by Patti Larsen
Despair rises in her heart. How will her Prince notice her all the way down here? And there he sits, dressed in his lovely new clothes with the gryphon's pelt wrapped around him. She can hear some of what is said, how his hangers on admire his appearance, how beautiful they tell him he is.
And he is. The warrioress sinks into her own seat, hands smoothing over the faded fabric of her gown.
Dinner is ashes in her mouth, but she forces herself to chew, swallow, drink the slightly stale water she is served with the lumpy stew while she watches her Prince and his followers eat the finest beef and drink the most sparkling of wines.
As she rises to go at last, not waiting for dessert, she notices two ladies she's seen earlier at the gardens. They had just been sitting with the Prince, talking and laughing with him. And now they are smiling at her.
“Come,” one says, taking her hand. “His Highness would like to speak to you.”
“Yes,” the other giggles. “But in private.”
She laughs with them, hope soaring. Of course. He wants to thank her in person.
Excitement wins the day and she finds herself swept along by the song in her heart.
***
How? How could I make him notice me when I was obviously so ugly and he was so beautiful? I tried dressing provocatively a few times, but only had myself briefly labeled a slut for my efforts.
My heart broke every time I looked at him. I only wanted to be near him, to hear him say my name, laugh with me, not at me, gaze into my eyes and tell me he felt what I did but never had the courage to admit it.
My luck changed one glorious day when, miracle of miracles, I made some cool friends in drama club. Imagine! But they could do nothing for me, to bring me closer to him, and finally my need and my weirdness drove them away as well. They didn't understand the fantasy world I'd built, slowly consuming me, the creations I'd made around him.
In this, my weirdness was cemented for the remainder of my school life. Cool kids had seen inside my private world and now I had nowhere to hide.
Let me be perfectly clear. I blame myself for all of this, or at least the hormone-laden girl I was who had no idea she practically stalked the poor boy, though I swear I never once went to his house.
Had his address, though. Just in case.
Because, who knew, right?
And then, one day as I sat in the very public lobby of my school, directly across from him as I always did so I could watch him at all times, I was approached by two girls who were known to be his friends.
Ah, folly, thy name is young love.
***
She is waiting for him, pacing nervously, trying to think of something to say. His chambers are so beautiful, full of things that make her feel like she doesn’t belong, but she does her best to treat the invitation like an opportunity to have more, be more.
Her lonely days will soon be over and her poor, tired horse can finally rest.
Unlike her heart, which refuses to stop pounding her love for Prince Nameless.
***
The girls who approached me that day were mean girls, though I had no idea at the time what the term meant and I'd certainly never, in my naiveté, thought of them in such a way. They were simply border liners, the class between where I was and where the cool kids were, slipping back and forth over the invisible barrier. I envied them in a way. At least if I'd been one of the middle ground kids I would have been closer to him.
Turned out, it was what they wanted, too. Or at least I thought so as they came to me, out there in the open, and asked if I wanted to be his girlfriend.
A silly question. Of course I did.
Only then did they drop their bomb of delight. He'd sent them, messengers of the god I worshiped with all my heart, to ask me. To include me, draw me in, bring me across the line and make me not only his, but one of the cool kids, forevermore.
Amen.
I have no idea how I managed to play it so cool, to keep my exterior calm while my innards did back flips and excited gyrations. I calmly nodded to their proposal, accepting it with the aplomb of the Queen of School I was about to become. While my friends congratulated me on my coup, the cruel pair, giggling and whispering to themselves, left me there to plan my future while they crossed the seemingly endless expanse of the lobby to tell my true love his fair maiden had said yes.
And then.
The tragedy.
They reached him as I watched, bent to whisper in his ear the answer I'd sent back. I felt myself smiling, half-standing, ready to go to him even as he jerked away from them both, leaping to his feet, a huge scowl on his face as his horrified eyes met mine as he shouted for the entire school to hear:
“NO!”
***
The Prince sweeps into his chambers, instantly furious to find her there. She is shocked and hurt as he laughs in her face, tells her no matter what she does he will never love her, and, in fact, “I think the very idea quite ridiculous.”
