From the moment I was born, I heard the whispers. They started as echoes, bouncing off the walls of my strong stone fortress, onto the sheer canopy, and into my cradle. Prince Xavier, they mumbled into my ears as I slept. Find your princess.
Father was a kind king. His bedtime stories were his respite after hours of sitting at his desk and negotiating with courtiers and concubines. He would sit on the edge of my bed and stroke his wise old beard, holding out a book for me to see as he read in all sorts of voices. When voicing the vikings, he would lower his voice into a gruff, hoarse grunt, thick eyebrows wiggling suggestively after every line. When voicing the maiden, he would coo and sing his words in as high a voice as he could go. I would laugh and clap my fat hands at his mockery, ghosting them over the hand-drawn pictures every time Father turned the page. Finally, when we reached the climax, I would turn away in fear.
“I am the dragon,” my father growled in a low, gravely voice. He hissed what I assume he meant to be fire coming out of his mouth. “You have to get past me to get to the princess! If you don’t, I’ll huff and puff and gobble you right up!”
I now hold the same book in my matured hands, dragging the callouses of my fingertips over the smudged pictures, over the fierce serpentine beast. “It is only proper that I return the favor,” I tell myself again and again in this open field. As crown prince, I must expand upon my father’s legacy the same way he did for his father, and his forefathers, and thus the cycle continues. Princess Edeline, my princess, is waiting. I remember this every time I dismount my stallion, every time I stop for a rest during the trek towards my quest.
Never once have I felt unloved by my parents. Mother tried her best to be a role model for the kingdom, the most pristine and the most elegant lady I have ever laid eyes upon. My younger sisters took after her, my younger brothers cared for her, and every other maiden in the land aspired to be her. They wanted her long blonde plait secretly covered with knots, big blue eyes poisoned with belladonna, and seventeen-inch waist. I used to watch my sisters lace themselves up in corsets until they fainted and Mother chastised them for being impatient. While I don’t remember her ever smiling, I do remember her patching my wounds after sparring practice. By the way she caressed my cuts and bruises so gently with her open palm before covering them with gauze wraps, I knew of her love.
Like Mother when Father was my age, Princess Edeline is supposed to be in waiting, young and fair of noble breeding. Untouched by men. But the details of her tower location drove the other men away. One month ago when she turned sixteen her location was released, rumors of a vicious dragon guarding the tower grew. The fierce beasts of lore are no longer a myth.
“Impossible,” Father stated before coughing up his own sick, staining his gray beard with red. “My boy is stronger than something like that. I know my son. He’ll take on any challenge, any rumor. Just you wait and see, he will bring home that princess before anyone else! He will!”
Mother said nothing, but she did the unspeakable. She frowned.
“I must return the favor,” I repeat again, staring down at the leather map I was given by Edeline’s father. With every sun, I come a bit closer to my legacy. With every moon, I feel myself slipping away, wanting more to run back to my kingdom in shame.
Shame is not an option for a crown prince. My fate was sealed before I was born.
All too suddenly, the whispers come back to me. They run along the bark of oak trees, out of the beaks of songbirds, in the mist of waterfalls. At night, they were the twinkling of stars that guided my journey and the calls of nocturnals catching their prey. Prince Xavier, you must find your princess. She cannot wait any longer. This is your legacy, you must tread forth and claim your birthright.
No, shame is not an option. I have no other options.
I flick through the picture book one last time on the back of my white horse. He is starting to pant again and I consider leading him in the direction of running water. But I know the tower is close. My chest tightens around my heart, my gut around my empty stomach. I too am sweating under the blazing sun. Thoughts of who the princess might be haunt me, and my eyes stare upon the picture in the book. The princess in the book is doe-eyed and fair-skinned like Mother, with lips like rubies and eyes like sapphires. Age does not hang over her like a plague. She is pure in every way, loved by many. She is virtue incarnate.
Like every other time I saw her face, I wonder why she never smiled.
After a moment to myself, I look up. My book drops to the ground near my stallion’s hooves.
For a tower guarded by a dragon, I could never imagine the stone fortress to look so abandoned. Ivy litters the entire outside, leaving me to wonder how long Princess Edeline went without being exposed to the outside world. Did she ever touch her feet to grass? Of course not, her skin must stay pale and beautiful, never touching the sun. Did she ever read about our customs and rich history, or even that of her own country? Of course not, her education needed to be determined by her husband. Did she sing, even with nobody to hear her? Of course not, she does not speak unless spoken to, and there is nobody to speak to.
