The Truth About Princes

The Truth About Princes

         And the prince carried the girl off into the sunset and they all lived happily ever after…

         Or so the stories went. Xylia wouldn’t really know, because the prince had to take a sudden rain check on their life together.

         She scrubbed another dish and sighed, why couldn’t her life be that way? The way it was in fairytales? Of course the prince wasn’t usually sent after a run away scullery maid, but that was another tale…

* * *

         Xylia packed her few possessions into a sack: her coarse dress, tin cup, and knife. Stealthily she slipped into the kitchen and grabbed some cheese, bread, and a few turnips. Glancing about, her heart racing, she opened the door to freedom and quietly slipped out.

         She hurried down the garden path and climbed over the low wooden wall, easy enough for a peasant girl such as she. Jumping over the edge, she walked out into the forest, relishing her newfound escape from drudgery.

         The night air was crisp, and the forest's children composed the music of the night with excellent precision. An owl hooted, a mouse squeaked, and somewhere in the distance a wolf howled at the crescent moon. Magic seemed to infuse itself in the trees, and dance playfully beneath the stars. The back of Xylia’s neck tingled with anticipation.

         It’s really not easy being a scullery maid, she thought to herself as she strode along. Scrub, cut, wash, and then all over again the next day, it certainly is boring. Those nobles have no idea, and I’ve heard them complain a lot! Oh I just cannot go on! The weight of deciding where to plant this years’ field of turnips is too much for me! Stupid nobles.

         She kicked a pinecone. If only that were that fat fool of a kings head! She would have liked that. The king was the most grossly obese being she had ever seen. He ate five main courses a night, and drank enough wine to kill a horse. And gave me so many dishes to wash that I was always the last to leave the scullery! Stupid king.

         But there was one noble… The prince. Oh, how extraordinarily he differed from his father. Instead of being obese he was slim and muscular. And his intelligence was a fair notch above the king's. But might as well wish for flying cows as wish for him to even look at her; her, just a skinny girl of fifteen with wild red hair, blazing green eyes, and a slightly turned up nose, no, never.

         She hummed to herself and twirled, stepping lightly on her feet, as she took small leaps. That was one advantage of being as small as she was, the agility that came with lightness. Sometimes she almost felt as if she could fly… But then there were times when her smallness rooted her to the ground with fear. Like the time the scullery mistress came after her for breaking a dish. She was a humongous woman with hands that looked like mallets. Ugh, bad memories better shake them off so they don’t come with.

         Memories, oh memories. She had her fill of bad and a few good, but what she wished she had were memories of her parents. She never knew who they were, being an orphan found on the step of the local lord's castle.

         And not much of a castle either! It was just wood with stone reinforcements. It didn’t even have a moat! His royal highness of obesity was to busy eating to improve his living conditions.

         Deciding that it was time to settle in for the night, Xylia looked around for a suitable tree. She had always loved trees, climbing them since she had been able to walk. Whoever was stuck watching the mischievous child she had been was usually frazzled into a worried exhaustion after chasing the girl out of trees all day. Spying a maple tree with large branches, and a cozy little girl sized nest in the center, she threw her few possessions up into the boughs, and scrambled nimbly up the trunk. Curling up she was sent to sleep with visions of princes on white horses, and fantastic sunsets, not thinking at all about the dangers that a forest offered to its visitors.

* * *


         Now, as far as princes go, the average one was handsome, witty, debonair, and utterly irresistible. In fact, except for that certain arrogance that they carried about with them, they were some of the best of their gender. Elamdar was exactly the opposite. He was not witty, for his father was too busy eating to see that his education was taken care of. His charm was practically non-existent, for he had spent his time playing with the common “riff-raff”; his father was to busy ordering his hunters to denude the forest at that point in the young boys' life to care who he played with.

         In fact, the only thing that Elamdar had going for him was his looks, which he got from his mother, who was quite beautiful, but as stupid as a cow. One thing the king did have an eye for was beauty. So, consequently, Elamdar was a dim-witted, uncouth, yet handsome young heir to a small backwater country who’s biggest industry was turnips.

