Author’s note: This is first installment of a Twisted Fairytale from my fifth short-story compilation, Ugly: Twisted fairytales. It is a spinoff of the old Grimm’s tale, The Sleeping Beauty.
Even now Rese is risking his life yet again, standing outside the castle grounds with me without the army. I had proposed to come alone but Reese wouldn’t hear of it. The dragon’s smoke is thicker here. I survey the scene quietly, trying to hide my emotions. Of course, I am having second thoughts. Reese’s face is a kaleidoscope of emotions, and I wonder what he is thinking when he finally speaks, “Your Majesty! This whole thing is an exercise in futility.”
“Are you questioning my plan?”
“No! I think the plan is excellent. Since there is no way to kill the dragon, there is no point bringing all the men to the castle. Their noise would inform the dragon of our presence, and its fire can melt their armour easily. So why risk their lives? Only you need to kiss the princess to wake her up while I watch your back. What I am questioning is the worth of this quest—the folklore is at least a century old, which means that the princess is either already dead of old age or at least 116 years old. Do you think, you would like to kiss someone who is the age of your great‑grandmother?”
It is nice to see his sense of humour returning. Smiling, I counter, “You are forgetting the last part of the folklore—that the princess is sixteen and she’ll wake with a prince’s kiss. Since the part of the lore about the dragon and silver castle is true, she must still be alive and young enough to be kissed.”
Reese’s face falls for a second but he persists, “Come on! She may not even be beautiful. I mean, these folklores tend to exaggerate things. She could be any commonplace princess who was glorified in stories. Not to forget, she has been sleeping for a hundred years—she could be smelly and drooling over herself; her hair and dress could be in cobwebs. She may not even be your true love, you know.”
He is trying hard to sound objective, but I hear the tiniest hint of jealousy. Who is he jealous of? It’s not like I am going to come out of it a hero. I am just a sacrificial lamb. Gah! These princesses have it so easy. They just have to wait in their castle for their true love to arrive while princes die fighting dragons.
Honestly, Reese is reflecting the same thoughts that I have had since the beginning of the quest. But why now—after two years? Not that it changes anything.
“Father’s orders were clear enough—I have to marry her or die trying.”
“He is just trying to get rid of you—sending you on a quest that could mean a lifetime of search and failure. He didn’t even know if the princess existed. It was just an easy way to exile you.”
Is Reese reading my mind? And where is his loyalty to the king? “Reese! You are overstepping.”
“Please don’t try to shut me out. I have maintained my silence so far. But this may be the last day of our lives—our last day together. You know I’d walk on hot coals for you. You can at least hear me. Your father makes no secret that he detests your decision to stay a celibate. But you are his eldest son and the heir to the throne by birthright. So, he just wants you out of the way for an excuse to hand over the kingdom to one of your younger brothers.”
Though I had known it forever, the truth cut deeply, “I don’t care about the throne anyway.”
“True, but that doesn’t change the fact that your parents have sent you here to die. Dying for them won’t make them love you.”
“You are crossing the line!”
“I care for you. I don’t want you to die for someone who doesn’t love you alive.”
“Silence, Squire! We are going in now.”
*****
We have hidden the bulky armour outside the castle walls since it makes a lot of noise and dragon fire can melt armour anyway. Together, we scale the walls easily—there are too many footholds in the stones cracking by exposure to the elements—and enter undetected in the castle backyard.
A massive dragon sleeps fretfully at a distance in front of the main gate. A cloud of smoke rises from its nostrils. It looks weak from hunger—skin stretched over bones—after a century of imprisonment in this forsaken place. No wonder it is irritable and inhospitable to any armies that venture in.
The massive wooden gates on the door leading to the hall are hanging open on their hinges, but we enter through a broken window on the side wall, giving the dragon a wide berth. The place reeks of death. Walls are charred in places and broken human bones litter the place. The castle feels haunted. The hallways glimmer eerily in the low light wherever the metal armour of countless soldiers has melted and become one with the stone path. We avoid stepping on it for the fear of making a noise. We take a torch from a metal bracket and light it up with a flint—it will take all night.
Author’s note: To be continued…
If you would rather read it all together in the book, Ugly: Twisted fairytales is available for free download here: Link
Photo by Sean Thomas on Unsplash
Short Stories 