“Whilst your mother lived, I longed to escape her clattering tongue,” he told his daughters. “Yet now would I give all my wealth to hear her speak again.” “Bestow your gold upon me, Father, and I vow that your ears shall ring with my scolding,” said Princess Drusilla. The younger princess, Margery, said nothing, but smiled sweetly and slipped her slender hand into her father’s. “You shall have wealth enough, my girl,” the King replied to his eldest daughter. “You are richly dowered, and surely you shall be wed before many weeks have passed.” Drusilla flushed, thinking of her suitor, Prince Aubrey of Langley. Each morn, Drusilla swept into the Great Hall to meet the Prince and receive his attentions. The Prince bowed low over her hand and suggested a walk in the garden, if the weather were fine, or a game of chess, if it were not. Then they would talk as old friends, and never did the Prince fail to smile and make jests, and never did Drusilla fail to laugh. But as day followed day, the Prince did not tell his love.
