Chapter Seventeen: In Which Lady Ann gets rather bored.

Lady Antoinetta Bernadetta Clarissa Drusilla Eleanora Georgetta Henrietta Isabella Juanita Katherina Lolita Marguerita Nerissa Octavia Petunia Quintessa Roberta Suzetta Tabitha Ursula Venitia Wilhelmina Xenia Zelda of Erd sat at the window of her tower room and sighed. She was bored. She was so bored, in fact, that she was actually sitting at this window. She didn't like sitting at the window, because it was so far up it made her giddy. It also made her think that maybe the tower was swaying in the wind, or about to fall down. But it was the only place to look out from and see what was happening, and there was nothing else to do in the tower room.

Lady Ann had been in the tower room for three days now, and she had completely exhausted her resources of thinking of things to do. She was clean from head to toe now, having had the longest bath of her life and scrubbed hard with a scrubbing brush for a very long time. Her hair was clean and sensibly braided to keep it out of the way. She was dressed in a gown provided to her by Prince Rupert - blue like her own, and made of a brocade with an intricate silvery pattern. She had to admit Prince Rupert was quite a good host, apart from the fact that she was locked by herself in the top of the tallest tower until she agreed to marry him.

He had provided everything of the best to her. Her gown was lovely and of highest quality - although she had also mended her own as best she could, just for something to do. The bath he had provided was also very ornate, and she pitied the poor servants who had to bring her hot water. Perhaps not the most thoughtful master then, no matter how good he was to his guests or prisoners. The food he gave her was similar good, and in plentiful supply. No thought of starving her into submission.

No, all he did was send her pictures of kittens and bad love letters, and let her to herself. Was he hoping to bore her into giving into his demands? Lady Ann was not sure, but it did seem a reasonably good choice of strategy. No blood, no deep resentment from having been mistreated, no scary protuding bones from having been starved...just so bored you'd agree to anything, just for something to do.

She sighed, and looked around the room for something to occupy her attention. There was the bed, with its feather mattress freshly plumped and turned, its covering tidily straightened. Everything was perfect there. Nothing to do. Her dress, neatly hanging from a hook in the corner. The sleeve had been irrepairable without the original sleeve which, so far as Lady Ann knew, was still hooked in the window she had climbed out of. What an idiot she had been! Climbing out that window was not an adventure! Climbing out this window would be, she thought, glancing at it and shuddering. It would not be an adventure she would be trying in a hurry though. Or ever.

Her gaze continued around the room. She had counted all the beams - There were five. She had counted all the pieces of wood that made up the door - seven. She had counted each of the fifty four flagstones on the floor - three times, just to make sure. She could not count the bricks that made up her walls because they were coated in something to make the walls smooth, but she was seriously considering chipping at it with her fingers. There was just nothing to do.

She got up from her seat by the window to do what she considered to be her daily pacing. Back and forwards across the room one hundred times she went. She counted in every language she knew, and she walked then ran then skipped, then hopped, then even danced across the room.
And yet, when she returned to the window to look out on the world, it seemed as if nothing had changed. The sun had not moved. The shadows had not changed length. She sighed heavily again and put her head on the wide windowsill. The stone was cool and smooth, but not very interesting. She lifted her head again. There must be something to do.

How could she get out of here? Planning an escape might pass the time. She still had her bottle from the very dirty inn. She could crack the servant who brought her food every meal time over the head with it and escape. Lady Ann wrinkled her nose. No, if she was going to crack anyone on the head with that bottle it would be Prince Rupert. He was the one who was keeping her here, after all.

She could bribe the servant, she supposed, but since she didn't actually have any money on her at the moment, that might be difficult. She rejected that idea as well.

If only she could fly - well, she couldn't, so that was no good. If only a pig would fly past. She knew they did sometimes, because she was born in the year of the flying pig, and there couldn't very well be a year of the flying pig if flying pigs didn't exist, but they must be extremely rare, because she had never seen one and she'd seen all kinds of rare animals. Princes and Kings and Queens tended to collect all sorts of odd menageries, and she'd seen everything from the Unusually Large Warbler of the mountains to the Lesser Spotted Horned Sea Monster of the Far Islands, but no flying pigs. Well, she wasn't going to reasonably be able to rely on one of them to save her either.

How long would it take her to grow her hair long enough to reach the ground? Then she could hack it off and climb down it. But how would she know it was long enough? What if she'd cut it off and climbed down only to find she was still several hundred metres above the ground? Besides, it would take forever.

Still turning these thoughts over in her mind, she gazed out the window. One thing she must admit, she thought, this tower has a marvellous view. She looked down at the castle, with its forest of towers. She looked through the clouds that floated past her tower down into the courtyard of the castle, where scuttling people looked like busy ants.

She leaned as far out of the window as she dared to see the hillside behind her. It looked green and lush, and altogether strangely incongruous with the grey and looming castle in which she was being kept prisoner. It was the sort of castle which would look best atop a gigantic cliff, with a zigzagging path with sheer drops on either side leading up to it and maybe a fragile bridge or two on the way. It would always be night there, she thought, a stormy night! She giggled at this, taking refuge in any sort of amusement she could muster.

She could see far off into the distance that the land met the sky in a blue haze. She might be able to see the sea, but she wasn't sure. It was a long way off if she could. It was all too hazy. She wished she had paid more attention in geography lessons. Then she might be able to tell where she was. As it was, she supposed she was in Xanadu, since Prince Rupert was the prince of Xanadu (at least, loosely, in so much as anyone was Prince of anywhere these days), but she had no idea where Xanadu was in relation to the summer palace of the House of Erd. Why had she not listened more closely?

