The Laundress and the Spinning Wheel

“Mother, what’s this device?”

The old laundress turned away from her wash to inspect the drawing her young daughter held out to her. “That is nothing but an old spinning wheel, love,” Mother said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“What’s a spinning wheel?” The girl asked.

Mother sighed and set the wash aside before explaining, “A spinning wheel is used to make thread. We used to use them all the time ‘till they was outlawed. Where’d you find one?”

“Up in one of the storerooms in the western tower,” Evenie said casually.

Mother smacked her palms to her lap in annoyance. “You shouldn’t go wandering around the Lady’s castle, Evenie. You’re going to get yourself into trouble. How many times have I told you?”

“But why don’t we use the wheels anymore?” Evenie asked, blatantly ignoring the frustration in her mother’s voice. She examined her sketch more closely. The contraption she found appeared far more efficient than the seamstresses’ drop spindle. Why would people give that up for something more time-consuming?

Mother took up her basket of laundry and resumed washing the linens. “Because the king said so. Something about a curse put on the princess many years ago. Though I haven’t the foggiest as to why he’s kept it up. Blasted girl’s been missing since her christening some eighteen years.”

That caught Evenie’s attention. “What curse?”

“Enough about it, Evenie,” Mother said firmly, cutting the air with her hand. “You have more important things to attend to than curses and princesses.”

Evenie could see she wouldn’t get anything else from this conversation. Which was a shame because curses were where stories got good. She tucked the sketch back into her pocket and began to help with the wash. What kind of curse involved outlawing spinning wheels? Sure the needle at the end looked pretty sharp; other than that, the wheel appeared relatively harmless. Besides, princesses didn’t need to use them, so how would the two even connect? It seemed poor planning on the sorcerer’s part unless the princess was supposed to trip and jab her eye out.

Evenie shuddered. That would be a horrible and painful fate. Seemed like that would be connected to making the princess ugly. It was either something terrible like that, or the princess would somehow be forced to weave forever until she died. Were curses usually dark or ridiculous? Many of the stories that Mother used to tell her had silly curses where someone danced forever or turned into a mouse.

On the other hand, if the princess was missing, how would the people know whether she’s fallen victim to the curse? Was there an extra step that Mother didn’t know about? How does a princess even go missing? One would think that the safest place would be at the castle, where her family could be sure there would be no spinning wheels. Or what if she wasn’t actually missing and the king knew where she was, but the general public didn’t? That would be clever of them.

So many thoughts and questions raced through her mind, but one thing remained clear; Whoever this princess was, she was about the same age as Evenie. It was distressing to think that someone her age was suffering under the evils of a curse.

“What did the princess look like?” Evenie asked as they took the linens out to hang on the line. There were a few other laundresses outside, some working and others chatting in the shade.

“I don’t know, dear,” she said, setting down her basket. Mother groaned as she straightened; her hands pressed to her lower back to ease her aching bones. Mother was one of the oldest among the Lady’s laundresses. A few strands of her white hair fell free from the cap that all laundresses wore and fluttered in the evening breeze. She held her face up to the sun and smiled a little. “I heard she had hair as yellow as sunshine and skin as white as milk.”

“Who are we talking about?” One of the maids asked as she came to help.

“The missing princess,” Evenie explained as she and another folded the dry sheets.

Another maid called from under the tree, “I heard the fairies gifted her with violet eyes and rose-red lips.”

“I was told one gave her wit sharp as a whip,” said another.

“She was given grace!”

“And a beautiful singing voice!”

“In all, she’s s’pposed to be a real gem,” said the first maid. “One that would make everyone in the kingdom fall to their knees in reverence.”

Evenie couldn’t help but make a face as more and more gifts were listed. How much could one person need? She supposed that grace, beauty, and wit were wonderful gifts for a princess. Sunshine yellow hair, milk-white skin, rose-red lips, and violet eyes? What kind of gifts were those? The ability to cook without a recipe, sew and stitch without mistake, sing without learning a single note- marvelous talents, indeed, but what if her mother wanted to teach her one of those skills? How incredibly rude of those fairies to take those moments away from the princess’s mother.

Evenie shook her head and went back to the laundry as the other women exchanged rumors about the missing princess. It didn’t seem to occur to them the unfortunate fate bestowed upon the girl without her say. Then a thought occurred, “Why was the princess cursed?”

The maids fell into a tense silence. Many of them finished hanging the wash before scurrying off. Those who remained looked at her as though she asked how to access the treasury.

Mother helped her finish hanging the wash before escorting her to the servant’s dining hall for dinner. “It’s a delicate topic, love….” The hesitation and fear in her voice were concerning.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Evenie responded quietly.

