Fictional Just Means More Fun

Did a heart yet to feel love break for the delay? Did it long to beat quickly and struggle to find favour? Was he just a weak mind to want a woman who looked at him in solemnity and understood he was not playing at shyness to charm? Colin was not a natural royal. He was a prince, but he was a prince in a family of princes and princesses. It did not feel like the thing that made him special, since it was merely a bit of lucky inheritance.

He did not want to go against God and divine plans, but he would likely never rule. He did not seem inclined to fight or to serve in the church. He deeply wanted fatherhood. He wanted his children to see a loving couple that had made them to love for themselves. He wanted to bring to life a new version of his parents' story.

The princesses and ladies paraded to be dance partners seemed like they would be equally glad to marry any kind man, provided he was coin-rich and not too emotional. They didn't know what to make of his real confessions that he was not needed in the kingdom with two older brothers and one younger one.

He rode out under the moon, having fought for this right to travel alone. It was about knowing he could manage himself, care for his horse, and navigate the world on his own. And he chose an odd way to go, because he would trust his feelings in this. He would trust his stallion, Biscuit. He would let the moon shine kindly down over him and give safety.

When the singing rose over the breeze, he thought it was a sign of fatigue. He was not tired, but he wondered about himself. He did not feel his legs were cramped, which happened first as his sign he must plan for his camping site for the night. He had to protect himself and his horse from the forest creatures. He was not prepared to deal with sirens peeking through the gaps of trees, singing to draw him in.

But the voice was so high up it might be the moon herself calling him on. He saw something in the next rise. It had the pearly glow of bricks or marble. It might be an illusion from his active imagination. He had read many books about travel and exploration. He had a fascination for the truly unknown.

The tower was so out of place, and the lady at the window was too high to see her. Colin knew two things: It was too high to see her at all to know she was beautiful. He knew she was the most beautiful woman he would ever see. Perhaps she was a little sister to the moon, and was keeping her sister company in the night. He could see no way in, or even much space for servants and protectors for this lady. Biscuit's white hide would glimmer up at her the way her pale skin sparkled at him, and she faltered in her song before continuing with a new note of energy.

Someone must care for her, because her voice rising sadly in a song about a lover far away was too truthful in tone. There was a long, red plait falling from the window and all the way down to the ground. The strange rope was soft and smelled of flowers. It was almost like the cool and sleek locks of a woman who did not pin and imprison her hair.

Colin didn't know where love entered the body. If it was the eyes, he knew he could not call it at first sight because he was too far below. It might enter through the mouth, because his lips were open to sip extra air in his awe. He suspected this love would tingle through his fingertips if he were touching her skin like the bricks of the tower. The song chiming into his ears felt like love slipping past a gentlemanly patience to create a furnace of hurry to meet this woman.

It was improper to not wait to be introduced, but he could not even see a door to leave his card. In this case, he might have to be quite brash and hope to be forgiven.

"I think you are feeling a bit lame," he said to Biscuit, who picked up a front hoof and hopped. "Do you think meeting a sweet lady would help you? I am afraid we are stuck unless we find a solution."

Biscuit's whinny was speculative. Horses famously did not climb to windows. Most windows were not horse sized. But Colin would fit or he would wiggle through. The rope seemed to have footholds and hand loops.

"I don't see another way to go about it," he said. "It's not a very obvious ladder, but it's strong and thick."

He grasped the rope with both hands and bent one leg to put his weight on it before he could nudge his horse back and trust it. He did not feel any danger. Falling was daunting, but he simply would not fall. That moon seemed lucky.

"I think I am a reasonably winning fellow," Colin said, his voice optimistic. "Surely I am one of very few fellows at present nearby, and thus worth my chance?"