Princesses Don't Become Engineers Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  Part Two

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Part Three

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Afterword

  Other books by Aya

  About the author

  Title Page

  Princess Elaine of Riviera has been through nine governesses. Only when she decides to study math and science at the prestigious University that she stops tormenting her elders. The problem is that the University does not welcome female students. How can Elaine, who has only been schooled in basic reading and court etiquette, prove that she is capable of higher education? And how will everyone accept an anti-social princess who just wants to invent gadgets and fix machines?

  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

  Copyright © 2014 by Aya Ling

  No part of this document may be reproduced without written consent of Aya Ling

  Part One

  CHAPTER ONE

  "Elaine, you can't be serious. No. You can't possibly mean you're intending to sneak into Lady Wesley's room."

  "Then let's bet."

  "All right. I'll bet you can't pick the lock on the door."

  "Stakes?"

  A moment of silence.

  "Are you letting me choose, Bran?"

  "No! All right. If you really can pick the lock, I'll coax Old Maurice to let you sit with him when he pilots Uncle's steam carriage."

  "Fair enough."

  "And what do I get if you can't?"

  "Don't worry. I assure you that the lock is no trouble. Why, I've picked the one in the throne room..."

  "You what?"

  "Well, I didn't really finish because Papa arrived. But if I had enough time, I could have slipped in."

  Bran shook his head. "Did Uncle see you?"

  Elaine grinned. "I hid behind a suit of armor. Ralph spotted me, but I begged as hard as I could with wild gestures and he didn't give me away. I did get a proper scolding afterwards, though."

  At that moment, the bell tower began to strike. Bran scraped a hand through his chestnut hair and darted a glance at the end of the corridor as though expecting anyone to pop up any second.

  "Elaine, you'd better hurry before someone comes this way."

  'No problem. I'll be done in a jiffy."

  A mischievous gleam in her eyes, Elaine produced her lockpicking kit–a wrench, a hook pick and a tweezer.

  "Bran, stay in the corridor and keep an eye out for me. Whistle if you see anyone."

  Elaine inserted the pick into the lock. She jammed and adjusted for a minute; an audible click was heard and the door creaked open, revealing a luxuriously furnished bedroom with floral-patterned wallpaper, embroidery frames and a canopied bed with carved headboard and posts.

  "You did it," Bran whispered, a tone of incredulity in his voice.

  Elaine arched an eyebrow. "It isn't that difficult, Bran. Here, all you have to do is–"

  "You'd better hurry," her cousin interrupted. "Lady Wesley could change her mind and return early."

  Elaine doubted that her governess would be in a hurry to finish her breakfast, which was usually a relaxing affair of coffee and croissants, but she tiptoed into the room and shut the door as quietly as she could.

  Now it was time to carry out her nefarious plan. She scanned the room quickly–even with two grownup sons and a daughter, Lady Wesley was extremely fastidious about her appearance and sensitive about her age. Cut-glass bottles, cream jars, and china containers were arranged row after row on top of the dressing-room table.

  With such an overwhelming amount of cosmetics, it would be easy to accomplish her mission. The corners of her mouth quirked up. This was going to be fun.

  The princess bounded to the table and climbed on the silk-draped mahogany chair. She examined the cosmetics one by one until she found one that suited her purpose. She opened her handy toolkit, extracted a coil of spring with a bright, colorful toy clown at the end and a bottle of resin glue. Then she started to glue the spring to the bottom of the cosmetics box, pressing down for a few minutes to ensure the spring was firmly attached.

  So absorbed she was that she almost missed Bran's whistle.

  "Psst! Winifred's coming!"

  Winifred? What was she doing here? As her own personal maid, shouldn't she still be changing the bed sheets and shaking the rugs?

  Elaine tried to shut the lid. Since the spring was quite sturdy, it took her several tries before she managed to slam the lid completely shut. By the time she was done, Winifred's footsteps were so close to the door she had no time to flee.