She begs, she weeps, falls to her knees until she has to be pulled bodily up by his guards as the Prince sneers in her face and orders her out.
The guards carry her to where her old clothing lies, wait for her to change, still sobbing, back into her warrior's apparel, force her to mount her weary steed and drive her out of the city while everyone laughs and points and makes mockery of her.
And there, as she passes, her head down, sad face streaked with tears, are the two ladies who'd duped her, and it is they who laugh the loudest.
***
The whole world stopped for a moment. And for a long time I wished it remained that way because the instant time started up again, my utter humiliation was complete.
They'd all heard his rejection. Of course they had. How could anyone miss that one single word of utter denial? I found myself running, retreating from the lobby and into the large area where the school lockers were housed, hiding in the maze of yellow tin doors while the sound of laughter, either real or imagined, chased after me.
***
She can barely see the road ahead of her, not paying attention at all. Her horse, a smart old boy, knows enough to carry her safely while she mourns her broken heart.
The sound of pounding hooves approaching barely breaks through her grief. But the young squire who pulls his horse up beside her, face panicked and out of breath, finally does the trick.
As does his string of words.
“His Highness!” The boy pants. “He begs you, warrioress, to return and save him!”
Save him? “From what, pray tell?”
“The dragon.” The boy shudders, eyes going to the sky. “Shortly after you left, it swooped down and kidnapped him, taking him away from us. His final words were to call for you!”
Her tears stop instantly. He needs her! His last command was to find her and have her save him. He does love her after all.
Heart renewed, she spins her faithful steed and goes in search of the dragon.
***
I ran from my friends, from the realization of what just happened, how I'd been used by those girls, duped for no reason but their own amusement. Cruelty wasn't a common experience for me, relegated to antagonists in books and movies. The sting was sharp, the cut deep and all I could do was flee.
But he, he had nothing to do with it. I clung to my need to believe. He would come find me, talk to me. Apologize. Make those girls apologize. And everything would be okay.
It would. And he would finally see me for who I was.
***
The warrioress rides into the clearing ready for battle, only to find the Prince alone, trapped inside a cage of bone and chain.
“Come!” He calls out, the gryphon's pelt in tatters from the dragon's claws, his perfect clothing torn and filthy. “Save your Prince and you may have whatever your heart desires.”
“I want you to love me.” All of her hope and need well up at the sight of him so badly done by. “To marry me and make me your Princess.”
What is the look on
his face, in his eyes? No matter, it is gone as quickly as it appeared and he is smiling at her, though his perfect teeth aren’t showing and he seems to be in some kind of discomfort. The dragon must have hurt him.
“Of course,” he says, eyes going skyward nervously. “Anything you wish. Just free me and slay that dragon!”
“I will save you, my love.” She jumps down from her horse, striding toward the Prince, her sword out, ready to attack the cage holding him.
A great wind buffets her, knocking her back ward as the dragon swoops down, two sobbing women in his claws, the back sweep of his wings creating a powerful gale.
“Save us!” She knows the ladies, the very same two who engineered her humiliation. “Please, we beg you!”
“Well now,” the dragon says in a voice like rolling thunder. “Who are you really here to save?”
***
I found my locker, pretended to focus on the contents, not wanting anyone to see me, to look at me, wishing I was tiny enough to climb inside the tin can and close the door behind me.
All the while I hoped he'd followed, that he would find me and rescue me.
To my shock and growing amazement, he appeared at the end of the row, for the first time since we'd met really looking at me, focused on me, not trying to ignore or avoid me.
This was it. He held my heart in his hands.
And with a handful of words, he shattered it into a million pieces. Words like ‘never’ and ‘weirdo’ and ‘gross’. Hurtful, harmful, dangerous words to say to someone. Especially to someone like me.
While my entire being rang with what he'd said, he stormed off like it was all my fault in his prissy boy fit because some girl had the nerve to love his arrogant ass while the shards of what had been my adoration sharpened into razor edges.
***
“I must kill you,” she says to the towering dragon who tilts his great head to the side, two thin columns of smoke drifting from his nostrils. “The Prince has said he will marry me, love me, if I free him and slay you.”
