A Bed Time Fairy Tale

I told someone special that I would tell her a bed time story. Here it is. Silly, simple and hopefully with a good heart.

          Once or maybe twice upon a time, a long, long time ago, in a land whose name I can’t recall there lived a beautiful princess. Now this princess, whose name escapes me as well, lived in spectacular castle, high atop a hill over looking the roaring, restless sea.

          This castle with its three towers, two gates and massive moat had been in her family for many, many years. Her father, the King, a very good man and honest ruler had gone to rest several years earlier and her mother, still beautiful though advanced in years had lain on the King’s tomb refusing to eat or sleep until she joined her husband in rest. This left the princess alone, since she had no brothers or sisters to call her own, just a distant cousin or two who seldom came to visit. She did however have two faithful dogs, which stood constant watch over her both day and night and were never far away even when she rode her horse around the grounds.

          The Princess was never bored for she read a book a week from the castle’s fantastic library. Her father, a believer that knowledge was the way to true wisdom, being a wise man himself, had made a standing order that any book or poem written in the land would be paid for in full and a copy sent to the castle to be kept for the people so that the wisdom of the land would never be lost. So the King and now his daughter found that the library must be expanded periodically to accommodate the books and poems and songs that flowed from her land.

          The Princess also wrote a great deal. Poems and stories and songs of all kinds flowed from her fingers. Often she would stay up late into the night, her bed chamber a blaze with candles, writing, composing and singing new songs to herself, her dogs and an occasional servant her only audience. Songs of love, lost and found so often filled the room. Although she did not seem to put words to it, The Princess felt lonely. A longing that she was not sure exactly how to fill. The problem was she didn’t know where to find it.

          Now word got around the land, as word so often does, that The Princess was alone in her castle and thinking of marriage. This caused quite a stir, since the kingdom was a wealthy one and any man who could win the hand of the Princess would gain a share of the riches that came with such a union.

          So from far and wide men came to seek her hand in marriage, for not only was she a wonder of supreme intellect, but one of the fairest women who had ever walked the land. Her long silken hair was combed every day to the finest sheen. She would dress in the finest clothing made of silk and satin and tie her hair with spun gold and silver. Her lithe form was a beauty to behold by any standard and she was worshiped by both men and women.

          So on the first day of the week, she sat in her father’s huge mahogany chair by the east facing window, lost in a book as was her custom, when her head of the household knocked.

          “Come in.”

The elderly man, dressed in fine green shirt and a red doublet, entered, giving a short bow as he did.

          “My Lady.”

          “Yes, Horace?”

          “There is a – a line. Look.” He pointed out the window.

The Princess took her gaze from her book and looked to the east. A caravan of carriages, each more ornate then the last, nearly as far as the eye could see stretched to the horizon.

          “They are ---“ The Princess asked.

          “Suitors, my Lady. Men coming for your hand.”

          “Oh my.” She said, “All this fuss over me?”

          “My Lady, if I may say so---“  Horace trailed off.

          “You may.” She smiled, patting one of her dogs on his massive head.

“You are the fairest in the land. Any man who captures your heart would be fortunate indeed.”

“My dear friend, you are too kind.”

“Not at all, My Lady. You know that I always tell you the truth.”

“Yes. I do.”

“My Lady, your wishes?” Horace asked.

“Horace, I value your advice. May I have it?”

“My Lady, the question must be – forgive me for saying so. Do you want to marry someone? Are you lonely, Your Highness?”

The Princess paused. Her eyes flicked down to her book, her dogs and a portrait of her father and mother on the wall. They smiled at her and each other. So in love, she thought.

In a whisper, barely heard above the salted ocean breeze, she said, “I am.”

 

The Princess sat in her receiving room with her dogs on each side of a chair that belonged to her father as well. Two servants opened the massive oak doors and let the line of men in. The Princess steadied her resolve and silently prayed that this day might bring someone with whom she could be happy.

