Snip Part 3

Arabella slid down the golden banister on the stairway, landed on her feet and walked sedately into the sunlit breakfast room. At the incredibly long breakfast table, her four melancholic brothers were eating porridge and french toast, and her four sisters (beautiful as the day) were drinking gray breakfast supplement in tall, fluted glasses. The Queen, of course was eating bread and honey, and the King, who didn't bother with unimportant things like food, was counting his money. The four princesses were bickering over whether or not they should attend Sleeping Beauty's sleep over, and the four princes were gravely disputing whether or not the earth was flat. Three princes said that the earth was flat, but the other prince (marginally more intelligent than the rest) said that there were mountains on it.

Arabella stood in the doorway and cast a slightly scornful eye on this pleasant family scene. No one noticed her, so she went over to her seat and sat down. No one even looked up. Arabella coughed into her hand to try and attract some attention, but the rest of her family were too occupied in debating and eating to notice. When you have cut your long, golden hair off, dyed it a deep black, and are wearing the gardener's son's clothes, you expect that you will make quite a statement. Arabella expected it. She decided to join in her sister's debate, and thus, draw attention to her de-princessified state. Before she could do that, the Queen, who had been gazing dreamily out the window at the far off blue mountains, returned in spirit to butter another piece of bread, and as she took a bite she noticed a strange looking person with extremely black hair, sitting at the other end of the table. She turned to the king, alarmed. "Henry!" She half - shrieked. "Who is that person sitting at the end of the table?" A scowl creased the King's forehead and without looking up, he muttered: " Quiet, I'm trying to count. 3,589, 3,590, 3,591..." The Queen pushed back her chair and hastily walked over to where this intruder sat. Before she'd got halfway, she recognised her daughter. Her eyes dilated and with one arm melodramatically outstretched, she screamed, "Ara - bella! WHAT have you done?" All eyes turned to the strange looking person who looked like a boy and also, remarkably like a girl, and everyone gasped. Arabella folded her arms, leaned back in her chair and grinned. This was the reaction she'd wanted.

Two hours later she was sitting on her bed, locked in her bedroom. She had been sent there by royal decree and the other members of the family were holding a conference in the Counting Room.

In the Counting Room.
"This is RE-DIC-ulous!" the King exclaimed emphatically, and ate another piece of Turkish Delight. He was enjoying himself immensely.
"How will she EVER find a husband now?" sobbed the Queen, weeping bitterly into her soggy lace handkerchief. And using italics as much as her handkerchief.
"There was always something - different - about Arabella." observed one of the princes in a hushed tone.
"Oh yes, she was never one of us. " the most beautiful (and haughty) princess said, watching the king imbibe Turkish Delight with a little disgust.
"But I always thought Arabella was such a nice girl!" exclaimed the most stupid of the princesses, Grace.
"Nice! My goodness, she used to climb trees, fight the gardener's son and write stories! Do you call that nice?" The most dreamily handsome of the princes queried.
The pretty, stupid princess was thoughtful.
"Well, no, but she was a lot of fun."
"Tomboys are just a lot of trouble." the chauvinistic prince said.
"Quite right." The King said, through a mouthful of Turkish Delight.
The Queen borrowed another hankerchief from one of the princes and moaned despairingly into it.

In her bedroom, Arabella was busy planning her escape.