  Frantically, Elaine looked for a place to hide. The bed? No, there was only massive solid wood beneath the mattress; unlike some other beds, it didn't have four legs with plenty of hiding space. The curtains? They didn't reach the floor. Her feet would show. The wardrobe, then. It was so big that Elaine was certain even Queen Valeria, who was well known for her plumpness, would fit in it.

  Elaine dashed to the wardrobe and dove into a sea of frilly dresses. She closed the door just when there came the sound of a key inserted into a lock.

  The door creaked open. Light footsteps tread on the velvet carpet.

  Elaine held her breath. It was dreadfully hot and stuffy and uncomfortable, being wedged in numerous folds of silk and velvet. Inwardly, she cursed Lady Wesley for bringing so many gowns to the palace. Was it really necessary to wear a different dress in the morning, afternoon and evening? She felt a sneeze coming and held her nose. If Winifred wasn't going to leave soon, she was going to sneeze into Lady Wesley's finest crimson silk ball gown.

  Then came the ominous sound of a lid--most probably the one belonging to the cosmetics box--popping open.

  Oops.

  "Princess Elaine!" Winifred's voice, stern but carrying an undertone of amusement. "I know you're in here. Somewhere."

  Elaine put both hands over her mouth. She could almost picture Winifred, hands on her hips, looking irritated. But she was not going to give up without a struggle.

  Chairs were moved aside, tables creaked, and the curtains swished and rustled. Winifred was certainly determined to find her. Then footsteps approached the wardrobe. The next second, the door was flung wide open. A middle-aged woman, with curly blond hair tucked in a maid's cap, looked down at her with narrowed eyes.

  "Oh Winnie!" Elaine said cheerily as though it was a normal routine to hide in the wardrobe every morning. "What a nice surprise. How did you know I was in here?"

  Winifred placed her hands on her hips, looking exasperated. "What did Lady Wesley do to you?"

  Elaine glanced at the dressing table.

  Uh-oh.

  The clown in its striped suit glory was hovering in mid-air, completely protruding from the box. It swayed from left to right as though mocking her.

  "I...er...thought she might like one? For her grandchild?"

  "By planting a springing mechanism in her cosmetics box instead of simp
ly buying a ready-made toy?"

  "Well...er...yes." Elaine scuffled the ground, not daring to look at Winifred straight in the eye. Perhaps it was best to offer a diversion. "How come you're here, Winnie?"

  "I was passing through this corridor and Prince Bran looked like he was keeping a watch-out. Then I remembered how you were in a hurry to finish breakfast, so I suspected you two must be up to no good."

  "How clever you are, Winnie!" Elaine offered her most flattering smile. "I'll just grab this and go–"

  "Not so fast, little princess." Winifred blocked her way. "We should have a talk with the king. Or with His Highness Ralph."

  Elaine's face fell. "Please don't tell them! I promise I'll behave myself and be a good girl from now on."

  "That's what you said when you put a toad in Miss Greenwood's coat pocket. And then you went and put a tortoise in Miss Blair's handbag."

  "Oh, but those were live animals," Elaine insisted. "This is different. The clown is perfectly harmless, honestly, I swear." She tugged on Winifred's sleeve. "Please, Winnie? I didn't plan to do this to Lady Wesley just because the lessons are horrid. You should have heard the demeaning things she said about Valeria."

  Winifred pursed her lips. She served Valeria before the latter married and had more servants than she needed. "Fine. Just this one time, remember. And you should know that if you have an issue with your governess, the right course of action is to take it up to the king, not resolving to pranks."

  "Pssst!" Bran's anxious face peeped out in the doorway. "I hear footsteps! Sounds like Lady Wesley is coming this way!"

  Alarmed, Elaine scurried out of the room as though it was infested by rats. She didn't even have to look up; the ominous click-clacking of heels hitting the marble floor could only belong to her governess.