As they crossed the threshold into the castle, she suddenly felt the need to look over her shoulder. The atmosphere changed indescribably, yet she could almost feel it. A skin-crawling sensation that felt like thousands of eyes now watched her in judgment. It made her want to pull away from her mother and run. She ignored it and focused on getting to the dining hall.

Mother patted her arm reassuringly; completely unaware she startled Evenie out of her thoughts. “I know, my love, but it’s best that we don’t talk about it anymore. It doesn’t affect us much anyway. Besides, we’ve only got a few more hours left as it is.”

Evenie gave her mother a curious look. “Why’s that?”

“The princess’s birthday is today. I know this because the whole kingdom had made a big to-do about it when she was born. Won’t never forget it. So, her eighteenth birthday will come and go, and so long as that happens without incident, then everything will go on as normal.”

The curse only lasted until the princess’s eighteenth birthday. A strange condition, but perhaps curses and spells could only hold a person for so long before going bad. Like how bread will mold if left uneaten, wine will turn to vinegar, and clothes will fall apart if worn too long. Even so, it didn’t really comfort Evenie to know that something as unexplainable as magic had properties similar to familiar objects.

Once they entered the dining hall, the uncomfortable sensations of the hallway disappeared. The room was brightly illuminated with candles and magic glow lights. People everywhere were laughing and chatting, setting a level of ease that pushed the darkness away. As she and Mother gathered their plates and found a place to sit, the rest of the evening passed as uneventful as any other. Evenie and the other servants laughed, and they pressured her to sing. It had always been a talent of hers though she took no true delight in it.

As the night wore on, she understood why they wanted her to sing. Outside, the sky had gone dark with ominous, rolling clouds. Thunder rumbled, and trees bent with sharp gusts of angry wind. People closest pulled the curtains shut to block out the dreadful sight. They turned to Evenie and listened to her and the others as they sang. Then, as though a spell had been cast, the tension slowly ebbed away. People began to relax.

All except for Evenie.

When she finally pulled herself from the ensemble, her head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. She felt tired- weighed down by some unseen force. Evenie excused herself to her room. Assuring everyone that all was well but that she was suddenly weary.

However, as she made her way back to the room she shared with her mother, Evenie realized that all was certainly not well. Evenie found herself not traveling down the servant’s corridors but wandering the long hallways of the central portion of the castle. Between blink and blink, she was further away from where she needed to be. Even more worrisome, nothing she did made her stop. She managed to slow herself for a moment, wondering what was going on, but then her feet immediately picked up the pace, and she was pulled deeper into places she shouldn’t be.

As she passed one of the many portraits that hung in the Lady’s castle, Evenie realized with horror that had wandered this area when she discovered the spinning wheel.

She needed to stop, but with all her will, she could not halt the treacherous momentum of her stride. At some point, the cap of her laundress uniform had fallen off, allowing her long golden hair to flow freely down her back. Mother had always complemented its color, like the sun in summer.

The eerie green glow of the Lady’s magical torches cast wicked dancing shadows along the walls and turned Evenie’s already pale skin a sickly sea foam color. Terrible ghostly shapes taunted Evenie as she was led along by whatever unseen force guided her. Shiny suits of armor observed her like guards watching a prisoner on their way to the gallows. Paintings of haughty ladies and snobby men eyed her with contempt; Even the playful fairies and fauns showed her no pity.

Evenie screamed for her body to stop and turn around in her mind. With some force of will, she managed to grab the worn wooden rail of the western tower stairwell with white-knuckled force. Her jaw ached as she clenched in concentration. Sweat began to bead on her forehead.

Evenie desperately wished she could shout for anyone to help her and take her back to her room. She wanted her mother. Wanted to be with her and told that everything was going to be alright. There was no one. Only her fading will to brace against the railing.

“A curse was put on the princess many years ago,” Echoed her mother’s voice.

That had nothing to do with Evenie. It was far more likely that she was being punished for going somewhere in the castle that she shouldn’t have, for snooping around the Lady’s things.

“The princess’s eighteenth birthday is today.”

Mine isn’t for another month; this has nothing to do with me! She screamed in her mind.

She was a laundress for an enchantress! Her hair was not the color of sunshine, nor her skin white as milk. The soft pink of her lips held no comparisons to roses- She was ordinary! Her singing and her wit were no better than the other girls’.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Crooned an aged and authoritative voice. Evenie didn’t have to look to know the Lady of the castle was standing behind her.

The elegant Lady’s heels and cane softly tapped on the rug as she stepped closer. When she was beside Evenie, the elderly woman fixed her cold black eyes on the girl then casually turned them to the dark, winding stairs.

