Princesses Don't Get Fat Read online

  Contents

  PRINCESSES DON’T GET FAT

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Epilogue

  Princes Don't Bake

  Afterword

  Other books by Aya

  Copyright © 2013 by Aya Ling

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

  One

  Ever since the legendary Lady Matilda of Linderall made history by defeating the most powerful dark wizard ever known, the expected role of princesses and noble young ladies had changed. No longer were they expected to stay home and wait to get married. It had, in fact, become fashionable for princesses to declare independence, run away from the safe haven of home, and seek high adventure.

  Princess Valeria of Amaranta was not one of those fashionable princesses. A short, stout girl, nearly sixteen, Valeria’s favorite pastime was to lounge on her velvet-draped low chair and spend the day in the company of delectable food.

  “Raspberry tarts for today, please,” she informed her maid, Effie, in preparation for her afternoon tea. “No, wait, I already had raspberry bread for breakfast. Tell Luigi that I want lemon cream puffs with white sugar icing. And tell him that I prefer the shells to be on the soft side, not the flaky kind he uses for pastries.”

  Within half an hour, Effie returned, bearing a plateful of cream puffs fresh out of the oven and a steaming pot of black tea scented with apples and cinnamon.

  Valeria inhaled the fragrant tea and closed her eyes. She popped a lemon cream puff in her mouth and chewed slowly, savoring the creamy flavor that was made less gooey by the tang of lemons. A small amount of cream oozed from the puff and dropped on her plate, but it was nothing to worry about. She wore her hair in a thick braid down her back, so it wouldn’t get in the way when cake crumbs and pastry filling made things messy.

  Oh, how she loved Amaranta. A sub-tropical island surrounded by the sea, the weather was almost always sunny and balmy, the fauna and flora always flourishing, the people well-fed and happy, and the harvest every year was always bountiful and plenty. It was a wonderful place to live, especially when one was the Princess of Amaranta. A never-ending supply of exquisitely prepared food was provided every day of the year, served at her balcony, where she could bask in the sun and enjoy the view of the gardens below.

  But her mother was a different matter.

  The door leading to her balcony was thrown open, and Queen Jacinda appeared, hands on hips. Unlike her daughter, the queen was a tall, dignified personage who was always meticulous about her appearance and behavior.

  “Valeria!” she said sternly. “Are you having a second afternoon tea—again?”

  The princess calmly added sugar and cream into her teacup. “It’s good tea, Mother. Would you like to have a cup?”

  “You should abstain from having snacks between meals! Have I not told you that you need to watch your figure?”

  “But Luigi and his apprentices have done such a good job,” Valeria said, as though her inability to stop eating was the baker’s fault. “With my appreciation, they will feel validated.”

  “They can do very well without your validation.” The queen glared. “Honestly speaking, you need to go on a diet. You will never get a husband if you continue eating like this.”

  “Isn’t it the fashion now for princesses not to get married?” Valeria countered.

  The queen threw up her hands. "If you choose to be a wandering swordswoman, then fine! But if you want to live in the palace and eat whatever you want, well, you had better think of settling down! Think about that!”

  As the queen stormed off, Valeria shrugged and popped another cream puff into her mouth. Really, she ought to ask her father to offer Luigi a pay raise. The lemon cream filling was irresistible.

  For Valeria, it was more incomprehensible how princesses maintained their figures, or at least, how the princesses of the past did, when they were encouraged to stay indoors and do nothing but embroider, play the harp, and memorize etiquette. Perhaps they were able to control their desire for good food, which Valeria never could. Since her waist had become twice the size of girls her age, the princess needed to have her robes specially tailor-made. None of the queen’s fine gowns that she wore in her youth fit Valeria.

  The princess was not bothered. She was satisfied with her luxurious, idle life in the palace. When Winifred, her nanny, sometimes gently warned her that her matrimonial prospects could be diminished because of her figure, the princess simply shrugged and popped another piece of cake into her mouth. If she couldn’t get married, she would just have to become an old maid. With so many princesses refusing to get married, Valeria was certain she wouldn’t be the only one.

  The queen needn’t have worried. When Valeria turned sixteen, requests for her hand poured in from neighboring kingdoms. Since most princesses were rejecting marriage and childbearing, the demand for eligible princesses had tripled. It also helped that few people outside the palace knew that the Princess of Amaranta was fat. Valeria seldom went out, and even if she did, she always stayed in the carriage. Therefore, when the dukes, lords, and kings around the world heard that the Amarantan princess had come of age, there was a mad scramble to be in line.

  The king and queen spent three days discussing prospective suitors with the prime minister and the high chancellor.

  “The Marquee of Tintagel seems a good choice,” mused the prime minister. “Their wines and cheeses are extremely expensive in the markets. If Her Highness marries into Tintagel, it will be easier to negotiate a good deal with them.”

  “But he has married thrice,” the queen pointed out. “Valeria is young enough to be his daughter—why, she would be the same age as her step-children!”

  The king nodded. “Point taken, my dear.”