         “But father, it’s only one silly scullery maid!” prince Elamdar whined annoyingly.

         “My son, that is the third one this week! How am I going to eat with no servants, eh?” The king asked, stripping the last meat off of a bone and throwing it to the ravenous dogs on the ground.

         “You could live off of your current blubber for three life times,” Elamdar muttered to himself.

         “Eh what son?”

         “Nothing father, nothing. All I’m saying is, well can’t me and cousin Azdar just go and raid some of the neighboring peasant cottages, that’s real fun!” he looked up at his father hopefully.

         “No my son, no. That scullery maid was sufficient and I don’t want to have the others waste time training a new one, I’d rather have them cooking veal. Nice, juicy veal,” the king said, slobber dripping out of his mouth and onto his royal robes. “Anyway, just go fetch the lass eh?”

         “But father…” Elamdar whined, stomping his feet.

         “I expect this out of a small child, not a eighteen year old man like you. Now if you do not fetch her I will take away all your horses and sell them to the tanner, I hear horses make excellent leather,” the king remarked smugly.

         The prince looked at the floor, ceiling, and windows and sighed in the manner of a man without another option. He did need his horses to impress the lasses and hunt after all. “Fine, I’ll go,” the prince sulked, and dragged his sorry feet out of the throne room.

* * *

         Xylia groggily opened her eyes to the sound of several birds reveling joyously in song. She blinked the grit out of her eyes and sat up, yawning. Opening all her senses she took a deep breath that smelled of rich soil and morning dew, and tasted the wind with the tip of her tongue. Yes, she thought to herself, this is where I belong. An impish grin gradually appeared upon her heart shaped face; she deemed today to be a good day for travel.

         She threw her sack of belongings onto the ground, and deftly climbed down the branches of the stately tree. Tossing her bag over her shoulder she set out on the open, and empty, road.

         Xylia daydreamed as she walked along. What would it be like to be queen? To have someone else wash the dishes, have someone else cook the food. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she wondered what royalty ever did with their time. Servants shopped, cooked, farmed, cleaned, and even dressed their masters. The more she thought about it the more she wondered what kind of life experience one could have with a life of total leisure. Why surely, they would be… Vegetables.

         Suddenly she had to stop and beat the air in front of her, for it was full of gnats. She stopped suddenly and gave her armpit a tentative sniff. Dear God! I reek to high heaven! Well at least she had goal number one for the day: take a bath!

         Returning to her thoughts of royalty her mind drifted towards Elamdar, as the adolescent mind tends to do. No, her Elamdar could never be like that, never. He was brave, handsome, and intelligent… And most definitely out of reach. She sighed and bowed her head, well maybe there would be a nice stable boy at the next castle she stopped by for work, that wouldn’t be so bad, at least she wouldn’t feel so terribly alone anymore.

         Xylia sniffled and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, that wasn’t the way she wanted her life to proceed. She wanted it all, even when everything around her contradicted all her hopes. Xylia finally sat down and sobbed by a weeping willow.
* * *


         Price Elamdar sighed and gave a futile kick to his horse’s belly. “Hurry up ye old nag!”

         The horse sighed back in response and managed to walk a smidge faster than before. It was tired of prince Elamdar and had a serious urge to buck him off. The only reason it didn’t was for fear of being whipped. Contrary to Xylia’s thoughts, the prince was anything but intelligent and gentle, as mentioned before.

         “This is a total and complete waste of time! Do you hear that nag? An utterly stupid trip!”

         Suddenly a feminine scream burst from the path ahead of him. Prince Elamdar urged the horse ahead quickly, not really thinking about what might have caused the scream or how to deal with it. To him all women were fickle creatures who fainted at the mere sight of a drop of blood. But as he burst upon the scene of the crime, the petty prince let out a rather feminine scream of his own.

* * *


         After about a quarter of an hour’s worth of weeping Xylia finally stood up and wiped her face. Self-pity was obviously going to get her nowhere, except the gloomy realm of depression.