“My lady, forgive me,” Evenie knew she shouldn’t speak to the Lady without express permission. Still, it was growing more difficult to keep herself from ascending the stairs. Her foot slipped forward, and Evenie had to force herself to brace it against the step to add leverage. “Is- Is this punishment for wandering the castle? I’m sorry! I didn’t touch anything, I swear, nor did I take anything. I only saw the wheel.”

The Lady turned her cold gaze back to the girl and raised a shrewd eyebrow. “The wheel?” She drummed her red painted nails on the handle of her cane- the jewels of her many rings glittering in the soft green light of the hallway. “While I’m sure your mother-- Ruthe, was it? Yes, well, while I’m sure Ruthe taught you better manners than to wander my castle like a common scoundrel, I would not curse someone for it. No, no, something much more sinister calls you to the spindle.”

She paused for a moment, tapping her walking stick on the stone stair. The sound of the wood striking echoed louder than the thunder that roared outside. “Curious that you should be here right under my nose, Princess Rose. Right here in plain sight where one would suppose I would be most aware. Yet for eighteen years you have been doing my laundry, and now here you are clinging to my stair rails as if your life depended on it.”

“I- I’m sorry, my lady, but I don’t understand…” Evenie’s fingers hurt, and her strength was quickly fading the longer she held on.

“I would not expect you to. I suspect your mother and father, the king and queen, still believe that you are safe with the fairies who took you away all those years ago when I placed a curse on you.”

“I’m not a princess!” Evenie snapped. Upon realizing that she had just yelled at the Lady, her fingers slipped, and she stumbled further up the stairs. “I’m sorry, my lady, I didn’t mean to--”

“It is perfectly alright, dear,” said the Lady. She gently patted a pale hand to imaginary loose hair, appearing to not have a care in the world. She followed Evenie up the stairs. “You’ll never make it, you know. The curse will last until midnight. Your strength, if not your will, will fade, and you will go to the wheel either with dignity or crawling on your hands and knees. And you are a princess, my little Rose. I never forget a face; though apparently, I am less observant than I would like.”

Tears stung Evenie’s eyes. “Why? Why curse me? What could I have possibly done to offend you?”

The Lady scoffed, “Oh, it was not you, princess, but they who brought you into this world.” She casually followed as Evenie moved jerkily forward. “‘Tis very rude to not invite someone as powerful as myself to a christening.”

“That’s it?!” Newfound strength allowed Evenie the ability to pull herself back a couple of steps. “I’m cursed- if I truly am the princess- over a party invitation?”

The Lady chuckled in her profound, haughty way. “Oh my dear, had you been raised in the environment of your birth, you would understand the intricacies of court manners. Your birth, in particular, was a grandly awaited event as the king and queen had been without child for some time since their marriage. Everyone in the kingdom was invited from nobility to serf— everyone except me. I gave your father one chance to apologize publicly for his disgraceful gesture, and he failed. By cursing you, their only child, I punished them as well. ‘Tis all straightforward, you see.” She stepped aside and motioned up the stairs with her heavy cane. “Up you go then. Onward to your fate, dear Princess Rose.”

Evenie shook her head. “No.”

“No?”

“No!” The girl shouted loud enough for her determination to echo down the halls. “I won’t! I’ll hang on to this rail until my fingers bleed if I have to.”

“It is a simple prick of the finger, dear. ‘Tis nothing serious,” assured the Lady. “You will only bleed a little and fall into a deep, never-ending sleep. No real harm.”

“No real harm?! I’ll be asleep forever until what?” Evenie dug her short fingernails into the wood banister. “I don’t want to be cursed into sleep! I want to go back to my mother.”

“The queen--”

“Not the queen; Ruthe! My mother the laundress, my family among the maids, butlers, stable hands, cooks, the… the….” She started to cry. Her arms and legs trembled with the effort to prevent the curse from pitching her bodily up the stairs. Closer to the dreaded wheel. Evenie didn’t care about people she never met- as cruel as it may have sounded. She loved the family she had been placed in and would not wish to be separated from them.

“You are happy here?” The Lady repeated with skepticism clear in her voice. “My dear, you could be waited on hand and foot. With ponies and dogs of the highest pedigree. Parties, and gowns, and jewels the likes of which most girls your age could never dream of. No more calloused hands or skin burned with lye.”

They moved step by step up the tower stairs until they were mere feet from the storeroom that held the spinning wheel.

“Please, my lady!” Evenie sobbed as her fingers attempted to dig into the stone wall. She could feel the skin tearing. Tiny tracks of red trailed behind her fingertips as she was pulled along. “I don’t want to fall into an eternal sleep! I want to go back to my room. Back to the she who raised me all these eighteen years!”

