25 November 2012
By Miscellaneous. The tower was ready and waiting for a prince. However, none came, and the Princess stayed in the small top room in the woods spending time trying to grow out her hair, do keratin strengthening exercises, practice singing and coaxing cute animals to befriend her. Unfortunately, her hair never grew longer than her waist, and was rather weak. The animals stayed away from the tower due to the loud singing, so she had to choose between a good voice or company. She decided a voice, because princes always find princesses due to hearing and following lovely music. One day, while she was combing her hair and doing tongue twisters to loosen her mouth, she heard a cracking sound, and peered out the small window, (that was still big enough for a prince to come in through.) Down below, a young man was on a horse. A brown horse. The Princess pursed her lips. Prince’s horses were to be white. “Madam!” the man called out in alarm. “Are you in need of help?” “Oh!” the Princess called. She had been practicing her speech when her One True Love came. “I… My Hero!!!” “Here, let me get you down!” He hurried to the other side of the… brown... horse, and came back in view with a rope. “I’m going to toss this up,” he told her. “Hook it to something, and climb down!” The Princess’s brow crinkled delicately. The escape wasn’t supposed to be so easy. “Oh,” she cried out, “I be afeared of heights!” The man looked up at her, with a puzzled expression on his face. “How can you stand it up in that tower, then?” he asked doubtfully. “Well…” the princess fumbled, “I stay in the back corner constantly. My… um… captor knew I hated heights, and… brought me here.” “Captor.” “Yes…” the princess floundered. “Uh, quick! She be a-coming here, uh, soon! Make haste! Mount thy steed, and-” “She’s not a steed,” he said. He was doubting this mad girl. “Excuse me? Oh, right.” The Princess blushed. “Your stallion, and-” “She’s not a stallion, he said. “She’s a pony. Her name’s Peanut.” He turned to the horse. “Right Peanut? Huh? Right?” He nuzzled her. The Princess was shocked. “Excuse me! Prince!” He looked up, confused. “I- I’m not a prince! I’m the good knight Sir Goodwater’s squire!” He laughed. “You thought I was the prince?!” He lowered his voice confidentially. “In fact, the, *ahem* good Prince Calgon the MCLth has been captured in a tower not much different than your own!” The Princess paled. There was no prince? All this trouble and no prince?! She was going to burst into sobs. “No,” she pepped herself. “Regain composure. This - this peasant will not see a Princess cry.” Aloud, she exclaimed, “Hark! I heareth the step of my captor! Run, underling - I mean squire! The squire gladly did so, worrying slightly about the mental health of the lady, but not enough to come back with a ladder and a doctor. The Princess settled back in her tower. Her talking with the squire had brought forward two problems: One, she needed to find a captor for authenticity, and two, there was no prince.
TO BE CONTINUED
A Love Story • Opuss № I