The Porcelain Princess
part two
Eventually there came the day a prince arrived, he who had travelled more leagues for the Princess than other princes had in their lifetimes. His home kingdom was richer even than the Princess' – he had come not for the political benefit of such a match but was drawn by the Princess' famed face. Of this his father most fervently had spoken of, for the Prince was known throughout his lands as the most handsome man who ever lived; the King had not been able to find the haughty Prince a bride beautiful enough for him. For years his father had searched anxiously, fearing the Prince would never marry and never produce an heir. Therefore eagerly did he send his son to the distant kingdom, hopefully to wed the Princess.
Preceded by his reputation the Handsome Prince was immediately admitted to see the Princess. They gazed into one another's face, and smilingly gave their assent. Clapping his hands together the King released his held breath – his fickle daughter had found a husband she approved of, it seemed a miracle. The Princess and the Handsome Prince gazed almost at one another... though not quite. Each set their sight beyond the other to the various reflective surfaces the room offered them.
And there the courting began and ended.
The marriage was organised as soon as word was received from the foreign King expressing his pleasure at the match, sending his blessing and apologising that state affairs kept him from leaving his kingdom at the time. The day was a bright and happy one, with all folks hastily assembled to see their beautiful Princess finally wed. Even the birds sang their happiness, blending with the song of the minstrels and musicians heralding the event. In sumptuous garb the Prince stood catching his reflection in the glass around the ceremony and smiling as he smoothed his hair and clothing. The music changed and at the entrance to the great hall stood the Princess glowing with pride, dazzling in her dress. Her clothes were for once noticeable, her beautiful face shrouded by her wedding veil. The crowd gasped, some silently admiring, some crying happily, all smiling at the pair. The Princess walked down the aisle to the steps leading up onto the platform to stand beside the priest and her soon-to-be-husband. But as she ascended the stairs there came a sickening ripping sound – and with a startled cry the Princess tripped and fell forward.
It seemed as if her dress had caught beneath her feet, but – curiously – the reason for her fall was never spoken of. Rather, all present would later confirm the muffled shattering sound which rang out. The room froze a moment. Suddenly there was motion everywhere, a flurry of action to aid the Princess. The Handsome Prince dashed to her, grasping her elbow and lifting her to one knee. With his other hand he pulled away her veil to expose her face: recoiling, he pushed the Princess from him, shouting that the wedding was off and calling for his men to pack up their things to prepare to leave the kingdom. The Princess raised her hands to her face in fear and gingerly felt her skin; with a piercing wail she fled from the hall to her room and locked the door, leaving the guests to gossip amongst themselves.
The King stormed after his daughter. Reaching her barred chambers, he called for guards to hack the door down. Broken in, the King went to his daughter's bed and drew aside the hangings. He firmly removed her hands from her face and flinched from what he saw: her porcelain skin was a shattered mess. Bellowing he spun and left the room, eyes wild, hands shaking. Alone, the Princess shut all the curtains, extinguished all the lights and threw sheets over all the mirrors in the lavish room. Alone, the Princess howled her loss to the darkness.
Preceded by his reputation the Handsome Prince was immediately admitted to see the Princess. They gazed into one another's face, and smilingly gave their assent. Clapping his hands together the King released his held breath – his fickle daughter had found a husband she approved of, it seemed a miracle. The Princess and the Handsome Prince gazed almost at one another... though not quite. Each set their sight beyond the other to the various reflective surfaces the room offered them.
And there the courting began and ended.
The marriage was organised as soon as word was received from the foreign King expressing his pleasure at the match, sending his blessing and apologising that state affairs kept him from leaving his kingdom at the time. The day was a bright and happy one, with all folks hastily assembled to see their beautiful Princess finally wed. Even the birds sang their happiness, blending with the song of the minstrels and musicians heralding the event. In sumptuous garb the Prince stood catching his reflection in the glass around the ceremony and smiling as he smoothed his hair and clothing. The music changed and at the entrance to the great hall stood the Princess glowing with pride, dazzling in her dress. Her clothes were for once noticeable, her beautiful face shrouded by her wedding veil. The crowd gasped, some silently admiring, some crying happily, all smiling at the pair. The Princess walked down the aisle to the steps leading up onto the platform to stand beside the priest and her soon-to-be-husband. But as she ascended the stairs there came a sickening ripping sound – and with a startled cry the Princess tripped and fell forward.
It seemed as if her dress had caught beneath her feet, but – curiously – the reason for her fall was never spoken of. Rather, all present would later confirm the muffled shattering sound which rang out. The room froze a moment. Suddenly there was motion everywhere, a flurry of action to aid the Princess. The Handsome Prince dashed to her, grasping her elbow and lifting her to one knee. With his other hand he pulled away her veil to expose her face: recoiling, he pushed the Princess from him, shouting that the wedding was off and calling for his men to pack up their things to prepare to leave the kingdom. The Princess raised her hands to her face in fear and gingerly felt her skin; with a piercing wail she fled from the hall to her room and locked the door, leaving the guests to gossip amongst themselves.
The King stormed after his daughter. Reaching her barred chambers, he called for guards to hack the door down. Broken in, the King went to his daughter's bed and drew aside the hangings. He firmly removed her hands from her face and flinched from what he saw: her porcelain skin was a shattered mess. Bellowing he spun and left the room, eyes wild, hands shaking. Alone, the Princess shut all the curtains, extinguished all the lights and threw sheets over all the mirrors in the lavish room. Alone, the Princess howled her loss to the darkness.