From a princess’ diary

Once upon a time there was a princess who lived in a small kingdom. She was the only child so naturally her parents trained her to be the heir to the throne. The years flew by she underwent a series of ‘princess lessons’. At the end of her training period she had to marry a prince.

The princess had a habit which only her closest friend, her chamber maid, knew. She used to dress in one of her friend’s attires and sneak out of the castle with her maid. This was tricky at first but the guards mistook her for yet another servant. They used to spend some mornings and afternoons at the lake and meadows, basking in the sun and enjoying the untarnished beauty.

One day while the princess was seated under the shade of a cinnamon tree she looked up to see a stranger in the distance. She relaxed once she realized that it is a pheasant who had come to let his sheep gaze in the field. Such sights were natural. However she soon saw that it was a youngman in place of the two old pheasants who normally came with their sheep and cattle.

The youngman was watching her from afar but strangely she felt no fear. Only curiosity. She did not budge when he made his way up to her and began to talk.

“I could not help noticing you. Are you new there?”

“I live in the castle. I am one of the princess‘ attendants…”

Their conversation went on from there. Each day they met and talked for hours. Sensing that her mistress wished to be alone with the youth her maid kept her distance. She knew what was happening and so did they.

The princess knew that she could not carry on her act any longer. She had to reveal herself to him. He was startled to discover that the simple village lass was actually the king’s daughter. A marriage between a pheasant and a princess could never be. It was treason to even think of such a thing. His father had died when he was young and he had a mother, younger brothers and sisters to feed. There was no way out of the web. Both were helpless - faced with two choices. To make their loved ones suffer or sacrifice their love.

It was a painful ending to a sacred bond. Both took an oath never to see each other again. It was an immortal sacrifice which burnt their hearts to ashes. Nothing was the same hereafter.

The princess married a prince whom her parents chose. He was from a respectable kingdom, had immense wealth and knowledge. He enjoyed throwing banquets and horse riding.

“He seems kind and my parents are happy with him. It is for the best. I will try to be a good wife to him,” the princess thought.

The marriage took place and they lived happily every after… or did they?

A few days after the marriage the prince addressed his wife.

“My dear, it would be lovely if you can set your hair in a chignon. I will send Mr Long to you. He does the Duchess’ hair for her. She looked so elegant at the ball yesterday.”

The princess preferred her hair set in loose curls but to please her husband she let the hairdresser do his job.

“You know you really must learn to play the violin. Once that is completed you can move onto the harp. The Earl’s wife can master it beautifully.”

She already knew how to play the piano but she knew that her husband had perfected the mandolin and xylophone. It must be natural that he wants his wife to be musically talented too.

Matters did not end there.

“You should come riding with us, my dear. It will do you some good. Join us this afternoon.”

She had been hoping to go to the theatre that day but she joined his party instead. They rode through the forest and two of the men even shot a deer. She shuddered when she saw the corpse. She knew that she would have rather been in the theatre. The next day she was having a breakfast when she noticed the prince studying her critically.

“You know the off the shoulder gowns would suite you well… if you lose some weight. Give it some thought,” he said. The he plucked a toast from the plate and began buttering it busily.

Long after he had left she stood staring at herself in front of her mirror. She had changed a lot in the past few weeks. She wore her hair up, it had a hint of amber in it because he had insisted that the colour suited her, her long fingers now handled the bow of the violin, she spoke English rather than her mother tongue most of the time according to his wishes and she went riding in the afternoons. She did not know whether to laugh or cry. The pheasant loves her for who she is. The prince tries to turn her into the image he loves.

Shehara - [email protected]