Princess Polka Dot's Arc

Chapter 3 of 4

One mayor had said yes. The other would not even open her letters. Princess Polka Dot sent two notes to the second mayor's hall. Both came back sealed, the wax unbroken. He would not read a single word from the castle. She could not request a meeting if he refused to read the request. So she decided to stop writing and go find him herself. She learned he visited a flower stall at the edge of his village each morning. The stall stood bright with paper blossoms and layered dots. She waited there before dawn. When the second mayor arrived, she knew him at once. He was the man who sent her letters back unopened, now in person—a heavy man in his fifties, his suit buttons straining, his jacket too tight across his shoulders. This was Mayor Harold. He reached for a yellow paper flower, then saw her and froze. "You," he said. "The meddling princess. I burned your letters. Save your breath." "I didn't bring a letter," she said. "I brought a question. Did you ever hear the real end of the float story?" "I know the story." He set the flower down hard. "His village copied ours. Twenty years. Done." "No one copied anyone." She stepped closer. "I found the floats in my castle. Each shape is half yellow, half pink. Your village and his built them side by side. The other mayor has already agreed to come and look." Harold's jaw tightened at the mention of the other mayor. "He agreed? Then I won't. I won't stand in a room beside that man." Princess Polka Dot had expected that. She lifted a small box from under her arm. It was covered in colored dots, with cut-paper edges. She turned the little crank. A thin, cheerful tune drifted out over the flower stall. "This played at the old parade," she said. "Both villages danced to it. Your father, his father. Everyone." Harold went still. His hand hovered over the box. "My mother hummed this," he said quietly. "I thought the tune was lost." "It isn't lost. Only the trust is." She held the box out. "Keep it. Come see the floats. Stand where you like. You don't have to speak to him." He took the box. His thick fingers closed around it. For a long moment he said nothing. The tune wound down and stopped. "One hour," he said at last. "I'll look. Nothing more." Princess Polka Dot nodded, steady on the outside. Inside, her heart raced. She had done it. Both mayors would come to the castle. Then Harold's face hardened again. "But understand me. If I walk into that room and see his face, and this proof of yours is thin, I'll call it a trick. I'll turn both villages against you and your festival for good." Two mayors would stand in one room now. She had one chance to make the floats speak louder than twenty years of blame.