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“Alright, which one do you want to hear today?” Blaise pulled a chair up to his little cousin’s bedside and sat down with an unenthusiastic sigh. Babysitting wasn’t exactly on the top of his list of favorite things to do, and he wasn’t too good at it either. “What about the one with the singing witch who lives alone in that ice castle? You like that, right?”
“Hmm, I do,” the little girl said hesitantly, “however, I’m starting to get bored of it.”
“Duhh, 8-year-olds,” he thought and rolled his eyes internally. “Okay. Which one then?”
The girl looked too puzzled for someone who is searching for an answer to such an insignificant question. “I really would like to hear something new,” she said eventually.
“Which one have you never heard before?” Blaise scanned the bookshelf standing next to the bed.
“I’ve heard them all, and I’m sick of them. Tell me a new story. I want to hear a new one.”
“What?” he frowned. “I don’t know any other story.”
“Make one up then. I don’t mind. Just make it entertaining.”
“Why don’t you just choose from one of your books? I’m sure you’ll survive listening to one of them one more time. Or I have a better idea: we skip the story today, and your mom will tell you two stories tomorrow. What do you say?”
“I say no. I can’t fall asleep without a bedside story, but these books are boring. Tell me something new!” the girl’s voice was getting perilously close to its pre-tantrum pitch, so Blaise figured he should stay on her good side and just give her what she wants.
“Fine. Let’s see,” he sighed and tried to structure an acceptable storyline in his head. “So, here is the tale of the mean princess who died alone.”
“That doesn’t sound too good,” she knitted her brows, but as she saw the apathetic expression on her cousin’s face she quickly added, “however, it does sound entertaining, so please go on.”
“Good. So, once upon time there was this mean princess…”
“What was her name?”
“Ohm, Pansy. As I said: there was this mean princess, Pansy, who lived in a castle with her dragon.”
“What did she look like?”
“It was like just a normal dragon. Big and green. Her name was Millie.”
“Not the dragon, silly, the princess.”
“Yeah, sure. The princess was small and always looked unimpressed. She had straight, shoulder-length, almost black hair. Her face was more or less pretty with large, brown eyes and a tiny, usually pouting mouth.”
“That was… very specific.”
“Yes, it was. Now, would you please stop interrupting me? I’m trying to tell a story here.”
“Okay, I’m sorry.”
“So, where was I? Ah, yeah, mean princess Pansy and her dragon lived in a big, fancy castle. The princess was sent there because she was so mean to everyone in the kingdom that her father, the king, decided to ground her in the royal way. She wasn’t allowed to leave her castle until she learned how to be nice with everyone.
All good knights and princes in the region came to rescue the princess from the dragon-guarded castle – as this was the tradition. But the king’s main reason to choose a castle with a dragon included wasn’t just to follow the trend. He didn’t want the princess to have a bad rep in the circle of potential husbands, so the job of Millie would have been to guard the mean princess and scare all good knights and princes away. But Pansy – being a strong opposer of animal labor – chose to scare away all the good knights and princes herself.
All suitors whose message was simply ignored could consider themselves lucky. Because, obviously, every knight and prince firstly reached out for the princess via pigeon post, announcing their soon arrival. Owls were not that cool those days.
So, as I said, the luckier ones just weren’t given an answer, however, there were some insistent fellas who weren’t grateful for their good fortune. From Prince Marcus of Some Small-Poor Land, for instance, Princess Pansy collected no less then forty-five letters saying “Hey, what’s up?” and a couple more with the differently misspelled versions of the same sentence. Or there was Prince Adrian from Some Other Country, who, after not receiving an answer, sent a second, pathetically long letter, in which he expressed his frustration and claimed that the princess is a ‘tasteless bitter witch’, who will not find love ever in her life. He more or less managed to achieve his goal, as Pansy eventually graced him with a brief answer saying “Not tasteless tough”.
Yeah, this is how she rolled. If she thought that the sender of the message would be particularly enjoyable to torture, she gave them an answer and an appointment for a ‘meeting with the dragon’. Needles to say, the word ‘dragon’ did not refer to Millie in that context.
