A Writer's Fairytale

Prince James: Finding a Future Princess Out in the Middle of No Where

Why, was the only question that I could think to ask. This was a question that had been running in my mind for several weeks. Why did I have to be the one to go to America to get this writer? Why did I have to talk to this writer? I was going to be rude. I was sure of that. Why did my grandfather even want someone from the Americas to write a story about his life and my families past? Why couldn’t he have chosen someone from our own country? There were several decent writers in Froma. Froma was a small country, but its citizens were well educated and were every dedicated to the royal line. One of those citizens would have been more than happy to help my grandfather. The only reason the writer would think of writing for my grandfather was the money. He had told me to offer 500,000 American dollars as a starting price and more would be considered after we got started. He would think nothing of the history that my grandfather wanted to tell about Froma. He would think nothing of my grandfather. I would hate him I was sure of that.

 “Sir.” I was awakened from my silent rant by my butler Wellesley. “Did you hear what I said?” My expression alone answered his question. “I answered your question sir. You should read a short story that M. Charles wrote so you can get a taste of his writing style.” Wellesley knew that I had not read anything from M. Charles, he also knew that that was an annoyance that my grandfather had.

 “I do not see what the point of me reading anything that this Mr. Charles wrote, my grandfather already made up his mind that he was going to be our writer. I do not see why I must bother myself with his stories.” Every word that came out of my mouth felt like the truth. There was nothing that I wanted of this Mr. Charles. It was my grandfather’s choice. I had no part in helping him decide. I had tried to help him decide. I had given him several writers from Froma that I thought would be great, but he dismissed all of them.

“I see your point sir.” His voice was flat and I could tell that he did not approve of my point but I felt that a false victory and not talking about this was sufficient enough for me.

We sat in silence surrounded only by the noises of the plane to keep us company. I had our private plane with us and I was regretting taking it. I wanted something to distract me from this meeting that I had no wish to take part in. I knew that if this stuck up pompous writer was going to travel back with us he would either sit in silence or he would talk about all of his successes and making sure that everything at Castle Collingwood would inspire him, which was writer speak for the fact that he wanted to be waited on hand and foot and have everything that he could possibly want and have it in the way that he wanted it. Castle Collingwood was full of history and this blighter was going to ruin it. I just wished that my grandfather could have seen that. I wished my grandfather would have stopped being blinded by the work of this man and see that he was going to ruin not only my family’s legacy but also Castle Collingwood and maybe the country too. He would not care about what we would have to say. He would write what he wanted to write, and there was nothing that we were going to be able to do. I was not going to be able to save our legacy.

 “We will be landing soon. I suggest you put on your seat belt. Your Majesty.” The words startled me. I looked up and the words came from a very attractive young lady. She had brunet hair that was tied into a tight ponytail. As far as I could tell there was not one hair out of place. She wore a simple black dress with a white apron on the front of it. She was skinny and her fingers were long and delicate.

 “Thank you for the information.” I watched her walk away before I buckled my seat belt. I turned toward Wellesley “When we land in North Wood will we be going to the meeting or will we be going to our hotel first.” There was a strange look on his face it was almost like he didn’t want to tell me something. “Is there something wrong?”

 He took a long breath before looking out the window and then back at me. “We will not be landing in North Wood. North Wood is far too small to sustain an airport. We will be landing in White Ridge. We will then be taking a limousine from White Ridge to the hotel in North Wood. It will be extremely late when we finally arrive at North Wood. It will be at least 11 if I had to make a wager.” He said looking down at his watch. I had watched him for a few minutes before he readjusted his watch to the time zone that we would be in. 

My mind was disheartened I was hoping that I could talk to this man and be out of the town by morning tomorrow I could see that was not going to happen. I gave a slight sigh and then straightened up. We sat in silence until the airplane had landed.

…………………

 Wellesley was almost right on about the time that we arrived at the hotel. I looked at my wristwatch and saw that it read 11:15. There was a giddy girl at the front desk that I had no interest in communicating with. I was usually polite with women, who were star struck by the sight of royalty, even if they do not know what country I came from, but this time the long day had driven me to be less then tolerable and I decided that Wellesley could handle everything just fine. I started to walk out the door when Wellesley came running to me from the front desk where he had just talked to the girl. “The room number is 6, Sir and it is on the second floor. Here is your key, sir. My room number is 5 if you need anything your majesty.”

“Thank you,” I said as I grabbed the key and put it into my coat pocket. I watched him bow his head.

I walked out the door and the fresh air felt good in my lungs. After the long trip on the airplane my lungs were tight with stale air. I did not want to be here, but if I must I was going to at least see why he had chosen to live here. I had just started walking when I saw a girl walk across the street. She seemed to be in her own world. She was looking around, but I could tell that she was not going to look at or for anything it particular. I could not tell what she looked like, but it did not matter. She should not be out this late alone; things can happen to women when they are out late at night alone. I decided to follow her.

The first building that she passed I could not tell what it was until I was standing in front of it. It was a jewelry store. It had several gems that sparkled under the low glow of the street lamps.  She had passed by a building that I assumed was a barber shop and then she stayed a long time looking into a building. I could not tell what the building looked like or even what was in it, but she seemed very interested in it.

She stood in front of that window for several minutes before I heard her say “I am not pretty.” 

