The Dead Princess by Anastasia Tarasenko

“After a week of missing, Princess Leandra was found dead

at the harbour,” read out loud Orm Matson, the assistant of Lady Ulla Seaworth. “Allegedly, she committed suicide.”

Ulla felt the room start spinning: her knees suddenly buckled, and, standing nearby the window, she grabbed the heavy velvet dark-blue curtains.

“My lady, are you feeling unwell?” Orm stood up from the sofa and immediately came to the windows to her. He put his arms around her and said, “You need a seat.”

They sat on the large blue sofa, which stood in the middle of the room.

“Poor child! She was so young! How old was her?”

“Princess was fifteen. I heard maids from the palace gossip it was because of love. She discovered that her unknown lover had married. King Lir suspects the son of the Prime Minister, and Queen Kiara is in grief. The King and the Prime Minister had a tremendous row, and everyone in the palace could hear it. But they are only rumours. No one knows what happened.”

But Orm was wrong: one person knew what had happened, and he held this person in his arms. Ulla Seaworth knew. Leandra told her, but she did not know that the girl would do such stupid things. She did not know. Her face became white as a sheet.

“Ulla, you are looking pale and trembling. Shall I call the doctor? You are my closest friend; I worry about you.”

“Yes, please, call the doctor, today's dreadful weather and this terrible news, you know, make me feel dizzy,” said Ulla weakly, a wry smile playing across her thin lips. “Only you, Ormie, worry about me. Thank you.”

“Oh, I see you are getting worse, as you are being grateful!” exclaimed the man, standing up from the sofa and going to the door from the parlour.

“Fool!” the woman laughed briefly, but when she stayed alone in the room, the sadness came back to her.

When Princess Leandra anonymously came to her wooden hut, lady Seaworth was not surprised. Almost everyone from the court and related to it was her client. They knew she could solve every problem because of her uncanny abilities. During the day, she was a woman of great worship, living in the beautiful ancient mansion - but a powerful witch at night, practising magic deep in the woods. Ulla knew the youngest princess was a strange child who could ask for help from a witch.

“What do you want from me, my princess?” asked Seaworth.

The girl answered with a trembling voice. “I want someone to love me.”

“Ha, the little princess wants a boy to love her. How rare!” the witch laughed cynically. “What can you give me for his love? Do you know the price will be high?”

“Ask whatever you want! I can give you gold or precious diamonds!”

“Oh no! It is merely enough for your problem. It must be something personal and valuable for you! I know your price is the touches of your beloved!”

“Touches?”

“Yes, you cannot feel your love because all touches, even the slightest ones, will bring unbearable pain and incurable wounds,” said the witch gravely. The dead silence reigned in the dark room, filled with the heavy odour of wormwood. Leandra’s face went white, and her eyes grew wide. Hiding a self-satisfied smirk, Ulla continued, “But when both of you drink a potion, he falls in love with you, and touches will not disturb you anymore. However, if only you take this drink, and he does not, you will die in a week. Are you ready to pay that price?”

“Yes,” said the girl firmly.

Having got the potion, the girl went away from her. Ulla should have understood Leandra’s intentions and eagerness to take a potion. What a stupid fool! Seaworth thought the princess would be afraid and not drink the potion given to her. Her heart ached when she realised what had happened. She had killed this girl! Her garment turned wet with a cold sweat, covering all of her body. She should not have let her hatred control her emotions. It should not matter that Kiara rejected her many years ago, choosing her stupid husband and the crown instead of Ulla’s love. It should not have mattered. Oh heavens, she unintentionally killed an innocent child, the child of her love! When the wound of the breakup was open, she sought sweet revenge. She wanted them to suffer, and Kiara, her poor Kiara, experienced grief as her daughter died. She was a monster. Kiara would sentence her to death, and she readily accepted this punishment.

Ulla heard voices: Orm might have come with the doctor. A moment later, the door opened, and two men entered the room.

“Good morning, Lady Seaworth,” said the doctor, a man of sixty years old with a white head. “Your assistant told me you are feeling unwell. What is bothering you?”

“I killed Princess Leandra,” thought the woman but said, “I almost fainted in the morning.”

The doctor jotted it down in his notebook and asked, “I see you are sweating; your eyes are red as you have a fewer, but you are unnaturally pale. What did you eat yesterday, and have you eaten today? Have you got any appetite?”

“I cannot remember what I ate yesterday,” said Ulla, but her assistant interrupted her.

“Yesterday, she ate a porridge with berries for breakfast, mushroom cream soup with spinach and filet mignon with gnocchi for dinner, and a cup of tea for supper, but nothing today,” said Orm. The doctor and Ulla looked at him, astonished. He reddened and murmured, “I helped our cook create the menu.”

“Fine. So, you have no appetite, am I right?”

“Yes, doctor.”

While the medic was writing something in his notebook, Ulla and Orm were looking at the window, embarrassed by the awkwardness.

“I think, my lady, you have indigestion because of berries and mushrooms, which was strengthened by the weather, and, I guess, the tragic news about our little princess. Oh, the police invited me to examine the body.”

“Have you seen her?” asked the woman in fear.

“Yes. I found near Leandra's body this bottle,” said the doctor, and took it out of his bag.

Ulla felt weak as she lost consciousness at that moment, and her hand started trembling. She was afraid to look at the container and confirmed her fears. She glanced at the bottle and froze. It was full. Full!

“The police and I are sure: this liquid did not cause the death, but I must scrutinise it carefully. It might have helped to solve this awful case.”

Lady Seaworth cleared her throat and asked fearfully, “So, what is the cause of the death?”

“Numerous serious open wounds all over her body.”