People bustled around me, looking at all the items stacked on either side of the narrow street. I heard some people say that this happened every so often, that the palace would offer items for sale before they were thrown away. It was dark now, and I could hear the rain drops hitting the canvas pavilion above me. The smell of the rain, mingled with the scent of dirt and wet stone, blew past me on a chilly breeze. The breeze ruffled the skirt of my long dress, made of deep blue satin with accents of black lace and beads. A decorative short cape was clasped around my shoulders, and fine black dancing slippers covered my feet. But they all paled in comparison to the jeweled crown that sat on my head, with chocolate brown ringlets flowing down my back and around my face. Some said I was beautiful, but I didn’t believe them. For nothing, not my fine dress or jeweled crown, caught anyone’s attention. People passed by on the streets, occasionally looking in my direction, but never coming near me, never stopping to take a closer look. I felt my heart sink further and further as I watched them with my sad, blue eyes. If I was beautiful, then surely someone would want me, I thought sadly. But they never did.
At least I could be out in the fresh air instead of in the bottom of a musty crate. Every so often, someone would open up the box, pull me out and look at me for a moment or two, then shake their heads and put me back. I didn’t understand why. I had thought that I was going to be gift for something special. That’s what the person who had ordered me from the workshop had said. I still remember the day, when I was put on a table in a brightly lit room, decorated with banners and flowers, with musicians playing nearby as people came in. I remember standing up as straight as I could on my stand, waiting, waiting for the person I was going to be given to. I thought I saw her, someone dressed like me, the same blue satin dress with black lace, the same dark ringlets, the same jeweled crown on her head. But when she saw me, she put her hand to her mouth and screamed, not in delight, but horror. There had been so much noise after that as people ran around, some taking the girl out of the room, others shouting at guards and servants. Then someone yanked me from the table and out of that magnificent room, stuffing me into the musty box.
I had been confused. The others in the workshop had said that people would often put us in glass cabinets, where people could look at us, where they could admire us. So I decided that I must have been hideous, for the woman to scream like that. I must be awful, for them to hide me away.
A woman stopped in front of me, looking at the various crates placed around the table where I stood, pulling me from my memories. She wore a heavy cloak over a plain traveling dress. The hood of the cloak covered her hair, but she had kind, brown eyes, and a pleasant smile. Her gaze finally found me among the clutter, and I held my breath, but she did not react as the other girl had so long ago. She did not scream and hurry away. Instead, she tilted her head to one side, then came towards me.
“See something you like?” asked the man behind me, the man in charge of the pavilion.
The woman nodded. “Perhaps. Is this doll for sale?” I held my breath. Me…she was asking about me!
The man didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice was hushed. “You want the doll?” he asked. “Are you sure?”
The woman reached a gloved hand up and brushed a bit of dirt off of my face. “Is she not for sale?” she asked.
“No, no!” the man said quickly. “Please, you can have her for five silvers.”
The woman withdrew her hand. “Five silvers?” she asked in surprise. I felt my heart begin to sink again. Perhaps the man had asked too much. But the woman kept speaking, “Why so little?”
The man shrugged. “If you ask me, it’s still too much, for something that’s such bad luck.”
No! She would surely leave me now. No one wanted something that came with bad luck, or at least, that’s what I had heard the man say to several of the other servants all day. Was that why they had stuffed me away? Because I was… bad luck?”
But the woman stayed. “Bad luck,” she repeated. “Then why are you selling it?”
The man straightened a display of hair things beside me. “It’s Her Highness’s order. If no one buys it today, we toss it with the rest.”
The woman shook her head. “I can’t believe you would throw away something so beautiful. How could she possibly be bad luck?”
Beautiful? She thought I was…beautiful? I studied the woman. If she thought I was beautiful, did that mean…that she wanted me?
“You must be traveling through, for you not to have heard,” the man said. The woman nodded, and the man continued. “The thing looks just like the Princess. It just showed up at her coronation, same dress, same crown, same everything. Now tell me it isn’t bad luck, appearing like some omen or something. Some of the nobility thought it was a threat from another kingdom. They should have gotten rid of it sooner if you ask me.”
The woman shook her head sadly. “But that was years ago. Surely, she does not still have such bitter feelings towards the poor doll?”
Years? Had it really been that long? It was hard to know how much time had passed in the dark of a box.
“And besides,” the woman continued, “who is to say that it was meant as an insult? Perhaps whoever brought her thought the Princess would be honored by it?”
The man shook his head. “Then they didn’t know very much about our customs here. Dolls are toys for children, not offerings for nobility! If the Princess wanted to remember the occasion, she would have her portrait taken and made an entry to the Archives.” He sighed. “Besides, the Princess has always despised dolls. She finds them unsettling already.”
“Unsettling?” the woman repeated.
“Yes,” the man said. “Her sister loved them. I understand she had quite the collection.”
The woman shifted her cloak. “I wasn’t aware the Princess had a sister,” she said.
The man nodded. “Not many do. They were twins, you see, identical. The sister was born first, so she would have been the one to be crowned. She passed away, just two weeks before she was to be crowned, in a carriage accident.”
“How awful!” the woman muttered.
“Indeed,” the man said. “Before she died there was some discussion in the court about whether or not she would have made a fit Princess with some of the courtiers suggesting that the younger sister would be a better fit. When the elder sister found out, she was furious, as one might imagine, since she knew her sister had no strong desires to take the throne. So the elder sister told the court that replacing her would be a mistake, and that she would never allow it. Any discussion about the matter stopped after that. However, there are horrible rumors that the accident was staged.”
After a moment, the woman shook her head. “That is terrible, but I still don’t understand why she would have waited so long to get rid of the doll if it was such an insult,” she said.
The man shrugged. “Having the doll appear so suddenly frightened the Princess, to say the least,” he said. “But she has always felt guilty about taking her sister’s place. She thought that the doll’s appearance might have been some kind of message, though she couldn’t decide if that message was sinister or not. I suppose part of her might have seen her sister, instead of herself, in the face of that doll. It’s not my place to ask though. At least she’s finally decided to do something about it., and I think anyone close to her would be relieved.”
The woman shook her head sadly, smoothing the lace on my skirt. “How lonely you must be,” she said softly. I realized that she was talking to me. Then she reached under her cloak and retrieved a coin purse. She opened the purse and counted out five silvers, then placed them on the table.
“Here,” she said. “I will buy the doll, then.”
The man stepped back in surprise. “You will?” he asked in surprise. “After everything I just said, you still want it?”
The woman nodded. “Omen, threat, whatever it was meant to be, I don’t care. It’s hardly her fault so,” she scooped up the coins and offered them to the man again, “I will buy the doll,” she repeated.
The man glanced between me and the money in the woman’s hand, then he backed away from the table, raising his hands. “Please, just take it. I don’t want anything to do with it. Keep your silver and take it.”
Then he walked away, shaking his head. The woman watched him for a moment, then sighed and replaced the silver in her purse. Then she carefully lifted me from the table.
“You know,” she said softly as a maid brought a small crate to her, glancing warily between me and the woman, then she hurried away, glancing over her shoulder. “Where I’m from, a doll made in someone’s honor is a great gift.” She gently set me in the crate. “The people here may not understand, but I do. I will take you home with me.”
And she did. She took me to her home, and put me in a glass cabinet, where I can see the sunlight every day. When people see me, they smile. They do not think I am bad luck, or ugly. And now, I finally know what those dolls in the workshop spoke of. For I no longer feel lonely and sad. I feel warm, happy, knowing that I am not broken, as I once thought. I am, and I always was, something beautiful.