Princess Prince, Elizabeth A. Freeman [free novel reading sites TXT] 📗

Prologue

A woman's intermittent screams of agony echoed through the stone chamber, the throes of labor wracking her delicate body with spasms of unending pain. One midwife watched over the blond with fretful tired eyes that knew too well that after two days of labor that the woman before her could not survive much longer.

"My Queen... Please try to push one more time..." Abigail coaxed, wiping the sweat from the Queen's pale brow. Several other servants gathered nearby, tending to their queen as best as they could.

"I'm so tired, Nanny... I'm not sure I can anymore.." Queen Nausicaa exhaled as the labor pains ebbed momentarily, her bright blue eyes were bloodshot and her normally well manicured hair fell about her heaving shoulders like a wild blond mane.

"I know, I know.. Just try once more for me.." Abigail whispered, knowing that if the baby was still alive it must be delivered before the queen died. Queen Nausicaa nodded weakly and then set her jaw and gave one last desperate push to try to deliver the unborn life trapped within her dying body. Something shifted just slightly within the Queen but it was enough to push the child free and Abigail cradled the baby, immediately cleaning off it's face to clear it's mouth of excess fluid.

"Sandra! Emily! Attend to the Queen!" Abigail called as she turned her full attention on the small life in her arms. With a bit of effort the child let out a wail as it took in it's first breath of air.

"A-abigail.... The Queen.." Sandra's voice was barely a whisper, but the tone made Abigail's blood freeze in her veins. Turning slowly she looked upon the face of Queen Nausicaa Gratien VIII which was still, sapphire eyes stared blankly at the ceiling and her lips were unmoving.

"Oh heavens no..." Abigail whispered as the baby in her arms wailed again, as though even the child knew that it's mother no longer breathed. The Queen had used her very last ounce of strength to give birth to the child.

"Nanny Abigail... What do we do?" Emily, who was one of the youngest among the servant girls whimpered. Abigail bit back the emotion that fought to come to the surface, steeling herself for it was her job to manage these sort of things.

"Cover her Highness' body and call his Highness. Let him know of what has occurred." Abigail discharged the orders and turned her attention to the infant once more, studying the child more closely. As she gazed at the infant something she had missed registered in her mind and she tensed as she studied the small body. She dare not say anything though until the King entered the chamber, and instead called for one of the castle wet nurses to tend for the child since the Queen could not.

"Nausicaa! Nausicaa, my love!" the cry could be heard seconds after the thundering race of footsteps. King Ambrosius threw open the chamber doors and raced to the limp figure collapsed in the bed and sinking down beside her as if in disbelief. Abigail watched quietly, waiting for the King to address her. Ambrosius' stared down into Nausicaa's face as tears started to stream from his eyes, his face contorted in suffering as he embraced the Queen's lifeless body. It was only after several moments that the King regained his composure and rose to face Abigail, his crimson eyes locking on the baby in her arms.

"The Princess lives?" King Ambrosius spoke barely above a whisper, his voice raw from sobbing over his beloved's death. A muscle tightened in Abigail's jaw, fear curling up her spine as she realized that she must tell the truth to the King.

"Your Highness, the child is alive... However the baby is a Prince.." Abigail hesitantly answered and offered the infant to Ambrosius for him to inspect. King Ambrosius raised an eyebrow as though the nursemaid might be playing a cruel joke on him, however as he took the child from her and inspected the baby's genitals his eyes narrowed. Shioria was a matriarchal nation and it therefor it was required that the Queens of the country were to produce a daughter as their heir to the throne. Abigail looked upon the King, fearing that in his grief he might do something to harm the child as a look of madness glowed in his crimson eyes, however he cradled the child gently and then met Abigail's gaze.

"You must be tired, Abigail. Anyone can see that this child is female. This child is our dear Princess Ophelia Gratien IX." King Ambrosius' words were spoken slowly however the intent behind them was clear. A daughter was expected of the royal family and he would take nothing less, even if it was a deception to the public.

"Take her now and see that she is properly fed and cared for. If anyone questions that she is the Princess then they and their entire family will be killed." The King's words were cold as ice as he handed the wailing infant back to Abigail and then strode from the room without a backward glance. The other maids looked to Abigail with a bewildered expression, fearful that their King had gone completely mad at the sight of his deceased wife.