  Lady Wesley appeared. She was well into her forties, though not a wrinkle was visible on her heavily powdered face. Her velvet gown swished as she walked, her manner poised and graceful, every inch of the perfect lady Elaine was supposed to be.

  "Elaine, child! There you are! Hurry along to the schoolroom, our morning lessons shall commence shortly."

  "Um..." Elaine darted a nervous glance behind her; the jack-in-the-cosmetics-box was still visible. "Certainly, Mrs. Wesley, but aren't you coming with me?"

  "Not yet. I need to get a new handkerchief. My old one was soiled by spilt coffee this morning. Such a pity; that handkerchief had the most exquisite handiwork along the hems." Lady Wesley took a step towards the door, but Elaine stood in the way.

  "I can get the handkerchief," Winifred offered. "I'll bring it to the schoolroom so you can start the lessons on time."

  "It's easier if I get it myself. You don't know which drawer it's in." When Elaine didn't budge, Lady Wesley started to sense something was wrong. "Child, why are you not letting me enter my own room?"

  "Be...because, it's pretty messy at the moment," Elaine said hurriedly. "A cat got in through the window and left muddy foot prints all over the carpet. You wouldn't want to dirty your new gown, Mrs. Wesley."

  "A cat!" Lady Wesley put a hand on her bosom. Unlike many ladies, she detested feline creatures, especially the long hairs they left everywhere. "Well, send the servants to clean up right away. Inform me as soon as they're finished."

  She turned away and marched down the corridor. Elaine breathed a sigh of relief. But only for a second.

  "Wait." Lady Wesley whirled around. "How did you know the state of my dressing room when it should have been locked? Have you been lying to me, Elaine?"

  So sudden was Lady Wesley's question that Elaine was startled and automatically took a step backwards. Her back hit the door and it swung open.

  The jack-in-the-cosmetics-box sat on the dresser, the clown with its bright red nose waving cheerfully at them.

  Lady Wesley's shriek pierced the air.

  Prince Ralph and Princess Valeria sat on the balcony, comfortably ensconced in upholstered chairs, a laden table propped between the two of them. Sunshine poured into the platform, making the golden rims on the china cups and saucers gleam. Nice weather was hard to come by, as well as free time being alone together. Ralph, being heir to the throne of the largest kingdom on the Continent, was frequently occupied with state affairs, international trade and diplomacy. An exceptionally handsome man in his mid-twenties, also accomplished in sports and fighting, he was long regarded the exemplar of the Rivieran Royal Family. Except for Elaine. She respected her eldest brother, but his squeaky-clean, no-nonsense character often bored her. Valeria, on the other hand, was as plump as the chubby snowmen they built in winter. Still, she possessed a certain charm with her merry eyes, rosy cheeks and dimples that showed every time she smiled. While many Rivierans questioned the crown prince's choice, Elaine took a liking to Valeria instantly and defended her sister-in-law whenever needed. In her opinion, Ralph was the lucky one.

  When Winifred and Elaine arrived, they found Valeria in the challenging task of persuading her husband to try out a new snack.

  "Peanut butter might seem a weird choice, but it balances the cloying sweetness of jelly quite well," Valeria said, holding out a sandwich.

  Ralph eyed the sandwich as though it might explode.

  "Come on, dear. It won't hurt to try new flavors. Trust me."

  Elaine watched, amused as her elder brother gave in to Valeria's coaxing. Winifred coughed–not loudly, but enough to gain Valeria's attention.

  "Winifred?" Seeing that the maid didn't return her smile, Valeria sensed something was wrong. "Is there a problem you wish to discuss with us?"

  Ralph also glanced at them. Little Elaine had her hands clasped behind her back, her eyes on the ground.

  "What is it this time?" he asked, rubbing his forehead.

  Briefly, Winifred related Elaine's prank. "Your Highness, Lady Wesley sent me to inform you that Princess Elaine had behaved in a disrespectful manner and ought to let you know." She produced the jack-in-the-cosmetics-box. "Elaine tried to plant this in Lady Wesley's room after she got in by picking the lock on the door."