The dragon nods slowly, settling to the ground, the two ladies still clutched in his claws. One golden eye comes level with the warrioress as the dragon speaks.
“I have heard you killed the giant,” he said, “and in doing so destroyed your own strength.”
She flinches. What had the giant said about the Prince's fear? Her love’s eyes are full of it even as the dragon goes on.
“And the gryphon,” the dragon goes on, “for his hide. But in that you have only shown your own loss of self-esteem and confidence. Where has the mighty warrioress gone?”
Again she twitches as though a blow has landed, her gaze falling on the former lady-like perfection of the two handmaidens and how ugly they now seem.
“You are now conscious of your lack,” the Dragon says. “Though until now you were perfect exactly as you were.”
She can’t listen. She has to finish the beast so she can have her true love. But the Dragon isn’t done.
“If you slay me,” he says, “and I won't stop you if that is the choice you make, you destroy the last part of your spirit to remain yours and yours alone. The final fragment of your power will be gone and you will have what you wish, in the end. You will be like him.” He gestures with his muzzle at the Prince. “And like these.” He shakes the two weeping women in his grip. “So, if that is what you choose, then act. But be prepared for the consequences.”
“Or?” She feels the sword in her hand, knows the Dragon speaks the truth.
“Or.” He chuffs out a little smoke, one eye winking, “go find the Prince who loves you for who you are.”
***
It still amazes me, how quickly my obsessive love turned to hate to the sound of a young heart breaking. I hated him so much from that moment on I didn't look back. It was as if he never existed, the fantasies I'd created around him lost, gone forever without a trace they'd lived.
So odd. I never thought of him again, not that way, and even the hate I felt dissipated quickly, gone like smoke in a breeze. In fact, I found out years later he moved before we finished high school and I never knew.
Or cared.
But the moment went on and on, defining me in my eyes and how I felt about myself. Not good enough, ugly, gross, always doing the wrong thing, saying the inappropriate, wearing the wrong clothes, too much makeup…
I was no longer a teen when I found out none of what I believed really mattered, that I actually was okay being me. How the social awkwardness came from trying to fit in and when I stopped, it stopped. Or became endearing to those who really loved me.
I don't blame Nameless for any of this. We were kids and, in fact, I thank him in a way for the years of struggle to come after. Because of his rejection I gave up on my need to be one of the cool kind and accepted the fact I could never be. I honed my creativity and lost myself in books and writing again.
It took a while, but I found my Prince Charming. And I love how my life turned out, knowing now being me was the very best gift anyone could every give me.
So thanks, Nameless. No hard feelings. No resentment. No turning you into a character in a book just to kill you off so I feel better.
Promise.
***
Her horse seems less tired to her, eager again to move on as she finds herself smiling at what the future might bring.
Behind her, screams fading in the distance, the Dragon enjoys his very tasty meal.
###
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About the Author
Everything you need to know about me is in this one statement: I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was a little girl, and now I’m doing it. How cool is that, being able to follow your dream and make it reality? I’ve tried everything from university to college, graduating the second with a journalism diploma (I sucked at telling real stories), was in an all-girl improv troupe for five glorious years (if you’ve never tried it, I highly recommend making things up as you go along as often as possible). I’ve even been in a Celtic girl band (some of our stuff is on YouTube!) and was an independent film maker. My life has been one creative thing after another—all leading me here, to writing books for a living.
Now with multiple series in happy publication, I live on beautiful and magical Prince Edward Island (I know you’ve heard of Anne of Green Gables) with my very patient husband and six massive cats.
I love-love-love hearing from you! You can reach me (and I promise I’ll message back) at [email protected]. And if you’re eager for your next dose of Patti Larsen books (usually about one release a month) come join my mailing list! All the best up and coming, giveaways, contests and, of course, my observations on the world (aren’t you just dying to know what I think about everything?) all in one place: http://smarturl.it/PattiLarsenEmail.
Last—but not least!—I hope you enjoyed what you read! Your happiness is my happiness. And I’d love to hear just what you thought. A review where you found this book would mean the world to me—reviews feed writers more than you will ever know. So, loved it (or not so much), your honest review would make my day. Thank you!