The Crimson Crown

I awoke some time later to Moris gently pushing my pacifier back into place between my lips. I groaned, rolling over, feeling something soft in my grasp between my arms, and I held it tight, relishing in its touch. I drifted off again, deep into dreamland. 

Mommy held my hand, leading me through the hallways of the castle, taking slow, steady steps to allow me to keep up. I looked up at her, my eyes filled with the innocence of youth as she smiled down at me, “You’ll make an excellent Queen someday, sweet pea.” she said.

I giggled, leaning against her leg as we walked, “Really? You think so?” I asked curiously.

“I know so.” she said warmly, “You have a kind heart, a loving soul; I see how you play with the other kids in the nursery,” Mommy said, “Even those who are sick or weak of mind.”

“It’s not their fault they aren’t as smart as the other kids,” I exclaim, “It’s not fair they are treated so poorly just because they are stupid.”

“They aren’t stupid; they are just as smart as the other kids,” Mommy explained, “They just take a little while longer to get to the same conclusion.”

I thought on that for a moment and nodded, “Yeah, you are right, they usually do. But other people treat them badly, and I don’t like it.”

“Hence why you will make a good queen,” Mommy chuckled, “You care for them all, regardless of what others think of them; it’s a quality I try to portray myself. Whether people are at the top of their class or the bottom, whether they are rich or poor, they are still your people, and you should care for them equally.”

“Everyone deserves to be treated equally!” I said with a smile, getting to the point Mommy was trying to make.

“Well, not exactly,” Mommy said slowly, “There’s a difference between equality and equity.”

I looked up, giving her a puzzled look, “What do you mean? Shouldn’t you treat everyone the same? You should be as nice to the beggar as you are to the nobleman.”

“To a degree, yes.” Mommy chuckled, “Every person deserves love and compassion, but you know how you help those kids? Help the caregivers take care of them?”

I nodded, “They need extra help to keep up with the rest of the class.”

Mommy nodded, “They do; just because they are a bit behind on potty training and aren’t as quick to come to the same conclusion as the rest of their peers doesn’t mean they aren’t any less of a person for it. But you and the caregivers help give them a leg up and keep them moving with the rest of the class, right? They still need diapers, but that allows them to go play with the others; you may need to explain a topic in a different way to them or give them a little extra time coloring to complete their artwork, for example.”

I scrunched up my face, looking confused, “What does that have to do with equal… Equali… Equal-”

“Equality and equity,” Mommy finished my sentence with a smile. “Well, equality would mean those kids are treated the same as everyone else.”

“But they’d fall behind in class!” I exclaimed.

“Exactly, but what you practice is equity; you help them keep up with everyone else by giving them a little extra attention.” Mommy explained, “Being a Queen is similar; the nobleman doesn’t need as much help as the beggar does.”

My eyes began to glaze over as I tried to put the pieces together to understand Mommy’s explanation. She smiled warmly, “The beggars are like those kids you help; they need a little something extra to keep up, but the noblemen are like the kids in your class that are earning the top grades; you don’t need to help them hardly at all. You give them a direction and let them go.”

I nodded slowly, “But those smart kids can get into a lot of trouble, and they don’t respond to punishments like the others. Sometimes, they need to be spanked to keep in line.”

“But you don’t.” Mommy said as I shook my head no, “You need timeouts, time to contemplate and think about what you’ve done. But they do. The noblemen are sort of like that too; they begin to think too highly of themselves and start acting out against the interest of the crown.”

“So you spank them?” I asked, looking up at Mommy.

Mommy laughed, a smile forming on her lips, “Oh storms, I wish I could. Unfortunately, I don’t think they would respond to spanking as well as the kids in your nursery class.” she said, shaking her head, “Noble men need something special to keep in line, you know how you get put in timeout when you are naughty?”

I nodded sheepishly. “Well, that’s sort of like what prison is. The average person who misbehaves gets sent to prison, sort of like a grown-up timeout. But, in your class, do those smart kids take well to timeout? Does it actually correct their behavior?”

I shook my head. “No, it doesn’t,” Mommy continued, “In your case, they are spanked, and do you know why that works?”

I shook my head again. “Because it embarrasses them,” Mommy said with a twinkle in her eye.

“It embarrasses them?” I asked, glancing up at her.

“It does,” Mommy explained, “Think about it: how would you feel if your teacher pulled you over her lap, pulled your skirts up, and spanked you in front of the whole class?”

“It’d really hurt!” I exclaimed, “I don’t like spankings.”

