| A Modern Fairy Tale|
thehonestandmoralone
Charlee twisted her fingers incessantly as the car drew closer to its destination. She was positively affright with nerves, and so many questions whirled around in her head. Would the prince like her? Would the people? Was he kind? Was he handsome?
That last one was kind of frivolous in the grand scheme; the manâs attractiveness had no bearing on the situation at hand. But she hoped he was at least average looking, and not covered in zits, or hair, or obscenely fat if she had to have sex with him from time to time.
âStop that. Itâs unbecoming.â
Charlee looked up at one of her hand-maidens, though far from a maiden at her age. She was more of a hand-marm. But Louise had been with her since birth, or at least as long as Charlee could remember, and she had been in trusted to look over her with the other handful of servants and bodyguards bound to accompany her on this journey and help her on this transition from fledgling princess to wife and future queen. It all still sounded like a dream to her. Or perhaps a nightmare.
âYour Grace, look! Itâs so lovely!â
The young princess looked out the window at the sprawling green grounds of her new home. The castle she would live in towering like a beacon of white stones with its banners in the breeze in the distance contrasting with the emerald.
âYou donât have to call me âYour Graceâ when weâre in private Gwen.â
âAbsurd!â Louise announced immediately, her pointy nose crinkled in disgust. âYou are a princess. And one who will one day be a queen. You are no longer expected to be in the background. You must be front and center and ready at all times. So this foolishness of you commiserating with your staff ends here. And you! Do not yell. It is unbecoming.â
The younger girls both mutter âyes maâmâs at the woman, and go back to sight-seeing out the window in silence as the castle came closer, questions still buzzing around in Charleeâs mind.
The loudest and most insistent being: Would she be happy here?












