Turn, turn, turn in the ballroom, then handed off to another prince. This repeating theme of courtship and dance became dull to her, for the ones she danced with, each one the princess would gaze into their eyes. Nothing but gold. She did not see herself nor the love felt from both hand and eyes from these men of royalty. Starting to feel the weight of her father’s stare, the one felt with anger and grief, she kept up with the charade. Ten more dashing princes to go. Ten more hands to hold. Ten more lies to unfold. Turn, turn, turn.
Can’t walk away from it all, though the dances are done and the king has yet to discuss with his daughter her pick, the other man she must serve. Everyone is wining and dining, cheap talk amongst the high born of land owned and battles fought, though they did not fight in them their selves. Empty glasses refilled, bottles empty from the refills, the chatter becomes louder. Laughter can be heard from all around the room, vibrating from the golden tapestry to the beautifully decorated stained glass, with each one honoring the past. Under the noise of delight and cheer, the king felt a cold grip around his ankle, as if an outstretched arm snaked its way through the crowd to find only him as it’s victim. Staring up from his throne, whom the princess was too tired to notice his stare towards the door, the king saw… him.
I’m already here.
In an instance, everyone stopped in their motions. No word heard nor muscle moved. Everything changed to gray. Time itself gripped it’s own gears to a halt, allowing these words to be heard from this stranger, but not a stranger to the king. His eyes opened wide in disbelief, but he knew that voice. So long ago did the king abandon the puppet, yet its’ touch and voice remained. He lacked the words to comprehend what he was seeing as the stranger walked through the stiff and silent crowd. Brushing aside each and everyone, step by step he came closer to the king, but his eyes shifted to his daughter. With such a tired expression on her face, the stranger saw in the burden that her father had put on her through those sad eyes.
No other color can make her soul more beautiful, even with the days of gray are upon you.
Those words rang in the kings head, trying to still grip the reality that is soon to be. He felt it in his heart that the puppet is here for the payment that is due. No gold, land, and sweet talk can change it’s mind. Noticing the puppet’s stare, the king shifted his view to his daughter, tired from the dance and of her only known future. Words of grief and anger filled the room, soon to over flow the brim with words of regret.
Your dream has come to an end as I am here to collect. Did you think you could play me for the fool? My heart is scarred because of you. No more can I see my days of color, it’s all gray and has followed me here. Yet, as you have promised me and as one to uphold them, I’m here for her. Those eyes filled with such sorrow will be gone with visions of a better time, ones without those gray days. She will be my heart, my love, my true…
Sadden for his wrongful actions of the past, the king knew that he was dealing with a power that not even the works of steel or magic could withstand. He asked if she would be happy. If she will ever find the love needed that was gone so long ago…
To be continued.
This story is the property of Eric McVinney. Distribution to any unauthorized persons are prohibited.