Now, where was I? Oh, here, that’s right. The princess had just found out that her parents were set to marry her off to the son of the neighboring king. And she had a complete hissy fit. Right. So, let us continue, shall we?
She’d stomped. She’d thrown her brush, her comb, and her box of hairpins. She had come close to hurtling the large tome in her hand, but stopped herself. Never, even in her darkest hour, would she harm a book! Anger mostly spent, she flopped onto the overstuffed oval of her vanity chair.
She knew her parents would not relent, that she would find herself wed, will-she, nay-she, to that toad. She’d heard about him, Prince Leo. He’d fuck anything. Maybe even goats. She doubted that there was a female in his entire kingdom that hadn’t been penetrated by the royal cock.
After cleaning up the results of her tantrum ~she was a neat lass, to be sure, and wouldn’t make her elderly nurse tidy the mess ~ she sat, disconsolate, looking out the window. She knew she would relent. But…didn’t everyone want to marry because of love? Her parents had, or so their favorite story of their first meeting went. They’d been at a grand ball, and her father had taken one look at her mother and then and there had fallen head over heels in love for her. He said it was as if the fates had paired them. Mother did say that he had fallen in love with her cleavage first, that he’d fallen madly in lust with her, which always made her father laugh, though he’d never yet admitted to those baser needs. Fate had worked for them. But for her? She doubted it. Of course, it was possible. Anything was possible. She knew that her parents loved her, and would look out for her needs as well as the kingdom’s. But still….the idea of being shipped off like some sort of…chattel. She shuddered.
Well, then, enough of that sort of morose whining. Now, as for the Prince, you must be wondering what is going on with him? Yes, let us see what he is about, shall we?
As for the Prince…
(yes, I did already say that. However, this is a fairy tale, after all, and I shall speak it exactly as it is writ!)
As for the Prince, he was truly no happier about the situation than the princess was. Although he wasn’t really a shallow, nor callous man, the idea of being stuck, “shackled”, he thought, to one woman, and an unattractive one at that, simply rankled. He knew that once married, there would be no dalliances with milkmaids, nor chance encounters with the downstairs maids. No indeed, he would be honor-bound to produce the proper number of heirs upon the poor ugly child.
He shuddered. He needed a bit more freedom, a feeling that grew more intense as the preparations for his upcoming nuptials filled the palace with a disturbing amount of hubbub. Leaving a note for his parents was the cowards route, but nonetheless, it is what he did.
Dear Father and Mother,
Worry not ~ I shall return in several days. I am going off to collect myself, and prepare for my upcoming marriage. I will bow to your will on this, but will take this last freedom first.
Leaving the sheet of velum on his desk, he braced it with his silver brush so that someone would see it. He dug in the bottom of his closet for his oldest pants, and the shirt he wore when working with his horses. It was old, slightly frayed, and stained, yet very comfortable. Taking a blanket, and a few coppers from his stash, he went out his balcony, down the stairs, and quietly let himself into the stable. He knew that taking his proud destrier would only gain him unwanted attention, so he took one of the less attractive ponies, and saddled her up with his oldest tack. He did not look like a prince, which was exactly what he wanted. Waving off the stable boy who opened the gate for him, he walked the horse out of the castle grounds, and didn’t begin to trot, then canter, until he was well away. Aah, the sweet smell of freedom wafting to his nostrils….
The princess, though she didn’t know it, was thinking exactly like her prince. She too knew that she would capitulate to her parents demands; she too wanted a bit of freedom to roam unobtrusively through the kingdom one last time. She didn’t want to be a queen…it was odious enough to be a princess, after all. All she wanted was the quiet of her books, and the challenge of creating her library.
She wrote a note to her parents as well; being the good and dutiful daughter she was, she didn’t want them to worry.
Dear Father and Mother,
I love you. I’m NOT happy about this – as you know -this sudden turn of events is difficult for me to embrace just now. Yet I will be your good girl, and marry the odious prince.
I know that you like him, and his parents, but ….well, it’s not fair!
I’m going to go for a ramble. I know you hate when I do it, but it will be the very last freedom I shall ever have, after you shackle me to that jackass.
(who is, by happenstance, is very happy being a princess, you know. I don’t want to be a queen someday. I just want my library dream to come true. You don’t think a randy tomcat like the prince likes to read an actual *book* do you? I didn’t think so. )
Ah, our princess has a bit of a feisty side. Perhaps I didn’t mention that earlier? I believe it comes from her mother’s side of the family–but I digress.
The princess also had a stash of “boy clothing” that she wore when out on her rambles. Her parents had thought that they’d taken the last of those sort of things away from her, but she’d found a pair of her brothers old cast-offs when hanging around the laundry one day, talking with one of the junior laundress’s about the girl’s fixation of penis’. The princess had never seen one, at least, not up close, but Julie had explained them in great and fascinating detail to her. That’s when she’d found the pants, when she had snatched them up to cover her burning cheeks, as Julie explained about hard cocks and the flow of thick cream to her. In actuality, she had forgotten she was holding them when she had left the laundry, and Julie had been too full of mirth to notice.
Deep in her closet were other pieces of old clothing, definitely not “princess” style. Slipping into the pants, she felt a curious sense of freedom. Her breasts were as generous as her mothers, and she took a strip of fabric from her mending pile, and wrapped it around her body, binding her bosom tightly to her chest, flattening herself so that the two shirts she wore made her look more like a stocky youth than a girl. Lastly, she twisted her hair into a knot, bound it with string, and stuffed it into a cap she’d picked up from the ground during a faire last summer. She peered into her mirror. Still her face was pale; taking a sliver of burnt wood from her fireplace, she lightly smudged her face as if she were a dirty urchin. The sun was past its zenith now, and she knew her parents would be taking tea as they met with the advisers who were assisting with the wedding preparations. Sliding out her bedroom window was an old practice, and she climbed carefully down the gingerbreading, reaching the trellis one floor below her. Slipping, her heart raced for a moment, as she gripped the thin slats with white knuckles.
That’d been close!
Catching her breath, she continued down to the ground, and ran to the stables. There was her old friend Henry. He shook his head at her. “This ain ta good idea ‘o yerhigness,” he said, his face frowning.
“Just a quick trip, dear Henry! I promise. Soon I’ll be wed and bedded, and on my way to being a stuffy old queen! I’ll take one of the painted ponies, and be back by sundown, I promise.”
Henry didn’t like the way this was headed- it was always the low man on the post who got the shit on his face, after all. Still, the princess was The Princess…and he couldn’t defy her, either. It was a sticky problem, which she solved by grabbing some light tack and saddling up Sandy.
“Now princess,” Henry began, “you know Sandy doan like the bit none too much…”
“Nonsense. She’ll be fine. Promise!” Quickly the princess finished saddling the small horse, and mounting, blew a quick kiss at the befuddled older man.
It doesn’t sound like a wise plan to me, either. But again, I’m only reading the tale to you, so you’ll just have to shake your head and wonder about these two.
Incidentally, neither of them happened to know about the Very Big Rainstorm that was headed their way. You don’t either, come to think of that. Ah well, that’s part of tomorrow’s chapter. For now, begone, for I’m tired and need some milk.