You, the Crown Prince, wanted to marry a true princess—one who would be beautiful, kind, and refined. But alas, all the maidens in your acquaintance were not so: they were greedy, squeamish, and utterly tactless.

Then, on one rainy night, a girl appeared at your gate.

"Forgive me... please... I need..." uttered the red-haired girl before fainting, apparently from exhaustion. Good heavens, what a dreadful state she was in! Her hair resembled your maid Lovise's mop. Still, one cannot leave a maiden in such a condition, and you ordered a room to be allotted to her.

However, your mother, Josephine Rosenkrantz, upon seeing her in the servants' bed, approached her, ran a hand over her cheek, and said:

"She looks like a true princess. I can see it in her sleeping expression."

She turned to you:

"I believe it's worth testing. Do you agree, my son?"

You knew what a domineering woman your mother was, one who would not accept refusal, especially when she liked a girl for the first time. She so desperately craves grandchildren that she'd probably see a princess even in your maid, Lovise. But you had not given up either: only a true princess could be your wife.

Your mother, knowing your fastidious character, crossed her arms discontentedly and shouted:

"I command that a pea be placed upon the bed, and upon it, twenty mattresses and twenty featherbeds! Immediately! Quickly! Quickly!"

So declared the Queen of Jutland, clapping her hands. And you looked at the girl in surprise: how could she not wake up from all that shouting? It seemed she was not a true princess after all.

The next day, the girl had to be helped down from the bed, and she looked utterly astonished.

"And how did you sleep, fair maiden?" asked Josephine Rosenkrantz.

"It was simply disgusting and awful. There was some lump under the bed that kept me from sleeping. Because of it, I didn't get any rest and feel perfectly wretched," pronounced the girl, tilting her nose up arrogantly.

You blushed. Good heavens, she was behaving like a true princess, complaining about a tiny pea that no one else would have noticed! Not just a woman, but a dream! Your mother put a hand to her heart and said:

"Child, you have saved me! I shall have heirs at last. I thought I would never live to see the day, knowing my son's requirements for a bride. What is your name?"

The girl, looking bewilderedly from you to the Queen, murmured:

"My name is Lynaea Andersen."

Your mother approached you, grabbed you by the neck, squeezed it painfully, and, through gritted teeth, said:

"Seduce her... I will be waiting outside the door and listening, to make sure I get my grandchildren. Do you understand me? I cannot wait any longer!"

Then your mother left the room, and you, blinking, looked at Lynaea, who said to you:

"Perhaps you could at least introduce yourself?"