Part eight
Been locked up in her castle for so long, Princess Desmorelda yearned often to step outside. Like every other person the Princess had big dreams, high expectations, but after seeing such darkness in her life from the age of two she realized that those dreams were meant for people who are asleep, in real life, life is hard, there are no fairy tale endings, even for a Princess. This Princess did not wake up every morning to birds singing and chirping around her head, singing magically about what a grand day it was going to be. No, this Princess woke up every morning wanting to close her eyes and dwell just a little longer in the land of beautiful dreams where she was safe.
This morning was no different. Princess Desmorelda stretched on her bed in the morning and starred at the ceiling, she heard Sir Donovan shuffling downstairs and she sighed, she was no longer free even in her own castle. The princess knew that this world she lived in was beautiful, that there was so much out there, so much of good, but she knew that the people out there where shady, this world would be an ideal place if there were no people in it complicating life.
With a heavy heart Princess Desmoralda slumped out of bed, and went to get ready for her day before making her way downstairs. She met Sir Donovan in the Dining Hall; he stood besides the long mahogany
dining table and smiled politely at the Princess,
“Join me for breakfast Your Highness,” he said in kind manner.
“Sure,” the Princess replied sullenly as she sat down.
They ate in silence as the Princess sulking avoided looking at Sir Donovan. Sir Donovan looked at the Princess, his curiosity growing with everyday he stayed in the castle. He barely saw the princess, she kept herself well hidden in the shadows of her magnificent castle. He couldn’t begin to understand how someone would chose to live in such isolation. He had began to observe that even though the Princess had a calm exterior, she had a fire burning inside of her, she could become dark and hostile if pushed, this was not a Princess to be messed with and definitely not a Princess for the very shallow Prince Charming. Because as beautiful as she was on the outside, Sir Donovan suspected she was so much more complicated on the inside, these complications drew him to her, his enquiring mind wanting to know exactly what lied beneath the surface of Princess Desmoralda. He had no idea how to break the Princess, but he knew he had to be gentle about it.
That afternoon Sir Donovan caught Princess Desmoralda painting in the library. He crept up and stood behind her watching her as she blended rich colors on her canvas. Her painting was very unusual, there was a lone girl sitting in the shadows, but her eyes, her eyes glowed bright yellow in the darkness. It was haunting.
Princess Desmorelda felt the presence of someone behind her and she turned around, shocked to see Sir Donovan behind her, her palette fell from her hands, as she bent down to pick it up, Sir Donovan did the same and his hand touched hers. In that instant the Princesses skin burned and sizzled, leaving a big green open wound where Sir Donovan’s hand touched her. Both of them screamed in agony as Sir Donovan retracted his hand and Desmorelda hid her burnt hand behind her back.
Sir Donovan starred at his slightly burnt fingers and then gazed at the Princess in astonishment,
“What on earth is going on?” He asked as he backed away, his eyes wide with shock.
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