  At sight of the flamboyant clown waving in the air, Valeria stifled a laugh. Even Ralph's lip twitched.

  "Explain," Ralph commanded, his voice stern.

  "I..." Elaine kept her eyes on the ground. "I don't like Lady Wesley's lessons. I think it's boring to learn how to pour a cup of tea or where I ought to put my hands and feet when sitting down. And besides..."

  "Yes?" Ralph prompted.

  "She insulted Valeria," Elaine said in a small voice. "She said it was ridiculous that Riviera should have a fat queen from a lesser country."

  Ralph's jaw tightened. "I must have a word with Father. Lady Wesley must be removed."

  "Don't be too harsh on her," Valeria said, laying a hand on his arm. "Remember, she is your mother's friend."

  Ralph shook his head. "We need a new governess for Elaine, even if this is the ninth governess she's had."

  "Why must I be educated?" Elaine said, scuffing her foot on the ground. "I'm tired of learning how a lady ought to behave. It's boring."

  "What about the Academy?" Ralph asked. "Better direct your energy in discipline than wasting it in mischief."

  The Academy was the Royal Rivieran School of Fighting Arts. It used to be exclusively male, with the aim of training boys to be fine warriors, but forty years ago, Lady Matilda of Linderall disguised herself as a man and won the title of the Academy champion three years in a row. Eventually the rules changed. Now, princesses over the world were opting to train as a warrior instead.

  "No." Elaine looked revolted at the very idea. "I hate lifting weights and running around the lake."

  "So do I," Valeria winked. She was once an Academy pupil. "But honestly, Ralph, there are other alternatives we could consider. Not every girl has to be a court lady or a warrior. I can let Elaine come to the kitchen and see if she'd like to learn more about culinary skills. She helped Pat bake a wonderful blueberry pie the other day."

  "Er..." Elaine preferred
to eat ready-made desserts rather than rolling up her sleeves and pounding dough. Baking once in a while was fun, but she had no interest in doing it every day.

  Just then, the door leading to the balcony was flung open. A distressed maid with a mop of curly blond hair rushed towards Princess Valeria. Her name was Effie. Like Winifred, she also waited on Elaine, though during the day she helped out in other places.

  "Your Highness!" she panted. "Do come quick, we've been trying to pacify Baby Charles, but he won't stop screaming!"

  "Oh dear, that always happens when he wakes up from a nap and doesn't see me." Valeria sighed and rose from her chair. "I'd better go. Elaine, dear, I know you won't like it, but do take the time and have a honest discussion with Ralph. We only want the best for you."

  When Valeria left, Ralph and Elaine looked at each other. Both were rather reluctant to talk now that Valeria wasn't present to exert a moderating influence on them.

  "Well," Ralph cleared his throat. "You cannot grow up doing nothing but playing pranks, Elaine. You're already twelve."

  "Sign me up for the School of Mischief and Mayhem." Elaine let out a huge, dramatic sigh. "What a pity that such a school doesn't exist! I'd promise not to miss a single class."

  Ralph gave her a stern look. "It seems we cannot reach a mutual agreement. I shall have to take the matter to Father and Mother. Meanwhile, before we find you a new governess, try not to infuriate Lady Wesley. However traditional-minded she may be, she volunteered to tutor you."

  A brave thing to do, since eight governesses had given up tutoring the little princess. But Ralph did not say that.

  Elaine nodded, but in her mind she fretted that she should have deposited a mouse in Lady Wesley's hat instead.

  CHAPTER TWO

  "Effie, have you seen the little princess? She wasn't at breakfast this morning."

  "Oh, she's still in bed," Effie said, waving a hand at a small mound on the princess's bed. "Should I have woken her, Winifred? Should I bring in a breakfast tray? D' you think she's ill?"

  "I highly doubt it. Of the several years we've known her, she's as strong as a small horse. And as wily as a fox."