Born to Rule

feeling that there had been a presence, or perhaps a visitation, as she slept.

Chapter 5
    A MYSTERY IN STITCHES

    Princesses always had breakfast in bed. It was a custom in most kingdoms to avoid “the morning’s royal crankies.” But the crankies returned in full force when Kristen and Gundersnap were informed by Gilly that their first activity would be needlepoint.
    “Borrrrring!” said Princess Kristen.
    “Vee haven’t von anyting yet!” said Princess Gundersnap. “Vot is there to stitch about?”
    Alicia simply yawned. It was still winter, and she was feeling lazy. As much as she loved to embroider, she would much rather curl up with her book and sip hot chocolate with lots of whipped cream by a cozy fire.
    But off to needlepoint they went.
     
    “Gently, gently, Princess Kristen. You’re not on a hunt heaving a spear into a wild boar. This is needlework.” There were muffled giggles from all of the princesses who sat at the large embroidery frame as they began to stitch the background for the camp tapestry.
    The needlepoint counselor, Lady Merry von Schleppenspiel, was an enormous lady. She did not simply have double chins, but quadruple, quintuple, octogubble chins.
    Alicia silently counted them as she stole glances from the portion of the panel she had been assigned to work on. There were indeed eight chins. The woman was of enormous girth, and the seams of her sea-blue silk dress appeared ready to split. Her fingers looked like sausages. Her feet poked out under the ruffled hem of her dress. They were tiny but oozed out over the edges of her shoes.
    Alicia frowned at her work. She was proud that Lady von Schleppenspiel thought she was ready for the complicated split stitch, which was usually left for the third-year princesses. But it was very difficult. She had had to pick out the threads from the feather of a bird in the Forest of Chimes three times now.
    “Princess Kristen, I gave you the snow daisies. Those are easy. It’s a straight simple stitch,” Lady von Schleppenspiel said gently.
    “Maybe for you, Lady von Schleppenspiel. But my hands are accustomed to holding an oar or a jousting lance,” Kristen replied. Then under her breath she added, “This sucks!”
    There was a wave of tittering from the other princesses. “Yes,” Kristen continued. “In the Realm of Rolm, girls can joust. They can also sail boats and ride on boar hunts if they are so inclined. And I am. I don’t give a pinch for the needle arts and all that. Give me a lance, a spear, or a sword. Those are my needles!”
    “Well, my dear.” Lady von Schleppenspiel cocked her head so that several of her chins seemed to slide off to one side. “If you don’t finish the tapestry, it shall never be displayed, and since I am the needlepoint counselor, it is my job to see that it is completed. Just look around you when you walk through the castle and you will see our camp history. All the tapestries for all the hundreds of years of Camp Princess have been finished.” Lady von Schleppenspiel paused for effect. “All except one, that is.”
    “Why wasn’t it finished?” asked Alicia, suddenly interested.
    “Oh, if it’s true, it’s rather a sad story.”
    “Do tell us, please!” Princess Gundersnap asked in a pleading voice.
    “Yes, do!” said Princess Kinna.
    “Princess Kinna of the Queendom of Mattunga, you as a Third Year have heard this story many times, I would imagine.”
    “Yes, but it is a lovely story, Lady von Schleppenspiel.”
    “It is a story as unfinished as the tapestry,” replied Lady Merry.
    “Go on!” the other princesses urged.
    “Well…” Lady von Schleppenspiel sighed. “It was said that more than a century ago, a princess with a broken heart took refuge here. No one knows why her heart was broken or why she came to Camp Princess. Some say that she had been a camper here in her youth. In any case, when she returned she became the needlepoint counselor. Her stitches were supposedly magnificent—tiny, tight, and they gleamed. But she never laughed or smiled, and she hardly ever ate. She wasted away until finally she died of a broken heart.”
    A hush fell over the room. Needles stopped moving, and sighs could be heard coming from more than a few princesses.
    Lady von Schleppenspiel broke the silence.
    “The oddest part,” she continued, “is that year’s tapestry vanished. It simply disappeared within an hour of the princess’s death.”
    “Was it stolen?” Princess