“I know you don’t, sweet pea, but what else would you feel? You are in the middle of the nursery, surrounded by your peers, the peers you help every day, the people who see you all the time.” Mommy asked, probing.

I thought about it, picturing myself being pulled over their laps, my cotton trainers pulled down and spanked before everyone. I gasped, blushing, “That would be so humiliating!”

“That’s exactly right; it’s why it works with those students; it reinforces who’s in charge. Those naughty kids think they are above the rules of the nursery, but being spanked like that shows the entire class and themselves that they aren’t.” Mommy explained.

I scratched my head, still confused, “But how does that relate to Nobel men?” I asked, “You said you can’t spank them, so how do you embarrass them?”

“You are a clever girl,” Mommy chuckled, “just like those students, humility will help put those Nobel men in their places. When a kid gets spanked, what does it do to their reputation?”

“All the kids laugh at them, and they feel like outcasts for a while because everyone remembers them being spanked,” I said with a grin, remembering the last time a student was punished like that.

“Exactly.” Mommy said, grinning herself, “So, the way to control a Nobel is to ruin their reputation. Just like the students, it takes time for them to rebuild their reputation, and they are likely going to be far more careful the next time; no one wants to be spanked twice.” 

I shook my head no, my hand fluttering to my bum as if Mommy were threatening me. “All you have to do is ruin a person's reputation to control them?” I asked curiously.

“More or less, sometimes it’s just the threat of being ruined that keeps people in line. When a person is trying to show you how big and strong they are, as a Queen, it’s your job to remind them of their place. Often, it only takes you reminding them how fragile their reputation truly is and how easily you can ruin it for them to step back into place.” Mommy said. 

I thought about what she said for a moment, “But if you can’t spank them, how do you do that?” I asked, “How do you ruin their reputation? Or threaten to do so?”

Mommy smiled, leaning down and hoisting me into her arms, her fingers tickling my tummy and making me giggle, “That, my Princess, is the art of being a Queen. I will teach you everything I know; you will be a fabulous Queen someday.”

I felt myself being rolled onto my back, and I hugged Mommy tightly, my dreams mingling with reality as I slowly came awake. I wasn’t hugging my mother; I was far from the child I had been that day. I was hugging something, however, and someone was pulling my blankets back and feeling my diaper.

I opened groggy eyes to see Morris there beside my bed, her hands inspecting my diaper, which, if my aching bladder were anything to go by, was bone dry. “You aren’t going to let me use the chamber pot, are you?” I asked groggily, the pacifier falling from my lips; I hadn’t realized it was there.

Morris turned to me, smiling, “Good morning, your grace, and no, your training is strict, a chamber pot will not be available to you. If you need to relieve yourself, I can change you now.”

I nodded; it was the only motivation I needed to relax and let my bladder soak into the thirsty padding between my legs. I had to admit as much as I hated wearing diapers, being able to relieve myself without needing to leave the warm confines of bed was a delightful benefit. I figured if I had to wear and use these storming things, I might as well look to the bright side. 

I hadn’t realized Morris’s hand was still upon my diaper until it shifted, her palm pressed firmly against my rapidly swelling diaper. She smiled, “Very good girl, you are doing so well; at this rate, you’ll be able to go while you sleep; you will not have to wake up to go.” Morris said, praising me.

I blushed deeply, “I’m not a baby, Morris.” I snapped as the woman set about changing me now that I had gone potty.

“Of course not,” Morris said, glancing at me, her eyes trailing down my body, lingering on the pacifier lying beside me, and then whatever was clutched in my arms, and finally, the soggy diaper she was changing.

I blushed, groaning, letting my eyes roll back. What was it that I was holding anyway? I lifted the item to find it a soft, fuzzy teddy bear with a big red bow fixed around its neck. I studied it, my eyebrow raised before glancing at Morris. She gave me a soft smile, running wet wipes across my skin, “It was a gift from the Queen, a hand-me-down of sorts; it helped her through many tough times.”

“A teddy bear? Like, what children play with or sleep with?” I asked, curious.

Morris nodded, “Why not? They are soft, cute, and cuddly. He will always be there for you, regardless of the time of day or where you are. He doesn’t whine or complain; he loves to be held and is great company.”

“Morris,” I said slowly, “It’s a stuffed bear, not a person.” 

Morris chuckled, shrugging, “Regardless, keep him around; maybe you’ll come to enjoy him; what do you think his name should be?”

