Princess without a Palace: A King Thrushbeard Fairy Tale by Kristen Niedfeldt Page A

savings jar from the
mantle.
    “Since I won’t be paid until the end of
the month, you have the honor of being the first official contributor to our
collection,” he declared as he ceremoniously held out the jar before her.
    Liesel actually wished she hadn’t sold
anything so she could have avoided the unwanted attention. She felt Maria’s
eyes upon her as she grudgingly withdrew her three small coins and plopped them
into the jar. The faint tinkle of the small coins echoed in the hollow space.
    “Hmmm,” she heard Maria muse. “At that
rate, I’m not sure I’ll live to see the wedding.”
    “This was only Liesel’s first day,”
Roderick contended on Liesel’s behalf. “Patience. Just wait until she’s had
more practice.”
    “I’ll do my best,” Maria remarked drily.
She then excused herself to tend to the livestock outside.
    Roderick hauled in several of the
different pottery items and arranged them on the kitchen table. He then waved
for Liesel to join him.
    He was all seriousness as he began his
lecture. “The first and most important rule of any business endeavor is not to
lose money. You’re not going to the marketplace to give things away. You’re
there to earn a profit.”
    “An easy task if you know how much was
spent on the pottery,” Liesel argued.
    “Exactly. And I accept full
responsibility for failing to enlighten you on that subject. Tonight I’ll make
a list of the minimum prices that you can afford to sell each of the items. But
for now, based on my experience in the market and some rough calculations, I estimate
that the cups should sell for no less than five copper pieces, vases should
sell for about fifteen, and the jugs, with their fine, sturdy handles should
sell for at least twenty pieces.”
    “Thank you.”
    “But the second rule is to set your starting
prices high. If you only ask the minimum, then that is all you’ll receive. If
your customers accept your first price, then you need to aim higher the next
time.”
    Liesel nodded.
    “And the last rule,” he continued with a
warning. “You have to be willing to let the customer walk away. There’s no
reason to give anything away and if they want it, they’ll spend what they need
to get it.”
    He let the rules sink in before he
asked, “So are you ready to practice?”
    Liesel couldn’t think of anything she’d
rather do less after already spending a full day in the marketplace.
    But he wouldn’t let her refuse. “You’ll
remember more if you practice. I’ll be the merchant first. Come … pretend to be
interested in one of these pieces.”
    Liesel felt ridiculous participating in
his fictitious market, but didn’t see how she could avoid it. She reluctantly
approached and picked up the closest item: a stout and sturdy vase.
    “I see the vase has caught your eye,”
Roderick stated in his best merchant’s voice.
    Liesel looked at him like he had lost
his mind, but he persisted. “And you’re not alone. All my other vases have been
purchased today, and this is the last one left.”
    “So this is the vase that no one else
wanted?” she contested.
    “No, this one is just as fine as the
other vases,” he countered with a smile. “You are just fortunate that the other
customers couldn’t afford to buy this one too.”
    “Hmmm,” Liesel answered, looking it
over. Warming up to the exercise, she added, “It is attractive, in its own way,
I suppose.”
    Liesel pretended to appraise it more
thoroughly and then asked, “How much do you want for it?”
    “Forty copper pieces.”
    “For this old thing?” she exclaimed.
“I’ll offer you fifteen.”
    “I’d sooner part with my favorite
horse!”
    She smiled. “You only have one horse.”
    “Which is why he is my favorite,” he returned
with a wink. “No, I cannot possibly sell this vase for less than thirty.”
    Liesel put a hand on her hip and coolly
countered, “Twenty. It’s my final offer.”
    Roderick leaned over the table and
answered with