It was springtime in Fydolf and almost Prince George's twenty-fifth birthday, a day which doubled as his wedding. The kingdom was agog with excitement and anticipation as to who this bride and future queen would be.
A decree had gone out two weeks ago that the first daughters of the noblemen of Fydolf were to report to the palace. None of the noble ladies were exempted.
Fifteen noble ladies lodged in the palace guest rooms. They would take some tests and whoever passed became Prince George's bride and future queen.
Dignitaries from neighbouring kingdoms graced this occasion with gifts that were neatly arranged in the throne room. One particular gift stood out of the many beautifully wrapped gifts.
Prince George sipped from his royal coffee mug and handed it to his servant who stood behind him. He examined this particular gift and asked his servant. "Who is this from?"
"Your grace, I believe it's from your uncle, King Litton. He arrived late last night."
Prince George smiled and knew something special must be inside the wrapping. Just then another servant rushed into the throne room. "Er, your grace. The noble ladies are ready and in your ballroom," Radi, the flustered servant reported.
The prince was not listening. He tore the wrappings to reveal a brand-new coffee machine. He noticed three buttons with three different coffee options: Classic, rich, and specialty on the machine. He grinned and couldn't wait to try them.
"Radi, take this coffee machine into the ballroom and set it up on a buffet table. All noble ladies must attempt to brew my favourite cup of coffee. Whoever gets it right will no doubt be my bride. Make haste now!"
In the ballroom….
The noble ladies gorgeously dressed waited for the prince's arrival. Some of them enjoyed the royal treatment and beauty of the palace accorded them and longed to make it permanent by any means possible.
Few of them were nervous and hoped to be the prince's bride for political gains to their fathers and families.
But these two ladies did not care for the outcome. Aria looked crestfallen and hoped she wouldn't be chosen because her heart was already bound to a farmer's son.
And Clarisse, an opinionated and spirited lady who was known to voice her dislike of some kingdom laws. Being her father's only daughter, he begged her to attend the palace or their family would be ruined for disobeying the king's order.
As soon as the servant set up the coffee machine in the ballroom, the prince walked in majestically. A few of the ladies rushed to stand by his side, giving him suggestive smiles.
"My noble ladies," Radi's deep voice drew their attention. "The prince has only one test for you. As you all know his grace loves coffee. He requests that you brew him a fine cup of coffee using this coffee machine. You have these three buttons as options. Good luck."
As the ladies lined up beside the table, they looked confused. Most of them had never brewed coffee in their lives and did not know how. Their maids or servants did it.
Prince George took the time to stroll around the ballroom with his guards, studying the noble ladies as they conducted themselves in this exercise.
"What am I? His maid or cook? Why must I brew him a cuppa?"
Prince George was shocked to hear those words. He turned to the source, it was Clarisse speaking to Aria. He drew closer to them and said gently, "My lady, it's not a must. As you've been told, it's just a test."
"Just a test, huh?" Clarisse retorted, her chin raised. "If I pass this test, what happens if you fail my test?" Aria gasped at Clarisse's temerity and pinched her arm.
Prince George was taken aback too. He frowned though he admired the delicate beauty of this noble lady and her confidence swayed him. His guards moved a step forward but he waved them back.
No one had ever challenged this Fydolf law before. Every king before him married the lady of his choice if she passed the tests. No one cared to know whether the prince was the bride's choice as well.
Just then, the king walked into the ballroom and everyone bowed. He commended the noble ladies and watched as some of them struggled with the coffee machine. The ladies so sure of themselves brewed a cup using the 'classic' button while some others used the 'rich' button.
Clarisse fumed but carefully brewed her coffee as though it was hers. She loved espresso and so used the specialty button to make a fine cup.
The cups were all numbered and arranged on a tray. The prince took a sip of each. He either frowned or winced with each sip. Except for one cup that tasted exactly the way he loved his coffee. He drank it all, checked the number and called it out. "Who made coffee number fourteen?" He asked.
The ballroom was thrown into silence. Aria nudged Clarisse.
"It's me -I'm number fourteen," Clarisse said quietly and all eyes turned on her. Her lips thinned in anxiety as the prince walked up to her and held her hands.
"My lady, I'm always up for a challenge. I'll do all I can to pass your test and be worthy of your love. If not soon, someday then," he declared solemnly to everyone's hearing.
The king clapped and declared that preparations for his son's wedding should begin immediately.
The End