The Princess Rules. Philippa Gregory
about nothing. She had seconds and thirds of nearly everything.
She had a much better dinner than Prince Bennett, who had to dance with every single one of the hundred and twenty-one princesses. He thought he had better make an early start. He danced with each princess, one after another, and they all smiled and agreed with whatever he said.
They were lovely. They were the nicest girls he had ever met. They were so pleasant that he could not tell them apart. They were so charming that he had the horrid feeling that nobody could be that nice all the time. So how could he possibly know which were nice for most of the time? One or two might not be nice at all, but might just be putting it on for the party. And very sorry he would be if he married one of them! Prince Bennett’s head was spinning by the time he came and sat down beside Florizella, who was just finishing a bowl of raspberries.
‘Would you like a dance?’ he asked politely.
‘Not especially,’ said Florizella. ‘And I would have thought you might have had enough.’
‘Yes, I have,’ Prince Bennett said honestly. ‘I think it’s the worst party I’ve ever been to.’
‘Have a choc-ice,’ said Florizella to cheer him up, and Prince Bennett started to feel better.
‘You’re a girl,’ he said trustingly. ‘You advise me. How can you tell which princesses are really nice and which are just pretending?’
Florizella looked around. ‘I only know a few of them. Most of them I don’t know any better than you do,’ she said. ‘The thing you have to remember is that they all have to be nice to you because it’s in the Rules. You’re the handsome prince.’
‘That’s just it!’ Bennett groaned. ‘How do I choose which one to marry?’
‘You could disguise yourself as a woodcutter,’ Florizella said helpfully, ‘and go away for seven years, walk all round other kingdoms and see if you meet your True Love.’
‘That’s a really rubbish idea,’ Prince Bennett said. ‘I’m not cutting wood for seven years.’
‘Or you could go and work as a swineherd in a royal palace and see if the princess chooses you?’
‘I’m not being a swineherd!’ Bennett exclaimed. ‘Do you have any idea what swine are?’
‘Then don’t marry anyone,’ Florizella said helpfully. ‘I wouldn’t.’
‘But I have to! All princes have to give balls and choose their princess and get married. Then they have to live happily ever after.’
Florizella frowned. ‘I know people say that’s a happy ending, but they never say exactly how to do it.’
Prince Bennett nodded. ‘Or how to do it forever after,’ he said dolefully. ‘That’s the whole problem with being a fairytale prince.’
Then the band played and poor Prince Bennett had to go and dance with another princess, and then another and another, until the clock struck midnight and all the princesses got up at once, rushed up the stairs and limped to their beds. There were one hundred and twenty glass slippers dumped on the stairs like a jumble sale. Bennett picked up sixty of them, and then gave up.
‘This is getting completely ridiculous,’ said Florizella.
That night all the beautiful princesses set their alarm clocks for six in the morning to give themselves time to get up early and find their shoes, have their baths, wash their hair and put on new dresses for breakfast.
The next day, Prince Bennett was in the parlour waiting for them, and as each princess came in, he bowed very low and said, ‘Good morning!’
Each princess curtsied and smiled, and said, ‘Good morning, Prince Bennett!’
Then the tired prince said, ‘What would you like for breakfast?’
And each princess said, ‘I don’t know. What are you having?’
When Prince Bennett said he was having porridge, every one of the one hundred and twenty princesses gasped as if he had said something dreadful, and said, ‘Oh, no! Not for me! Just a glass of herbal tea, please! Nothing else!’
One or two of them even said, ‘Just a glass of hot water!’ and all the other princesses looked envious that they had not thought of that, and gazed at Prince Bennett to see if he was impressed.
So he was very glad to see Princess Florizella, who came in late because she had been out to the stables to see her horse. And he was very glad when she said at once that she would like bacon and eggs, and tomatoes and sausages too, if they had any. They had a most peaceful, hearty breakfast while, all around, the one hundred and twenty princesses sipped tea and looked beautiful but hungry.
After breakfast, Prince Bennett asked the princess on his right what she would like to do that day. And the princess on his right said, ‘I don’t know. What would you like to do?’
Then Prince Bennett asked the princess on his left what she would like to do that day. And she said, ‘I don’t know. What would you like to do?’
Then Princess Florizella suggested very helpfully, ‘Why don’t we all ride down to the Deep Lakes and go swimming? We could take a picnic with us.’
Well – some of the princesses couldn’t ride, and some of them couldn’t swim. Some of them hadn’t got trousers for riding, and some of them hadn’t got swimming costumes. Some of them were frightened of cold water, and some of them were frightened of horses, and none of them would dream of eating a picnic sitting on the ground where there might be ants or wasps.
‘Or grass!’ one of them exclaimed.
And they all said, ‘Grass stains! Oh no!’
So in the end, no one went … except Princess Florizella and Prince Bennett.
They had a lovely day.
When they were trotting back to the prince’s palace in the evening, just as the stars were starting to come out and the sky was getting grey, Prince Bennett said happily, ‘Florizella, I’ve had the most brilliant idea. I won’t marry any of the one hundred and twenty beautiful princesses. I’ll marry you!’
And then Florizella said something that surprised him so much that he nearly fell off his horse.
‘No, thank you,’ she said politely.
Prince Bennett gawped at her. ‘Why ever not?’ he asked. ‘I am a fairytale prince, remember. And you would be my queen.’
‘Look here,’ said Florizella reasonably, ‘I told you I wasn’t going to marry, and I meant it. One day I shall inherit the Seven Kingdoms, and there are a lot of things I want to do there. I don’t want to come and be your queen. I’m not even sure that I think kings and queens are a good idea. It might be a lot better for everyone if people made up their own laws and didn’t have one person ruling everything.
‘Why should I come and live in your palace when I’ve got a perfectly good palace of my own? I’m not even planning to keep that one all to myself – I’m going to share it. Another home would just be greedy.
‘And I don’t want to live in your country. I’ve got one of my own. I don’t need