I leveled an unamused star at Morris, who didn’t wilt or even falter as she continued to change me, “Storms, it’s a children's toy; it doesn’t need a name.”

“Ohh! Stormy! I like it.” Morris said, grinning at me, a twinkle in her eye as I rolled my own.

I set the stuffed bear beside me on the bed, “I do not need it.”

“You don’t need a lot of things, your grace. But Stormy, like many of the other items you are growing accustomed to, is going to be a regular part of your life going forward, especially when you ascend to being a Queen.” Morris said, pulling my fresh diaper up between my legs and pinning it in place.

I rolled my eyes, sighing.

Morris stood, gathering something, “Your grace,” she said with a sigh, “I realize this is a lot for you, and as your attendant, I intend to make your transition as easy as possible. That being said, it would help dramatically if you aren’t fighting me every step of the way; I am only doing what has been prescribed for you.”

I found myself blushing as Morris came back, holding a fresh baby bottle. “It would help me if you all didn’t treat me like a storming baby,” I said, crossing my arms.

Morris leveled her gaze at me, and I felt myself shrinking back, feeling suddenly ashamed of my outburst. “I realize you think that, your grace.” Morris said slowly, “But you aren’t from this kingdom; you haven’t been a part of this family or its lineage for long, and I realize its customs and traditions are odd to you; however, as their soon-to-be Queen, it imperative you maintain decorum and do what is expected of you.” she said, plopping the teddy bear back in my lap as she took a seat, lifting me enough to settle me into her lap, pressing the bottle to my lips.

“At the end of the day, your grace,” Morris said with a sigh, “I am but an attendant to you; I am a servant to the throne. But part of my responsibilities is to maintain the status quo, and as your attendant, I have been personally tasked with ensuring there is a Queen fit to rule should our existing Queen pass. Unlike you, I am disposable; if I am declared unfit for this job, they will find someone else, your grace. If I fail, they will find someone else who can do the job better, so please, work with me.”

I felt utterly ashamed of myself as I accepted the bottle, nursing it and hugging my new stuffed friend. Whatever was in this bottle was back to what I had been expecting, the oddity of last night's bottle fading from my mind as I nursed. Morris was right; I was acting like a spoiled brat, and my dream from last night came flashing through my mind, making me squirm. I didn’t want to be spanked or put in time out, not that I thought Morris would do either.

Coming to this kingdom had been a substantial change for me, a completely new culture and way of thinking, new beliefs, and new laws and regulations. The treatment of the Queen and Princess had been the cherry on top of it all, leaving me floundering in a world I wasn’t used to nor knew how to carry myself in. As much as I didn’t agree with their customs, as much as I hated the treatment, Morris was right: I was being groomed for a position I didn’t fully understand. I knew what made a Queen a Queen back home, but here, the rules were different, and I felt flustered as I struggled to come to terms with not knowing.

It had been that change, that shift in my understanding of the ways of things, that had been the most challenging part to get over. To me, I was being treated like a baby. I was dressed in diapers, in cute, childish clothing, nursing pacifiers and bottles, and even cuddling a stuffed bear; to them, however, it was indicative of a Queen. Morris had been kind to me. I saw her as one of the many people who were forcing this life upon me, but really, she was only a single messenger; no, not a messenger, a guide. She was guiding me toward what a Queen was supposed to be here in this kingdom, and here I was, throwing a tantrum. I may have deserved a spanking and a time-out.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled around the nipple of the bottle, embarrassed and avoiding her eyes. 

Morris seemed to relax. She smiled, wiping a few strands of stray hair from my eyes. “It’s okay, your grace, I understand. I’ve heard of how Queens and Princesses are treated in your home kingdom, I can understand that this is a big change for you. Please realize that as your attendants, we do not act with malice; we aren’t doing this because we enjoy it; we do it because it is what’s right, what must be done. We are going to be your harshest critics and make sure you follow the rules down to the fine print, because we must.

“Dorian is a fantastic husband, a fantastic prince, and a wonderful person, but he has the added right of being regal; he can’t be disposed of as easily as some silly airheaded attendants. He has leniency we do not get, and your carelessness, your rejection of our treatment, and your blatant disrespect for the rules reflect on us more than it does you. So, please, your grace, let us do our jobs so you can do yours.” Morris said with a smile.

I nodded sheepishly, still deeply embarrassed, “I’ll try.” I mumbled around the bottle’s nipple.

Morris nodded, “That’s all we can ask for; thank you, your grace. You will make a fantastic Queen.”