         She grabbed her sack, slung it over her shoulder, and started out on the road once more. As she walked she wondered where she should go. She’d heard of a few villages along the way, but she would find no work with simple farmers who already knew how to cook and clean. No she’d have to go to the city, where if she played her cards right, she could probably find work at a tavern.

         Her mind made up she sped up her walk and added a bit of bounce to her step. She was free, free to do whatever she chose! Oh what an exhilarating feeling!

         Xylia heard a rumble, akin to that of thunder, and not too distant either. She drew her knife and looked about warily. Hearing nothing else she decided it must be her all to vivid imagination. The rumble sounded again, this time much closer. Xylia turned around. Her eyes grew wide and she felt suddenly short of breath.

         The twelve-foot troll with greasy black hair, and slobber covering his whole torso, stared down at her and grunted primitively, “Crunch & lunch!”

         It was all Xylia could do just to produce one scream in her terror.

* * *

         The prince rode up to the screaming figure of Xylia and stopped dead in his tracks. Gibbering with terror, his horse bolted, and he fell to the ground in a heap.

         The troll the turned upon the prince, who just happened to have much more meat on him than Xylia did. “More to eat! Me feel like meat!”

         “Ahhhhh!” was the prince’s stately comment.

         Xylia just stared in horror, why that nasty troll was going to eat her true love! He would not get away with such an atrocious act! Not if she had anything to do with it.

         Xylia leapt ferociously onto the trolls back and started beating him with her small fists. The troll, annoyed by this tiny mosquito of a girl, swung grandly about and threw her off of his back quickly and neatly. Xylia gasped as she hit a tree and the wind was knocked out of her. The troll approached upon the petrified Elamdar and scooped him up.

         “Ahhhh!” was once again all the noble prince had to say.

         “No! Elamdar!” But Xylia was too late, he had become troll rations.

         The disgusting troll gave a loud belch and out came Elamdar’s sword! Lady luck was certainly with Xylia today!

         “Ick, uck! Me not want that ucky muck!”

         Xylia deftly grabbed the sword and spun around to face the troll. “I’ll kill you, you heathen! You ate my love!”

         “Yep, I shove love. Eat you later, me full with tater.”

         “Die!”

         And with that Xylia flung herself in a desperate attempt for revenge. She swung the heavy sword with such fervor that the troll wore a look off shock upon its face.

         Xylia screamed again, though this time it was a scream of battle. “Why won’t you fight me?”

         “Me not eat little tasty now, me take you back to big troll pow-wow.” And with that the troll scooped her up and clutched her under his horribly smelly arm. The stench was phenomenal! It was worse than the throne room after the king had had beans for dinner, and that was a difficult feat to top!

         “Let me loose you revolting putrid monster!”

         Suddenly Xylia had an ingenious idea! She peered up at the troll, who was intent on finding his way back to camp, which wasn’t easy because his brain was the size of a peanut. Slowly she tightened her grip on the sword, which the troll had miraculously forgotten. Quickly she made her move, and stuck the sword up the trolls nose.

         “Oww! Oww! Bad! Bad little tasty!”

         Deftly she turned the sword and gave a sharp upward thrust, right into the trolls’ miniscule brain. The troll fell instantly to the ground, where Xylia hurriedly untangled herself from the stinky corpse.

         “Disgusting, troll snot!” she exclaimed, wiping the mucus on the trolls' shorts.

         Xylia sat down, realizing the improbability of what had just happened. She had killed a troll! A full-grown troll! Most girls she knew had never even killed a rabbit! How miraculous! And now that she thought about it, losing Elamdar didn’t pain her all that much…

         Suddenly the truth began to dawn on her. Elamdar was indeed very much like his father, stupid, rude, and above all arrogant. He didn’t even have the gall to stand up and fight the troll, while she, a mere “girl” was able to defeat it in a matter of minutes.

         “Thank you! You proved a great lesson to me today,” she bowed to the troll corpse. “But now I really must be on my way.”

         And with that Xylia set of on the road to a new life, and a new understanding to that life. Princes are not always what they seem.



I have another chapter to this, should I continue? Let me know! Please rate and review, thanks!