Pansy planned the same adventurous program to each of her royal visitors: every time a good prince arrived, he got the opportunity to have some tea with her. Sounds harmless, right? Well… Let’s just say all of them lost something on the trip: their confidence, potential, mental stability, or occasionally their soul.
And these were just the princes – the knights usually came off way worse. I mean, let’s be honest, they had even less chance. Everyone wants a prince, right? I think we can understand Pansy here. So, the knights also got rejected in various cruel and disgracing ways, one after the other: Shining Samuel, Peacock Paul, That-Blonde-Knight Form-That-Ball-Last-Year. Oh, and the tragic story of Glittering Gabriel – don’t even get me started on the tragic story of poor Glittering Gabriel.
This is how the mean princess passed time in her exile. But no bully stays on her throne forever – not even if she is a princess and has an actual throne. So, inevitably, soon came someone to bring Pansy down a peg or two.
That certain someone arrived on a stereotypically bright and sunny day. The princess and her dragon were sunbathing in the park, when an attractive young man jumped over the castle ditch on his majestic, expensive-looking, black horse.
He wasn’t particularly handsome but still was something very nice to look at. He seemed tall even after he got off his horse, which was certainly a plus. He had short, perfectly-styled, prince-blonde hair, grayish, heavy blue eyes, and his skin was remarkably clear. He smelled like some fancy whisky. – By which I mean scotch, obviously. There’s nothing fancy about bourbon.
The prince caught Pansy’s attention immediately. She didn’t remember scheduling anyone for today, but she didn’t mind the surprise visitor. Plus, the poor good-looking thing had probably travelled a lot to see her. It would have been very rude to send him home right away. So, she greeted the prince and invited him to join her for tea.
Firstly, Pansy did not have much expectations. She was sure that the conversation would be a short one – these pretty ones usually don’t even last for an hour or so. She was ready to return to sunbathing soon, however, that’s not what happened.
After they settled down to the white garden table under one of the oaks and started talking, the princess felt something that she had never felt before. The prince was indeed a nice piece, but what he had to say was even nicer – or at least that’s how Pansy would have described it.
She was impressed by the prince’s exceptionally harsh language, as he explained how he arrived late because of the crazy traffic, and how he hated those slug knights on the road. ‘I tell you, commoners should not have the access to a riding-license in the first place. I don’t know when this kingdom got so liberal. What’s next? Complete social equality?’ Then he expressed a rather negative opinion on the ruling style of the currently most powerful Red King – whose ruling style wasn’t the only ruling style he opposed. And believe me when I say, the price had just started with his long list of things to complain about.
Pansy was just stunned by this man. He was so much more interesting than the others. In addition, he was as mean as our princess if not meaner. It was love at first sound. So, for the first time in her life she asked her visitor to return and invited him to have some tea again next week.”
“So, that’s it?” the girl asked with a frown her face. “The mean princess just needed an equally mean prince? How creative. Let me guess: they fall in love with each other, get married, and have a bunch of super mean children.”
“What? Oh, no. You’re not even close,” grinned Blaise. “The princess asked the prince to return, and he indeed returned a couple of times, but they didn’t get married. The prince didn’t want the princess at all. He was just bored, and playing with the princess kept him entertained for a while. The same way the princess entertained herself with the torture of all the other poor fellas.”
“What?” asked the little girl, shocked. “That’s awful!”
“It is indeed”, nodded Blaise with an indifferent expression on his face.
“No, I don’t like it. I don’t accept this. Change the story! Pansy and the prince are the perfect match, they have to be together.”
The boy shook his head. “There’s no such thing as ‘the perfect match’. Anyway, don’t you remember the title? The mean princess was yet again left alone in her castle and eventually died alone. The End.”
“Well that’s depressing.” The girl pouted.
“I’m sorry, weren’t you entertained?”
“No. I was at first, but now I’m disappointed.”
“Good,” nodded Blaise. “You learned something important about life today. Goodnight.”