I dismount my steed, preen the mats in my hair, and climb the ivy just like the prince in my book. My muscles strain under my weight, thin roots seizing in my grip causing me to slip. But I must push on. “Princess Edeline,” I call, praying she can hear. If there is no dragon, I should not be afraid. It would not be proper for a crown prince to be afraid. “I am Prince Xavier, crown prince of Novia. I have come to take you from this tower.”
Upon my full arrival inside the tower, the first thing I notice is the distinct lack of sunlight. There are no cracks in the stones indicating the time of day, nor is there an opening in the ceiling to let in the sun. There is a bed that sat messy and unmade against the far end of the room and a large vanity where her cosmetics are strewn about the floor, knocked off by a strong force. Rich rugs muffle my footsteps as I look around the empty tower, eyes focusing on a narrow stairwell partially hidden by a large wardrobe. Before I descend, I unsheathe my silver sword, listening with trained ears for any signs of movement. I ignore the sound of blood to the best of my abilities.
“Princess Edeline,” I call, much softer this time. I wonder if another man has claimed her already. I wonder if my strife was worth the journey. In my last moment of blissful ignorance, I wonder how many other princesses are locked in towers in need of freeing, and how long it would be until I have my chance again.
The prince and princess always end up falling in love.
I now see the shame in that cliche.
I start to call Princess Edeline’s name again, but am halted by a shadow in the room below. I crouch in the cover of the stairwell, praying I am not seen. Is this the dragon from the rumors? Did she eat the princess and take up residence inside the tower? I know from my tightening stomach and frantic heart that I need to avenge my princess, to be the source of her honor after death.
The shadow, in her indistinct shape, catches my gaze. Just faintly in the dim light, I see her red eyes. They are completely bloodshot around a keen, ethereal iris. Pupils blown wide from the dark, her eyes narrow with an anger I do not begin to comprehend. I hold my sword in front of me in a defensive stance, which does not deter the beast in the slightest. She hisses at my attempt.
“Princes like you are worthless,” the dragon growls, her voice like sand and cobblestone. “They wait too long and when they see the result of festering and neglect, they draw back. Your life will be filled with disappointment. Turn back, like everyone else.”
In response, I gulp down the fear that had accumulated for the past month at the back of my throat. “I am Prince Xavier, crown prince of Novia.” I repeat the practiced line like second nature. “I have come to take Princess Edeline from the tower. Show me where she is and I will make your death quick and painless.”
The foul beast has the audacity to question me from the safety of the shadows. “Oh? Would you not kill me either way?” she asked, her words lilting at the end.
I take a deep breath, not once leaving my stance on the stairwell. “Cooperate and I might reconsider.”
As my eyes start to adjust to the dark, I hear the dragon release a single hot breath through her nostrils. She is becoming impatient and possibly hungry. I can just barely see a thin form just up ahead to go along with her burning eyes.
“The princess as you know her is dead,” the dragon hissed, taking a single self-assured step towards me. I push back towards the top of the stairwell where there is undoubtedly more light away from her. “She died many years ago.”
I have failed her and her family. My journey was futile, I muse, dropping my gaze for a second before reinforcing my guard.
“You ate her!” I accuse in a sudden rush of rage. “You killed her and stole her home! Prepare to taste my blade!”
Before I could swing my sword in her general direction, the dragon snaps her sharp tongue at me. “The only one who killed her is you!” she roars, baring her crooked teeth. “You and every other prince like you! You killed her! Like you kill every princess! Every single one! They’re all dead because of you!”
My stance falters and I stumble on the top step, falling backwards and hitting my head on the wardrobe. My sword falls down to the bottom floor, clacking against every step on the way. I sit on the edge of the stairs, keeping my eyes trained on the beast below as it moves into the light. Pale greenish skin like leather bind the form, flaking and hanging at different parts of her body. Her nails curls like claws around her veiny hands, poised to strike. Her head is narrow and sharp like a knife, jagged teeth poking out of her chapped lips. She is skinny, too skinny, too sick like a snake. Malnourished, dehydrated, left without sun all of these years. Those bloodshot eyes stare at me with every ounce of hatred in the world, every particle of betrayal, as I look over her body.
“I’ll ask you one more time… Where is the princess?” I ask in a daze. But I know the answer before she laughs from the bottom of the stairs and I feel her poison breath on me.
“You fool!” she exclaims. “I am the princess!”