"You heard his Highness! We are to see that the Princess is cared for." Abigail barked at the other maids who nodded and set to their tasks once more as though all were normal in the world. Abigail wrapped the squalling child in warm cloth and looked down on it's delicate face, her own expression etched in sympathy for the child.

Chapter One

Ophelia sat in the garden, reading quietly beneath one of the large cherry blossom trees that was scattering it's petals in the cool spring air. Crimson eyes like those of his father were set into a pale lean face with delicate full lips, high cheekbones, and manicured eyebrows. The face was framed by waves of long blond hair which was curled into a feminine style, trailing all the way down past the hips of it's owner. In this place in the garden Ophelia could temporarily forget about his duties as Princess to the house of Gratien, just enjoying the beauty of nature.

"Princess Ophelia! Princess!" Abigail called out and Ophelia sighed and folded the corner of the page he was reading. Closing the book he rose gracefully and scanned the garden, spotting Abigail at the far edge.

"Here Nanny! I'm here!" Ophelia called back, his voice was soft spoken and the dulcet notes were high enough to easily be mistaken for the voice of a female. Abigail's eyes trained on the approaching Princess and she smiled fondly. For seventeen years she'd closely raised Ophelia like she would have if he was her daughter, carefully training him in the ways that a Princess should behave.

"I am sorry for interrupting you, Princess... It is time for your daily medicine, and then you must start getting ready for the ball this evening." Abigail smiled and brushed a loose tendril of golden hair back from Ophelia's cheek.

"Don't apologize, Nanny. It's not your fault I have to get ready for this stuffy ball." Princess Ophelia replied and followed Abigail inside. As always a glass full of the herbal concoction that he had to drink every day since he could eat solid food was waiting for him in his chambers and he downed it's contents as quickly as possible, the stomach churning taste making him blanch slightly as he rinsed his mouth with water. It was not something that was discussed, but the "medicine" was an herbal solution to help hide the fact that Ophelia was born male. While it did not completely stunt his growth it kept his figure diminutive in comparison to other men, and his body was hairless, slender and androgynous in most aspects other than genitalia.

"These social gatherings really are such a bother... I had just gotten to a really good part of the story." the Princess murmured, looking over the dresses presented to him by his courtiers.

"I know, Princess. Here, why don't you wear this dress? It will show off your eyes." Abigail took one of the dresses and held it up to Ophelia's slender figure. The dress was a confection of silver silk and lace, with sleeves that draped almost to the floor.

"Very well, Nanny. If you really think it suits me," Ophelia spoke and then stood waiting patiently as the maids began to undress him.

"Yes, you'll look lovely." Abigail answered as she began to assist in undressing the Princess. As the layers of feminine clothing were removed and the Princess' body was bared it was clear that he was born male. As they began to dress him for the evening ball Abigail's brow creased in silent concern. Though it had not occurred to the King until recently, the nanny had always feared the day that Ophelia would be old enough to marry for that presented a problem that the King's solution had omitted. While they could hide the fact that Ophelia was male with herbs, training, and dresses, nothing would hide the fact that the Princess was born male should he be married and expected to consummate that marriage. It was also known among the courtiers that King Vladimir Lanval had taken a great interest in the Princess after a recent visit to the palace, and though King Ambrosius had turned down Vladimir's offer to marry the Princess, the foreign King had attended every royal ball since then.

"Hmmm.... I wonder if I'll ever find true love like the Princesses in all the stories I've read.." Ophelia sighed wistfully once he was dressed and examining himself in the mirror. Abigail felt her heart clench at those words, for while they were a natural thought for any Princess coming of age, they posed a much greater problem for Ophelia.

"I'm sure you will, sweet heart. Now, lets take care of your hair and make up." Abigail spoke soothingly and then guided Ophelia away from the mirror in order to finish preparing him for the evening.

Chapter Two

Ophelia watched the courtiers dance and sway across the ballroom below the thrones. King Ambrosius sat quietly, though his eyes which scanned the hall were alive and wary as they locked onto the figure of King Vladimir who was at that very moment making his way toward the thrones. Ophelia's turned to speak to his father but the look on the King's face gave him pause, and he followed the crimson eyed gaze all the way to Vladimir. At the sight of the