  “Then how about Prince Ralph of Riviera?” suggested the high chancellor. “Riviera is the most powerful kingdom of all, whether in the Continent or the Archipelago. We will only benefit from their alliance.”

  “There’s hardly any chance that Riviera will consider Valeria for their crown prince,” the queen said dryly. “From what I’ve heard, Prince Ralph does not lack for prospective brides. He will not take the trouble to travel all the way down here for a wife.”

  Finally, they narrowed down the suitors to three: the Duke of Savona, one of Amaranta’s provinces; the Baron of Makani, a neighboring island kingdom; and the Earl of Linderall, a kingdom from the Continent. The duke was one of the most eligible bachelors, the baron hailed from a prestigious family, and Linderall, though a small country, was highly respected due to the famous Lady Matilda.

  In order to choose a husband from the three suitors, the king and queen decided that they should hold a shooting contest. Whoever proved to be the best archer would have Valeria’s hand in marriage.

  “Your Majesties, I do not think this is a good idea,” said the prime minister, pulling on his curled moustache. “Do you remember that the King of Makani did exactly the same thing three years ago? He held an archery contest for his own unmarried daughter, and guess what happened during the contest? The princess declared that she would shoot for her own hand! She humiliated her suitors by outshooting them all. No one knew how to make of it afterwards. And to this day, the Princess of Makani still remains single. I hear that she spends her days in the jungle, hunting for crocodiles and leopards.”

  The high chancellor shivered. What were princesses coming to these days?

  “There is no danger that what happened in Makani will happen here,” the queen said. “Valeria can barely handle a bow and arrow.” She rose from th
e throne. “Now, I must go and compose the invitations right away. We should have them sent out by tomorrow morning.”

  When Valeria received news of the archery contest, she was not pleased.

  “Can you imagine that suitors as far as Linderall are asking for Your Highness’s hand?” Effie said excitedly. “Gastien told Penelope, who told me, that the king and queen had to spend an entire morning sifting through the request letters!”

  “Hmm.” Valeria sipped on her morning tea and leaned back in her chair. Though it did surprise her that there was a slew of suitors competing for her, she was not ready to be married off—yet. She did not look forward to leaving the safety of her home to travel to some foreign place that she knew nothing about and where the food was likely to taste awful.

  “Well, I’d consider myself lucky,” Winifred said. “Not many princesses these days can attract so many eligible young men. Although…”

  “What?”

  Winifred gestured at the table, which was laden with several empty plates. For her morning tea, Valeria had consumed a cherry ricotta-cheese torte, two pieces of custard pie with pine nuts, and three slices of pear and fig tart. “Wouldn’t it be a better idea to abstain a little, Your Highness?”

  “Why?”

  “Well, as the queen said, it would really be better if you lost some weight. Your future husband may not like his wife being too…er…large.”

  If the princess remained as plump as the cinnamon bun she was devouring now, it was possible that her future husband would come to regret his choice.

  Valeria frowned. She didn’t exactly enjoy looking at her reflection in the mirror, but if it meant giving up her precious snacks, well, she would rather be fat.

  “Let Mother complain,” Valeria said. “I don’t think I’d like to marry someone who doesn’t appreciate my love for good food.” She continued to munch on the bun. The smell was heavenly, the texture perfect, and the sprinkle of cinnamon sugar on top added a unique touch that set it apart from the ones she usually tasted. Really, Luigi had outdone himself.

  Winifred sighed.

  On the day of the contest, the Amarantan people flocked from their houses to watch. Amaranta was a small kingdom located far from the Continent, so it was not often that royal people from foreign countries came to visit. And who wouldn’t want to see Princess Valeria’s future husband?

  The contest was held in the Grand Plaza in the center of the capital. Usually the plaza was used for market days, but for this special occasion, all street vendors were ordered to set up their business beyond the borders of the arena, which they cheerfully did. Hundreds of visitors were fighting their way to catch a glimpse of Princess Valeria and her suitors, some even camping outside the plaza the night before, and unsurprisingly, most of them required food and drink. Business was never better.

  On a special dais constructed for the monarchy, Valeria sat on a chair near her parents, feeling irritated. In a rather valiant attempt to make her daughter look thinner, the queen had commissioned a special corset made for the occasion. A seamstress who knew some magic folk had bought a shrinking spell to be woven into the corset, which made Valeria’s waist look a lot thinner than it really was. The downside, however, was that she felt extremely hot and stuffy and had a hard time breathing.

  “Look!” Winifred pointed. “Your suitors have arrived.”

  A magnificent carriage rolled into view, resplendent with gilded trappings and shining jewels. A set of proud white horses drew the carriage, and a nimble coachman jumped off and opened the door.

  A stocky young man emerged from the carriage. He was fairly good-looking, with a fine nose and strong chin, immaculately dressed, and seemed to be in a good mood. Perhaps he was satisfied that he had beaten a number of other men to gain the right to participate in the contest.

  “The Duke of Savona,” a page announced.

  The duke strolled up to the king and queen. He gave a low bow, and upon standing, he caught sight of Valeria, who was looking very sour. Yet she was pretty enough, being slender now, and the duke seemed satisfied.