This phrase took me by surprise I was raised to know the exact opposite. No matter what a girl looked like she was pretty to someone. “Every girl is pretty,” I said hoping to lift her sprits. It was not until I heard her scream that I thought my words might have startled her. I did not mean to, but I did not take into a count that it was the middle of the night and she was not expecting anyone to be listening to her. “Don’t scream. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You didn’t mean to startle me? What did you expect was going to happen if you spoke?” Her complete lack of caring of my feelings took me by surprise. I mean she had the right to be angry, but for her to just say that. She was a surprise. I liked it.

No one that I had ever known was willing to tell me how they really felt. They were always afraid of hurting my feelings. They were afraid of hurting a royals feelings. They would not have been worried about hurting my feelings had I been a regular person, but being born to royalty they were terrified of hurting my feelings. They were terrified of what I might do to them if they hurt my feelings. They thought that I would be some dictator and lock them in jail, if they ever said anything wrong about me. There was also the aspect is that they were raised to “respect” me. It’s just respect and treating me like a god were two different things, and they did not realize that.

I watched her freeze for several seconds, and then I saw her run. She ran hard and fast, for a few seconds until her foot caught a crack in the sidewalk and she fell hard. I ran to her and then when I was close enough to her, I started to walk. When I was less than a meter away, I looked at her. I could see that something was wrong.  “Are you alright?” I asked.

“I am fine.” Her voice was ruff and rude. It lacked joy and enthusiasm, I credited most of that to the startle that I had given to her before she bolted, but I could not help but think that there was something that the world had done to her to make her voice the bitter thing that it was.

I was concerned about her. I could see that something was off. I silently crouched she did not see me do it. I could tell that she was still looking for my figure her eyes must have not been well adjusted to the darkness. “Are you sure?” I asked, knowing that she was not and that she was hurting.

“I am fine,” she insisted but just as she had she made an effort to her knee. I knew that if she grabbed it and something was really wrong she would just make it worse. I grabbed her hands just as she was about to make a break for her knee. I could see the protest in her eyes. Fire ignited in her and it spread like a wildfire ‘til it covered and set everything inside her ablaze. “Excuse me.” Her words sounded forced and I knew she was trying to muster more words toward the surface. She was also mustering up her strength. “It would be very kind of you if you would let go of my arms, sir,” her words said in a normal tone would sound polite and well mannered, but in her voice they were cloaked in dark disdain.

I could not figure out if she disliked me or if it was my gender that she was so bitter towards. It felt to me that I was just standing in as a part for all the men that had every done her wrong. By how much her voice sounded of hatred there must have been several men that had done her wrong. I wanted to tell her that I would never hurt a woman physically or mentally, but I refrained and I brought myself back to the world of the conscious by saying “Do you promise not to grab your knee?”

“Why?” This was the first time that I heard her say anything that was not cloaked in darkness. Her voice was spiked with curiosity. This was a curiosity that I found intoxicating. I could tell that she wanted to know the secrets of the world and that was just the first question to getting her answers. It made me want to spend the whole night listening to the questions that she had stacked in her mind, and answering as many as I possibly could, and find the answers that neither of us knew.

I knew better than try and answer her question instead I did the trick that I had learned best from my grandfather “Do you promise not to grab your knee?” I re-asked the question. He had taught me that sometimes it is not best to answer the questions of others; instead you ask your own question again. It makes them think that your question is far more important than the question that the person had just asked. I did not know if she would fall for this or not.

Her voice was strong, but I could tell that it was a struggle for her to say, “Alright sure whatever.” I did not think that she had fallen for the trick, more she did not want to deal with me, and that was the only way that she knew how to shut me up.

That phrase though nonspecific and lacked enthusiasm would have been enough for me for anyone but her. There was something inside me that liked seeing her fire. I liked to see her temper. I had never heard many people get a temper, but I do not think that I would have liked anyone else’s temper. There was something that was different about her. “I want to hear you say I promise.” I had kept my voice calm. That was a trick that I had learned after many years in the castle. I learned that no matter how you are feeling if you can keep your voice calm people will listen.

There was a brief pause in that brief pause I could hear her take a large breath of air. She was clearly trying to calm herself down. That disappointed me; I wanted to see her fire. “I promise,” she said her voice was strong but I could hear a strain of defeat in her voice and I had never meant to do that one. I just wanted to see her fire. I did not want to her to feel defeated by a man that she did not know. I am sure that she thought it was a victory for me, but it was a shallow one if any.

My eyesight was not terrible in the dark so I saw the minute that I let go of her hands she went toward her knee again. “You promised.” I saw her hands quickly retreat to her side. That was a war that I did not mind winning. I wanted, I needed to make sure that she was ok, that she would not hurt her knee any worse than what had already happened.

I slowly began to put my hands around her back and legs when I heard her scream “What are you doing?” I quickly removed my hands from her. I was startled to see that she was angry. All I wanted to do was help. Looking back, she had a right to be angry. I had not told her what my plans were, I think that any smart girl would have been a little hesitant to let me do anything. There was a silence I wanted to explain myself, but I wondered if that would help or if it would just make her angrier. I began to see her shiver. I took off my coat and put it around her. She was curious about the new thing that was now touching her shoulders. When she figured out that it was a coat, she looked up at what she now had determined was my face. I gave a smile though I was pretty sure that she could not see it. “You looked cold.” I gave a second pause getting up my courage to continue. “May I carry you?” I was finally able to push out.