The Lady watched with the same cold stare as Evenie stumbled away from the wall. The girl’s hand writhed painfully before it gripped the wrought iron knob of the storeroom door. Like a lock on a prison cell, the heavy handle clacked, and the hinges squealed as the door opened. Still, the Lady did nothing while the young girl fixed her bloodied fingers to the door.

“You would rather be a laundress over a princess?” The Lady asked, her tone reserved.

“I absolutely would,” Evenie said, her voice heavy with desperation.

“Even for she who placed a curse upon you at birth?”

Evenie was quiet for only a moment. She replied honestly, “My Lady, you have done me no wrong in the years I have been in your service. You have been good to me and those I care deeply for. I have no quarrel with you, and should you release me from this curse, I shall continue to serve under you until I am dismissed.”

The Lady said nothing as the curse pulled Evenie away from the door closer to the baleful, glistening point of the spindle. Evenie’s hand raised with unnatural force to prick a finger to the tip even as her blood dripped onto the shiny surface and wooden base of the needle. Then, without warning, they were in her mother’s room.

Ruthe awoke with a start and leaped to her feet upon seeing the Lady of the castle in her room and her daughter’s distressed expression. “What’s happened? Evenie? Milady? What’s going on?”

“An arrangement has been made,” the Lady explained. To Evenie, she added with a soft smile, “You may relax now, dear. Your will and determination have bought you enough time; should you attempt to return to the storeroom now, even at a sprint, I doubt you will make it in time.”

Unwilling to loosen her resolve, Evenie asked, “The curse?”

“Will pass.”

“Curse?” Mother asked the two women as she placed comforting hands around Evenie’s shoulders.

“It would seem your kind heart brought the target of my ire into my domain many years ago, Madame laundress. I remember it now; you had returned from visiting your sister in the town not two days from my castle and returned with a baby in tow. At that time, I thought nothing of it, believing it to be a niece or nephew in need of care.” The Lady placed her fingertips on Evenie’s shoulder to keep her from moving forward. “It seems that in truth, Evenie- or Princess Rose- had been lost by the enchantresses charged with her care.”

Mother swallowed and admitted, “I found her in the woods. No sign of another human being anywhere. Just a little baby girl all alone.”

The Lady sighed and cast a casual glance out the window. “Not long now.” After a pause, she continued, “Perhaps I let my ire get the better of me all those years ago. Evenie, you do understand what your absence will mean to the kingdom, do you not? The king and queen have not had another child in your absence. There will be no heir from their line should you choose to remain a servant.”

Evenie’s fists clenched. “To speak plainly, my lady, that doesn’t sound like my problem.”

“Does it not?”

“They had eighteen years to prepare in the event I didn’t return,” Evenie said plainly. “Eighteen years to try for another child. If their line ends, it is not because of me. I am not a princess; I am a laundress- maid to the Lady of the Wood. And I am happy here with my family among the staff. This is my happily ever after.”

Evenie’s breath came faster as the curse gave one last urge for her to run to the spindle. With the help of the Lady and Mother, there was no moving forward. Though her body ached and burned to the point where it hurt, the three of them managed to last until the far away clock tower struck midnight.

With the first gong of twelve, Evenie’s heart pounded. Her bones rattled, blood thundered in her ears, and dark tunnels blinded her vision. All around her the room spun, and there was a roaring like that of a ferocious beast.

She came to with the feeling of a soft bed beneath her and warm blankets tucked against her chin. Evenie licked her lips, her mouth dreadfully dry, and her jaw ached something fierce. A gentle hand helped her sit up, and Mother guided a cup of water to her lips.

Outside, birds chirped, and the sun shone the same as any regular day. Were it not for the pounding headache and the bloodied bandages on her fingers, Evenie would have said the previous night’s events were that of a horrible nightmare.

“I can’t believe it,” Mother whispered almost to herself. “This whole time you was the missing princess.”

Evenie shook her head. She wrapped her arms around the older woman and buried her face in Ruthe’s long greying hair. “No princess. I’ve only ever been the daughter of a laundress.”

Mother held her back. “You’ll regret this choice someday.” The tone in her voice had hope that she was wrong.

“I can’t miss a life I’ve never known. It would be cruel to leave you, mother.” Evenie leaned back and smiled. She held Mother’s hands in hers, and as the two of them glanced out the window, Evenie sighed and said, “I didn’t have a choice when the curse was placed upon me, but I had one when it tried to take me away from you. This was my choice, and I wouldn’t change it for all the pretty gowns and royal servants in the world.”