  “The Baron of Makani!” another voice called.

  An elephant slowly ambled into the arena. A slender young man with a mop of dark curls sat on top of the elephant, smiling and waving at the crowd. He also had a monkey perched on his shoulder. It was known that the Makani people were fond of animals, and every Makani owned at least one pet.

  “The Earl of Linderall!”

  There was the sound of hooves approaching, and a large black stallion galloped into the plaza. Astride the stallion was a strong, muscular-looking man with long, blond hair tied back in a ponytail. The man dismounted. He grinned, showing a row of pearly white teeth that flashed in the sunlight.

  And so the three lucky (or not) suitors lined up in front of the targets, exchanging hostile looks with each other. It has been such a long time since a man could show off his skills to win a fair lady’s hand, as the ladies had been performing their own heroic deeds.

  Valeria leaned back in her chair and wished that the contest would be over soon. Though the suitors seemed promising, she was too hot and thirsty to be excited.

  “Effie.” She beckoned to her maid, who was arguing with Winifred over which suitor was the best-looking. “Kindly bring me some lemonade. This dress is suffocating. It’s driving me crazy.”

  After she had downed three glasses, something strange happened.

  Pop.

  A button near her bodice burst.

  Pop.

  A second button rolled on the floor.

  To her horror, her dress was becoming tighter and tighter, the buttons were coming off, and the laces were loosening up. She was returning to her original self.

  “Look at Her Highness!” someone yelled.

  A murderous look came over the queen’s face, and she immediately ordered Valeria to go back to her chambers. Winifred took Valeria’s arm with a firm grip and led her away, taking care not to tread on the rolling buttons. It was bad enough bursting from your clothes in public, but it would be worse to trip and fall down.

  The contest turned out to be a complete disaster. The three suitors, upon seeing the princess swell like a bullfrog, dropped their jaws in shock. When a murmur ran through the crowd that the princess was under a shrinking spell, the three young men looked at each other with the same thought in their minds.

  The crowd had never witnessed worse shooting in their lives. The duke loosed an arrow, and it flew under the target, missing the board completely. The baron faked an injury, and the arrow ended up wedged in a lady’s wig in the audience. As for the earl, he clutched his stomach and doubled up, muttering that something was wrong with the food he ate earlier and that he had to go to the bathroom.

  Clearly, they didn’t want anything to do with Princess Valeria anymore.

  This is ridiculous! the queen thought. But there was nothing she could do, and no amount of persuasion could change the suitors’ minds.

  So Valeria’s marriage prospects, which had at first seemed exceptionally bright, now seemed dismal at best.

  The queen was outraged. Just when she thought that Valeria was going to be safely married off, her plans had backfired. Now, not only was the princess left desolate and husband-less, but the entire kingdom now knew that the beautiful Princess Valeria was in fact an overweight young woman who looked nothing like a princess should, save for her sparkling clothes and finery. Were she to don a plain, homespun gown, she would not look much different from a dairy maid or washing woman, as both were well known to be stout and solid from their physically demanding work.

  “How could the spell go wrong at the most pivotal moment?” The queen fumed, pacing around the room with great strides.

  “Calm down, my dear.” The king was enjoying his afternoon tea; it was obvious who Valeria took after. “Have a tea biscuit? They go awfully well with butter and jam.”

  The queen flared. “How can you even think of eating at a moment like this? Don’t you rea
lize that your daughter is now the laughing stock of Amaranta? Probably our neighboring kingdoms now all know that Valeria is fat and undesirable! She’ll never get a husband!”

  “Well, well, well.” The king shook his head. “But mightn’t it still be the same, if her future husband finds out she is in fact a plump lady?”

  “We can continue using the spell, and even if he discovers the truth, the marriage will have taken place. You can’t deem a royal marriage null and void without perfectly good reason for doing so.”

  “That would be a fraud.” The king popped another biscuit in his mouth. “Still, I don’t see why you need to get so riled up, my dear. If those young men purposefully lost because they saw Valeria was no beauty, well, then they aren’t worthy of her. There’s a saying in Riviera, I believe, that beauty is only face deep.”

  “Skin deep,” the queen muttered.

  The king swallowed the last bite and drank some tea from his favorite china cup. “Anyway, it’ll pass. And don’t forget that Valeria is a princess. If she can’t find a husband, I can always order some knight or lord to take her hand. And if she doesn’t marry, aren’t they saying that many princesses don’t fancy marriage these days? Our Valeria won’t be the only one.”

  The queen shook her head. “Valeria simply cannot go on like this. We’ve been too lenient and indulged her too much. Even princesses in the past were at least accomplished in something, like sewing or drawing. But Valeria? What does she know other than eating?”

  The king had to admit that she had a point.

  “I’m going to find a way for her to change.” The queen turned to leave. “But first, I must seek out that good-for-nothing goblin who sold us that shrinking spell. And don’t try to stop me.”

  The queen marched off. Being a well-trained royal, she managed to look elegant and graceful even when stomping off in a fit of temper. Whereas the king and Valeria could only waddle and were, therefore, unlikely to be graceful, whether stomping off or not.