"Now they knew that she was a real princess because she had felt the pea right through the twenty mattresses and the twenty eider-down beds.

Nobody but a real princess could be as sensitive as that.

So the prince took her for his wife, for now he knew that he had a real princess; and the pea was put in the museum, where it may still be seen, if no one has stolen it.

There, that is a true story."

Hans Christian Andersen

He had been the first to arrive at the dining room that evening, and he saw the pinecone in the governess chair.

The children!

Scowling, he took the offending object in his hands, with every intention of putting it inside his pocket, then lecture the children about it after dinner, when a wave of memories washed over him.

Lately, whenever they decided to play a new trick on a governess, it wasn´t unusual that they would do something that reminded him of their mother. Little things, but the connection was always there. It was clever, almost to the point of being wicked.

And he knew very well who was the mastermind.

Louisa. Among all the seven children, his daughter was the one who knew how to hit him where it hurt the most.

The pinecone story was part of the von Trapp family chronicles, and in the good old days, Agathe loved to share it with their children. Particularly Louisa, who would ask her mother to repeat it night after night, because of its resemblance the princess and the pea fairy tale. Only that it was more interesting, in their opinion.

It all began as a joke between the Captain and his grandmother, when Georg was trying to make up his mind about proposing to Agathe. He never doubted he loved her, but he also knew his role in life well, and what was expected of him. Marrying purely out of love was a luxury the von Trapp´s had not been able to afford for generations. Then his grandmother, whom he always knew to be a hopeless romantic, mentioned the fairy tale.

"Are you suggesting a pea under her mattress?" Georg asked irritably.

"Heavens, no! Naturally you need something more… obvious".

"Such as?"

"Don´t sneer like that, Georg! I am serious. Just put a… a pinecone in her chair during a formal dinner party and watch her carefully as she deals with the situation. That should tell you everything you need to know".

"Grandmama, don´t you think I am too old to believe in fairy tales?"

"As I am too old not to believe them. You would be surprised, trust me. There is more to these children´s stories than you think. You´ll see," the old woman winked.

Georg thought his grandmother´s idea was too ludicrous, too… nonsensical to be taken seriously. But then, when the time came, he found himself in the Vienna woods in the middle of the night, hunting for the thorniest, nastiest pinecone he could find.

The next evening, he escorted Miss Agathe Whitehead to the table. How would she behave in a room full of aristocrats, dignitaries, diplomats, not to mention a couple of crowned heads? He held his breath.

And then…

Except for a slightly raised eyebrow, she did not move a muscle. Her eyes widened a bit in surprise, but that might have been only his imagination. Then she turned to him and gave him her brightest, most perfect smile. Agathe reacted to his prank like the lady he knew her to be.

This is ridiculous, he thought. The prank only told him what he already knew, it changed nothing. The decision had already been made weeks before, he only had not been brave enough to go through with it. With his mind firmly set, he proposed to her that same evening, knowing it was the right thing to do. The only thing to do. He had never believed the silly pinecone incident had nothing to do with his decision to marry, but when he told his wife the story during their honeymoon, she thought it was so romantic that she chose to believe it had…

It was only when they were celebrating their 10th wedding anniversary that Agathe confessed that she had cheated. She had seen the pinecone, had seen him putting it there. When she sat down, she brushed it aside.

"The look in your face was as priceless then as it is now," she finished laughing. "Cheer up, darling. That is the one secret I´ve managed to keep from you all my life. My only victory against that cunning mind of yours!"

They laughed about it. And the pinecone tale was forgotten for a very long time.

Until that evening, when the 12th in the line of governess first came to the house. Fraülein Maria, who looked nothing like a governess, who looked even less like a nun in training, but very much like a tomboy. A troublemaker. He had met her for less than ten minutes earlier that day, and already listed more reasons why he should not keep her as a governess to his children that he cared to number. Outspoken, loud, no respect for authority, no self discipline whatsoever, nosy, appalling taste in clothes (although he had to admit that might not have been her fault)… He cringed when he thought about what kind of influence such a… such a wisp of a girl would have over his children.

Only time would tell. In any case, he would have a serious talk with the Reverend Mother about the so-called postulant she had thought could be made into a governess when he returned from Vienna. What had the woman been thinking? Didn´t she know him and his family well enough to send such a girl to his home?

Captain von Trapp stared at the pinecone in his hands for a moment. He had been holding it too tight and it bit into his palms. Thinking about the new governess had annoyed him inexplicably. Then he shrugged. It should not concern him so much. All he had to do was fire, whenever he felt like it. This evening, if he needed to. He did not have to be burdened with such a troublesome employee for no longer than it was necessary. He never had before, and never would.

With a mischievous inner smile, he returned the pinecone to the same spot where his daughter had carefully placed it a few minutes before.

Who knows? It might help him to find a suitable governess…