Another sigh. Maybe she could sleep. No, she already slept too much. There had to be something else she could do. Her eyes strayed to the table, which was stacked with papers. She had had a letter -together with a picture of a kitten - delivered to her with every meal, all from Prince Rupert. She had so far only read the first of these, and put it back down very quickly. She wasn't sure whether to be amused or revolted by them. They all appeared to be love letters.
She had looked at the pictures of kittens though. She wasn't sure why Prince Rupert was sending her them, but they were cute and distracted her from her boredom for at least a few moments. She'd organized them into a line going from her favourite (closest to the door) to her least favourite (closest to the window). Her favourite was the one with the little fluffy grey kitten with white sock biting a great big red ball of wool. Her least favourite was the one of the black kitten looking straight at the artist. It was cute and all, but not very interesting. Lady Ann was a very discerning judge of kitten art.

With nothing better to do, Lady Ann moved to the table to read the next of the letters. She opened it, and noted with amusement that it read exactly the same as the one she had read early.
"Dearest Lady Lady Antoinetta Bernadetta Clarissa Drusilla Eleanora Georgetta Henrietta Isabella Juanita Katherina Lolita Marguerita Nerissa Octavia Petunia Quintessa Roberta Suzetta Tabitha Ursula Venitia Wilhelmina Xenia Zelda of Erd,
It is I, your humble servant Prince Rupert of Xanadu who writes in pursuit of that most dearest object - your hand and your heart. Those most dearest objects. I beg you will forgive my deed in abducting you thus and soften your feelings towards me! Be mine! I have written you this most touching and charming poem in the hopes that soon your feelings towards me will turn to love."
Then, in beautiful cursive script, the following poem was inscribed.
"Antoinetta, amazing and lovely,
Bernadetta, beautiful and lovely,
Clarissa, charming and lovely,
Drusilla, darling and lovely,
Eleanora, elegant and lovely,
Georgetta, gorgeous and lovely,
Henrietta, handsome and lovely,
Isabella , incandescent and lovely,
Juanita, jolly and lovely,
Katherina, k(a scribble) and lovely,
Lolita, lovely and lovely,
Marguerita, magnificent and lovely,
Nerissa, noble and lovely,
Octavia, omnipotent and lovely,
Petunia, perfect and lovely,
Quintessa, quintessential and lovely,
Roberta, romantic and lovely,
Suzetta, smashing and lovely,
Tabitha, touching and lovely,
Ursula, unbeatable and lovely,
Venitia, victorious and lovely,
Wilhelmina, wonderful and lovely,
Xenia, xtra gorgeous and lovely,
Zelda, zesty and lovely, of Erd, be mine!"
This poem made her think several things, some quite exclamatory. Firstly, that Prince Rupert was rubbish at writing poetry, and also that he had not been able to think of something that started with K to call her, which was quite correct. Lady Ann was not called Lady Ann the Astute, but it would have been quite apt at this moment.
It also made her think that Prince Rupert did not know what omnipotent meant, and further that she really needed to escape from this tower. She checked through the rest of the letters. They were all the same. She was sure now that he intended to bore her into submission. He certainly wasn't going to win her over with this poetry.
She began idly folding one of the letters into a dart, and flew it around the room. Maybe if she made one into a really big dart she could get on it and fly away. Or she could make a bedsheet into a parachute....If you want to die, Lady Ann said to herself, stopping that train of thought before it left the station.
But she could do something with the darts, she thought. If she could get some ink from Prince Rupert, she could make a dart that sailed out beyond the castle walls, and some one somewhere would be sure to find it and then surely some one would come and save her. She held up no expectation that her family would come for her. They probably hadn't even noticed she was gone. They were a bit like that.
And so she started making darts, folding the heavy paper this way and that to try and get a dart that would fly far enough to get her message to someone who wouldn't take it straight back to Prince Rupert. She couldn't practise sending them far, as she didn't want to fly them out the window and have them plummet straight down into the courtyard. She didn't want Prince Rupert finding out her plan and putting some dastardly stop to it. All he'd have to do was stop sending her letters and not let her have any ink.
So she threw them across her room, standing on her bed and throwing them at the opposite wall to get maximum flying distance. She tested effectiveness from how crumpled they were when they hit the opposite wall - surely the more crumpled ones would have being flying faster and might therefore be expected to go further before they fell out of the sky? She hoped so at any rate.
This activity occupied her for quite some time, and she didn't notice that time was not passing quite as slowly as before, until suddenly it was lunchtime and there was a servant at the door.
Lady Ann had to move swiftly to cover up the evidence of the dart making before the servant had lifted the heavy bar that kept the door closed and come in. She stood in the corner with all the darts beneath her heavy skirts and nodded coolly at the man who brought in her tray and removed her breakfast dishes.
"Hot chicken and salad today miss!" he said with what Lady Ann considered completely unwarranted cheerfulness. It had been hot chicken and salad for lunch every day so far.
She nodded coolly at him again. She quite prided herself on her ability to nod coolly, and every time she did it the Lady Ann in her head jumped up and down excitedly. It made her want to laugh, which would quite ruin the effect, and she had to hold her breath until she heard the man lock the door and go off down the stairs. By this stage she was nearly purple and had to hold the wall while she laughed heartily.
Then she considered that maybe they were drugging her food. She was laughing when nothing really was funny. Was she going mad? she was sure people in stories went mad when they were trapped with nothing to do. It could easily happen.
Still chuckling slightly she sat down at the table to eat her meal. She lifted the lid. Yes, it was indeed hot chicken and salad. And there was her letter. She opened it. It was exactly the same as the others. Did the man have no originality. She scanned the poem and looked at the 'K' line. No, he hadn't been able to think of anything. She wondered if he would think of anything, or if she would have either given in or thrown herself out the window in pure boredom by then.
Even with a plan, Lady Ann wasn't terribly hopeful. And she still had to get ink.

(Word Count: 22060)