Chapter 15: Chapter 14

Peter

 

Peter rummaged through his closet. He didn't like anything. He owned a lot of clothes, but he couldn't find anything that even remotely pleased him.

White trousers with a yellow shirt? No. A black suit? No. An embroidered vest with gold buttons, a patterned shirt, and black trousers? No. He literally had a closet full of nothing to wear. He didn't like anything. NOTHING!

In a bad mood, he stood in front of his large mirror. He looked thin, not particularly muscular, with big gray eyes and well-groomed hair. His sister's necklace hung around his neck and sparkled in the light.

Should I let my hair grow long? ... What am U going to wear... Slowly I am late for breakfast.

The most tragic thing about the whole situation was, that he was aware that he had a lot. Annoyed, he put on his colorful patterned silk dressing gown and left his room.

Some of the servants looked at him with amusement, others looked away quickly, and some looked at him a little too long, but he was used to that.

He strolled along the many corridors of the castle, stuck out his tongue at one of the paintings, feeling haunted by the wandering eyes of the man in the picture, and finally arrived at the dining room. The queen was already sitting at the table drinking coffee. His father was also back, reading a newspaper.

"Good morning dear parents," he greeted them effusively and sat down at the table.

"Do you only wear your dressing gown?" His mother looked at him with a sullen expression.

"Good morning, mother. I slept wonderfully, thank you for asking." He winked at her. "And I'm happy to tell you that I'm not just wearing this wonderful dressing gown. No! I also wear underwear! Phenomenal, I know. You can stop clapping your hands! Thank you."

"I don't clap my hands." The queen smeared strawberry jam on a butter croissant.

"This is very unfortunate."

"Why are you only wearing a dressing gown for breakfast?", his father intervened annoyed.

"Because I feel like wearing a dressing gown today, father. Don't you sometimes wake up and think, today is a wonderful day for an airy fresh dressing gown? Preferably one made of cool silk?" 

"No."

"What a pity. You're missing something."

"Peter? Tomorrow a few young ladies will come for tea. You will keep them company. Among them will be Babette, as well as the three daughters of the Duchess of Bach and the daughter of the Countess of Grasweg."

Grasweg. Grass path. Bach. Stream. Will ‘Stein’/ 'Stone', and ‘Mauer’/ 'wall' and ‘Haus’/ 'house' also come? How did these silly surnames come about... Peter smeared butter on a bun and then topped it with ham and some cucumber. "And how long will these ladies stay?"

"One to two hours. You will talk to them. You will marry one of them. I will no longer tolerate your silliness." The queen took a dramatic sip of coffee, then glared at him angrily. “Maybe this will make you a little more reasonable."

"As you wish, mother." He suddenly didn't like his bun anymore.

The queen nodded contentedly. "And please put something on..."

"Your half-sister Cleo has sent us a letter," his father informed him. "It arrived this morning. She has successfully arrested the insurgent elves. They will be put on trial in the next few days. Our funds were used to make the city safer so that there would be no more riots."

"Safer?" That sounds suspicious.  "By what?"

"Stricter controls and a curfew at night. For this purpose, some additional soldiers will be deployed." His father smiled contentedly. "Your sister did an excellent job."

"Indeed," the queen agreed. "I'm very proud of her."

After breakfast, Peter went for a walk through the castle gardens. Of course, he was still wearing his dressing gown. On principle.

There was chaos inside his head.

His mother was serious. Peter didn't want to get married. Should he, like Paul and Ingried, leave his life as a prince behind and start a new one? The problem was that he didn't know what this other life should look like. He liked being a prince. He liked the luxury. He liked the prestige. He liked things the way they were. A wife wasn’t supposed to be a part of his life!

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The 'tea hour' would probably be terrible. Several witches willing to marry and among them is his personal nightmare, Babette.

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The tea party with the witches willing to marry came sooner than Peter would have liked.

In the conservatory of the castle, the servants had set a large table. There was tea, coffee, cakes, and chocolates. Peter sat there surrounded by future house dragons. They were all strong-willed, but acted shy and tried to flatter him.

Babette was the worst future house dragon of all. She constantly told embarrassing stories to make her competitors look bad.

Peter wanted to scream.

Since his mother had forced him to do so, he had dressed up and wore a gray suit with gold buttons and a light green shirt with gold embroidery. His little sister's necklace hung around his neck. He had hardly put it down.

The ladies had also dressed up. Babette in particular had made a lot of effort. In vain. She wore a cream-colored, tight dress with a high collar, which made her look all the more like a raging liver sausage on two legs, and wore a much too large, voluptuous brooch with matching lush earrings. She had pinned her hair up into a bun. However, the bun looked a bit slipped. In addition, she was wearing conspicuous makeup. Her orange lipstick didn't suit her and beamed at Peter like a threat.

Peter would have loved to run away. But where to?

"I'm going to celebrate my twentieth birthday big," Babette said. "There will be a big ball. Dad promised me fireworks. Maybe I'll treat myself to a new horse for my birthday. Oh! I remember, last year, on your birthday Jessica," she looked at a witch with frizzy black hair. "You drank so much that you fell into your birthday cake. That was a pity. That wouldn't have happened to me."

"It won't happen to me again," Jessica murmured ashamed. Babette hid a satisfied smile behind her napkin, with which she wiped her mouth.

"This can happen to anyone," Peter politely objected, as he felt a little sorry for Jessica.

"Certainly not me." Babette smiled uncloudedly. "This shouldn't happen to a lady."

After two hours, the terrible tea party was over.

The queen came by to say goodbye to the guests and devoted a lot of time to Babette. This did not go unnoticed. The other young witches gave their competitors envious looks.

Then the future house dragons were finally gone.

"Babette thanked us profusely for the invitation," his mother turned to him. She smiled contentedly. "She would really be an excellent choice and her parents agree to that marriage."

"I'm sure the same goes for the other ladies."  How far have you already planned?

"Did you like one of the other ladies?"

Should he lie? None had pleased him. They had all been terribly fake. Hypocritical.

Peter did not. "I didn't like any of them."

"All right." The queen nodded. "I'll see you at dinner."

He looked after his mother. Was that it? Did he manage to escape from the wedding market for the time being?

He went to his room and began to write a letter to his little sister to tell her about the ominous tea party. He missed her terribly. And he envied her for her freedom. For her magic. For her privilege.

He wished he was a wizard.

Then he could do what he wanted.

Then he would be at the Academy.

Then he would be free.

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