The Clumsy Princess, Fiona

Fiona did her best to smile, awkward as she knew it was, as she greeted the Quenth officials who walked up to the curved banquet hall doorway.

“Welcome. How are you? How is the weather? Are trades doing well?” She tried all sorts of greetings, but none seemed to stick. The best reaction she got was a light nod before the officials would approach Donn or Hermina and give condolences for the late King Whitlock. The elder siblings accepted with grace before showing the guests to their tables.

“Heh, they’re ignoring you,” Asha whispered from Fiona’s side. She jumped at her younger brother’s sudden appearance.

“They just need a minute to shake off their travels! That’s all.”

“Why are you even here, Fiona?”

“I- It’s important for a princess to do these sorts of things, is it not?”

Asha muttered, just soft enough for only Fiona to hear, “No one wants a princess like you to do anything,” before greeting some business owners as they walked in.

“Asha, my lad, great to see you in perfect health!” the new guests shouted. If they could have phased through Fiona instead of going around, they might have without a second thought. The blue princess frowned as her brother walked away and chatted with the newcomers.

“Don’t let it get you down,” Donn said as he approached his sister from the side.

“Don’t worry, I’ve gone through worse,” Fiona replied with a deep sigh.

The royal family entered after all the guests had arrived and were seated. The banquet hall was a simple round room with a raised platform for speakers and set up with many circular tables. A long oval table stood in front of the speaker's platform, where all the royal family sat like they were about to run a panel. The staff briskly moved through the room, and soon each table was filled with enough food to justify the hall’s name.

Donn tapped on a glass to quiet the room.

“Welcome, everyone!” His voice bellowed through the space without the need for any amplification. “I am happy to see so many familiar faces again; as you know, we have been swamped as of late, but I believe it is still important that we hold these get-togethers. I promise I won’t ramble on for too long, the food has just arrived, after all, and we are eager to start eating, or eager to resume in some of your cases.” The sound of several forks being set on plates echoed through the room, along with chuckles. Donn gave only a few brief words after and ended with an ironic toast to Crenussal, which garnered laughs from some, eye rolls from others, and a few squinted eyes from the rest.

With the opening words made, the royal family proceeded to move around the room with pitchers in their hands. They stopped at each table and refilled juice while making small banter to the officials seated there. Or that was the intent.

Most guests ignored Fiona as she did her best to greet them.

“Hello, sir. How is business lately?” she cheerfully asked while leaning in to refill a green Aqueenian’s cup. The notes she previewed minutes before guests started arriving allowed her to recognize the man as the head of Quenth’s police, a bitter fellow who went by Bite—the story Donn told was that it was a nickname his subordinates came up with as a joke, at first. Unfortunately for the blue princess, she was woefully uninformed about anything beyond that.

Bite replied in a voice that was nearly a snarl, “It is good to see you again, Princess Fiona.” Fiona gulped and smiled back. She had no recollection of meeting the man; she used to pride herself on not paying attention to such things.

“Y- yes, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Not long enough, I bet,” another at the table chimed in. They chuckled along until a glare from Bite silenced them. Fiona and, most likely, the rest of the table couldn’t tell who exactly the green man was angry at, but he began twirling a long white mustache on his lip as he frowned.

“This fair is a waste of time, dear princess. You will have a formal complaint on your desk tomorrow.” Bite growled.

“Oh, things like that should really go to Donn…. I mean, what about the event displeases you?”

Bite pointed at a plate of fried greens, then gestured to his table, after which he pointed to Fiona.

“The food. The company. The servers. Shall I continue?” Fiona shook her head, but Bite continued nonetheless. “Every year, we put up with this farce, but it is most egregious that it would happen so soon after the death of our ruler. Where is your mother to address this, hmmm?”

Fiona looked around the room for support. She wasn’t sure what to do when faced with such an unhappy person. Donn’s eyes met his sisters, and he nodded. Fiona sighed in relief as she turned back to Bite and smiled.

“I’m sorry to hear that, well if you excuse–”

“Running away, huh?” A woman next to Bite shot back. The grumpy man rolled his eyes.

“N-no, there are plenty of other guests who need to be attended to!”

“We’re some of them,” a man from the same table shouted as he held up a cup. “Get to it, princess; you can at least pour some juice correctly, we hope.” Fiona looked down at the pitcher as she began to walk around the table. She didn’t see where the tablecloth stretched to the floor as she took her first step.

The blue princess slipped. Her hands went into the air as she fell backward to the floor.

Ah, so I am doomed to always fail as a princess. This was a mistake. She thought as her fingers loosened on the pitcher, and she prepared to hit her head on the ground.

The impact never came, or rather, it was soft. Bite swiftly reached his hand to her back and stopped her mid-fall. Her face grew pale as the hand pressed on the scar, even though she knew there was no way to tell through the fabric.

She hastened to her feet. Bite slid his hand away and continued to frown as if nothing had happened. The rest of the table, on the other hand, laughed. The man who had just requested a drink was drenched with the pitcher’s contents. His skin was so red that one might have assumed he was naturally ruby.

“I, uh,” Fiona stammered.

“The same princess as always, huh,” the drenched man replied. He stood up and flipped his napkin to unfold it. Though there was too much water to dry himself, he wiped his face and threw the soaked rag down before storming out of the venue.

“Is something the matter?” Donn said as he approached. His footsteps were quick but strained, like he was holding himself back from sprinting across the room. Fiona was happy he didn’t; doing so would have caused more of a scene, but she wanted him to get to the table as soon as possible.

“Havvs got the princess pissed, so she threw juice on him!” the woman by Bite said through her giggles.

“No, I!”

“Oh, careful, don’t get her mad; you might be next!” another at the table shouted before laughing.

Fiona looked with wide, moist, purple eyes at Donn. He took a deep breath and shook his head.

The banter from the table was heard by the nearby guests and soon spread across the hall. Soon all were looking at the princess with a collective mix of humor, anger, and disappointment.

“Donn, I!” Fiona pleaded. Her brother set a hand on her shoulder.

“I know. Why don’t you take your break now, get some fresh air,” he answered softly.

Fiona looked down at her bare blue arm; never so badly did she wish her Needaimus was attached—she could be gone in a flash. She nodded and began to walk out of the venue with her head down. A few steps of her retreat only incited hoots of laughter from some guests. Her shoulders tensed.

“Shut up!” Bite bellowed, loud enough to quiet the room. He stood up and wiped some invisible dust away from his pants. “If you’re going to escort someone, princess, you ought to not get such a head start,” he added in a loud grumble.

“Huh?” Fiona replied too softly for anyone to hear.

Bite whispered to Donn. The blue prince made an unpleasant frown, but nodded in reply. Fiona’s eyes lit up with understanding, and she walked with the police head outside the venue. She felt peace once they were finally standing in the hallway.

“Th-thanks,” she replied once the doors were closed behind them.

“I’m just happy to get an excuse to escape!” Bite barked before walking away.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Fiona shouted back.

“Just tell them I felt ill; it’s not inaccurate considering that company! And princess, I expect you remember me the next time we meet!” he growled.

With his last words, the green Aqueenian disappeared into the curved halls—leaving Fiona alone to think about what had happened. She pressed her back to the wall and slid down to the floor with a sigh. For a moment, she envied Gwyn and wanted to retreat to her room.