The Birthday Ball by Lois Lowry

immediately called into service once again. Now they took turns, going in groups of ten at a time, dashing to the creek to stir up the usually quiet waters.
    On another side of the castle grounds, beside the meadow where wildflowers attracted hundreds of bees that lived in nearby hives and provided the honey for the queen's breakfast, green polka-dotted tents provided shelter for Prince Percival and his entourage. It too had been a poor choice, for the rows of tents, when surrounded by the mirror bearers, blocked the beeline to the meadow, which confused the bees dreadfully and was beginning to make them so angry that a sinister and alarming bzzzzz was becoming quite audible.
    Finally, behind the counting house and west tower, a double-wide blue and white checked tent had been erected for the conjoint counts, and around it, similar but smaller blue and white tents for their many servers and carriers. But the large tent had already partially collapsed because of the wrestling match between Colin and Cuthbert that had ensued shortly after their arrival, when one wanted the bedpillows arranged to the east and the other to the west. Colin got Cuthbert in a hammerlock, but Cuthbert dug his fingernails into Colin's backside, and within moments they had destroyed the furniture and splintered one of the side tent poles.
    ***
    "Oh, miss, you do look so lovely and grown up." Tess the chambermaid had just finished pinning up the princess's hair. Ordinarily it fell in curls over her shoulders. But tonight, for the first time, she would wear it on top of her head, framed by a small tiara of pearls and aquamarines that just matched her eyes.
    "Well, Tess, I'm sixteen today." The princess sighed and leaned forward toward the looking glass to fasten earrings that matched the tiara. "Sixteen is grown up." She stared at herself and bit her lip. "Old enough to marry," she added in a small voice.
    "Blimey," the chambermaid said. For a moment they were both silent.
    "Oh, Tess!" The princess wiped away a small tear that had formed in the corner of her eye. "I did so love going to school! And the schoolmaster said he could help me to become a teacher!"
    "Why don't you then, miss? That would be just the thing for you! I been thinkin' about wantin' to become a teacher myself, miss, someday! I tried teachin' the pulley boy his letters, and he took to it right away!"
    "The Law of the Domain," the princess said sadly.

    "Law of the Domain? What ever's that, miss?"
    "It's—well, it's the law, Tess. It says the heiress—that's me—has to marry at sixteen and produce an heir, or another heiress."
    "An air? Well, that's foolish, miss, to think you can produce an air. The sky does that. Or the heavens, maybe. Sumpthin' up there, anyways." The chambermaid went to the window and looked out. "Just see! The leaves are movin' around. There's plenty of air."
    "No, an heir, Tess. It's not the same. It means a..."
    The princess fell silent.
    "A what, then?"
    "A baby," the princess said in a small voice.
    Tess looked outraged. "A baby! No way! Not now, miss! Not when you are sixteen and wantin' to be a teacher! Maybe later, miss! But not now!" The chambermaid paced angrily back and forth across the bedchamber.
    The princess stood up, and her embroidered petticoats swirled around her. "Pull yourself together, Tess. It makes me fretful when you pace," she said with resignation. "It is the Law of the Domain, and it is my sixteenth birthday. Help me with my gown."
    The chambermaid stamped her foot. "But blimey, miss, it's a bad law! Can't sumbody change it?"
    "Only the king. My father."
    Tess stood still. "A pa can be hard," she said. "Mine was. Threw me right out of the house, he did. Told me to not come back."
    "My father's not cruel like that. He's a good ruler, I think. We haven't gone to war in years because he doesn't believe in it." The princess gestured to the silvery-blue gown that was laid out carefully on her bed.
    "He never raises taxes," she went on, "and