The first lavishly dressed man removed his feathered hat and in a flourish bow that seemed to last for a minute he began to sing. Her dogs rose up and both of them raised their hackles. She leaned down and hushed them. Slowly they drifted back down on their haunches and listened because they had to as well.

 

The day drug on and on with suitor after suitor who came and went. Some sang, some told stories of their prowess as warriors. Sonnets were composed praising her beauty and the love that the men had for her. The Princess did find it very odd that to a man each and every man said that they loved her. How can they love me and we have just met? She thought. Against her better judgment, the Princess was bored and had to suppress a yawn.

Horace looked down the long road across the drawbridge and saw no more carriages in the distance. With that he relaxed, maybe the worst was over. But then as he moved to have the doors closed, a lone man carrying a long walking staff appeared in the door. He was a bit taller then most of the ones who had appeared that day, but dressed in no way as fancy. He wore sturdy breeches, lightly covered in dust, well worn, high legged boots tied with leather. His shirt was an off white ruffled cloth. He wore a doublet made of worn leather, slightly adorned with small ribbons. His wardrobe was finished with a long, dusty green cloak that did look slept in. On his head was a well worn cap, tilted to one side. Around his waist was tied a tankard and various other items for living on the road.

“You are here for the My Lady’s hand?” Horace asked.

“I have come to see her. I have heard she is a woman of uncommon beauty, grace and charm. And a great wit as well. Or so it is said.”

“She is that and much more.”

“To answer your question more fully, I don’t know if I am here for that. Her hand.”

“What a odd thing to say.”

“Why?”

“Everyone else is here to seek her hand in marriage.”

The Princess stood up at this point and came forward. The dogs patted after her, eyeing this man with caution.

“And you are different?” She asked.

“I suppose I am your Highness.”

Their eyes met for a second. The man did not look away. The Princess found this odd. A man of lower stature would have glanced down and not met her eyes. It was considered rude to look the gentry directly in the face in such a manner. But there was a strength, a calm confidence in his eyes. She found this very appealing.

“Why is that? Why are you so different?”

The man smiled, bowing his head slightly. “I don’t know you, Your Highness.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

“You do not profess your undying love?”

“No, Your Majesty, I don’t.”

“--- and that matters to you, sir?”

“It does. It should matter to you as well.”

“I suppose.”

“I apologize, Your Majesty, I spoke out of turn.” The man bowed again.

“Not at all, I appreciate honesty.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“So sir, how shall we proceed?”

“I---as I said I don’t know you, Your Majesty. None of these men who have come here today do.”

“And so---“

“I would like to. Get to know you, that is, Your Majesty.”

“And?”

“It’s a start, Your Majesty. It would be a start.”

In spite of herself and the length of the day, The Princess smiled. She gestured, motioning the man into the castle and they began to talk. For the first time in a long while, the Princess felt at ease. And her heart fluttered with that long lost feeling of hope, a hope of again feeling the joy of love, a feeling that she hadn’t experienced since her parents were alive.

 

          Once or maybe twice upon a time, a long, long time ago, in a land whose name I can’t recall there lived a beautiful princess. Now this princess, whose name escapes me as well, lived in spectacular castle, high atop a hill over looking the roaring, restless sea. And she loved a man, a common man, who came into her heart and she into his. For that is the way of things. In a land happily ever after.

 

         

Reviews

[emmajoy]

Ohhhhhhhhh I just love fairy stories and this is absolutely beautiful.. it's a happy ever after with a real ending!

The actual writing part, the technical side of this is fine, your work always is.. 'love the descirptions of princess and suitors and Horace and .. and .. and.. all finely put..

but most of all there's a reality, a comforting reality, a moral if you like .. a hope for things to come, a dream come true.

Thank you.

[Aekmy]

Awwe how cute. :]

[Ice Queen of the Vampir..]

This is a wonderful story and I really love it. You did a fantastic job writing this. Awesome write!!!

Heather