The Princess in the Tower (Wrong Princess, Right Tower)

The Princess in the Tower

(Wrong Princess, Right Tower)

By Hattie

There was once a princess locked away in a tall tower. Kept away from all who might claim her beauty, covet her loveliness, take her virtue. And then one day there was a prince, fair and tall and from whose tongue slipped silvered words, who climbed the tower to rescue his prize. His white palfrey waiting patiently at the foot of the tower, back broad and legs strong enough for two. At last, nails cracked and hands blistered, he hauled himself over the crumbling ledge of the window, rolling inside and ending on his knees before the feet of his bride.

“Princess! I am here to rescue you!”

“Now then”, said his bride. The prince looked her over, noting the lines at her eyes, the grey in her hair, the broadness of her waist. “Who sed I need rescuin’?” She pointed to a dirty mat by him. “Wipe tha bloody feet.” The golden crown shining on top of shining golden curls didn’t give her a minute of pause, and after a lengthy pause he did as she said.

She still moved with grace, though slowed by clear age, and the prince felt his heart sink as he watched the woman he’d been dreaming of take slow steps away from him. She looked back at him, those eyes still sharp and clear as they met his own.

of the materials and the vastness of the drop. The rope seemed to be made of separate strands, each shining and golden, so the ladder looked like it was formed from strands of spun gold, and he thought back to the rumours he’d heard of this trapped princess, of the legends surrounding her. He gave it a tug experimentally, and she gave a short laugh. “Don’

worry ‘bout it. Ah’ve bin down tha’ more times than yeh’ve had hot dinners. Yeh’ll be reet.”

‘But you still come back here? To your prison?’

She shrugged. “Gotta

mek the best o’ what yeh’ve bin given. Besides, it’s mah home now. Though ah am thinkin’ o’ getting’ a pulley pu’ in,

mekin’ an elevator. What d’yeh think?” She gave a low laugh, the sound almost alien to the prince as he contemplated a life where he made the best of what he had been given.

He nodded. “If you do, can I come back to visit?”

The princess beamed, the loveliness of yore back as her face lit up. “Yeh’ll always be welcome. Yeh know where t’find me.” She gave him a light push towards the ladder and his life. “Do me a favour,

eh? Keep spreadin’ the rumour. It’d be nice t’ have some more company, an’ more come back than yeh’d think.”