The crown smelt damp and musty. It took all of her self-control to quench the approaching sneezes, which threatened to destroy her oh-so-very ladylike persona.
A royal must remain dignified at all times, the queen regent reminded her that very morning. You must not give the people any illusion that there is a living, breathing human being under that emotionless smile.
Which was sad, but very much a true fact. When she donned her crown, she must become no one. Nothing. A mere puppet to serve the will of her people. The ultimate self-sacrifice.
This thought disheartened her deeply, as she waved to the masses crowding the cobbled streets. Her life, she realised, would never more be private. The butcher from down the road would know her plans to dine with the Duke of Hamberbury; the tailors, whom she absolutely detested, would be informed whenever she needed a new gown for a state ball; even the young children roaming the streets would be dragged out onto the village square, to see the new queen addressing her people, when in fact said queen would much rather stay at home and be left alone entirely.
But luckily, she was able to control her quivering lips and watering eyes, just as well as she was able to restrain her sneezing.
The queen’s husband, however, took no attempt to control his emotions. Although this was notably more acceptable, as his emotions were those of happiness and pride. He motioned for applause and even cheered for himself. His eyes glinted as he first comprehended the degree of power he had now been granted.
All this power and wealth, just for saving some small, timid girl from a tower.
Her mother was not happy when she discovered the brave knight who had saved her daughter from her years of confinement.
That boy is a troublemaker, she whispered to her untainted daughter, as she brushed her brunette locks. Watch out for him, my dear. For I fear, when he has used you to get to his means of power, he will toss you away like a bloodstained rag.
But the law was law. Whoever shalt rescue mine granddaughter from the dragons tower, her grandfather decreed, shall win the hand of said virginal maiden.
And so she was sold off, with as little as a seconds glance.
As the King’s Council began their endless tirade concerning a new era for their country, the queen’s heart fell heavy as she remembered with dread what tonight would bring, in her new husbands bed.
The consummation would be the worst part, she thought, and then, it will be over.
Everything would be better come the morning.
This is just a short story, but based off of the idea I’m currently working on for my university dissertation: A story about a princess saved from a tower, whos prince doesn’t turn out to be quite so princely as once might originally think…
They wrote the song about a singer getting too big for his breeches, but I decided to take their fairy tale imagery literally, and this is the idea I came up with! 🙂
I’d certainly like to keep updating my blog with information regarding my dissertation, but I’ll probably have to limit it to character sketches and things, at least until the year is over and everything has been marked etc. I don’t want to risk getting in trouble or something!
Until this develops more into its own project, I will probably bundle this with my collection of warped fairy tales: For I Am No Lover of Lilies, which are definitely worth a look if you like your favorite childhood stories becoming terrifying nightmares!
But I’ve spent a lot of time developing this idea, so I hope you like it! 🙂