, is it worth going on?"

"Oh, there's a cute part coming up... and don't you want to know how it ends?"

"I don't know... do I?"

© 2008 by Kaleigh Way

[OTHER STORIES]