Life's a fairytaleThe Princess is the Frog

12. The Princess is the Frog. Choices.

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Life's a fairytaleThe Princess is the Frog

12. The Princess is the Frog. Choices.

As The Princess moved away from the King, she realized if she kept on suffocating the way she was now, she would only be able to make his stay in her kingdom a living hell and make him run for his life quicker than any other Prince before.

(Read the previous story of the Princess is the Frog here)

But if she pushed aside his personal intellectual masturbations from overpowering her own mind and heart, then they could maybe have a chance at cherishing the little time they had together.

It did not take her long to choose the second option. But as she did not take the time to create a light bubble, an easy recipe her Fairy-step mother had taught her long ago to remain in how own energy and not absorb other’s, as she went back to claim her spot into the King’s arms, another mechanism had come to effect: the iron skin had toughened while the ball of fire was nesting inside her chest.

She did not mind the iron skin, she though that if the King did not want to feel any attachment to her, why should she?

She had often used her physical extra-sensibilities to read what she was feeling about others, but now she thought she needed to stop feeling, or else she might get carried away with her emotions.

She had resolved that her mission was for him to recognize what he was truly feeling and for her to stop feeling until then, and with that in mind she fiercely kissed the King.

Of course, absolutely nothing could go wrong with such a well thought-through plan.

La Canourgue - May 2015

From that moment on, they spent a fun-loving, light-spirited weekend, being silly and inappropriate every occasion possible, but dining finely and drinking responsibly. On that last note, the King was indeed Royal and spared no expenses, making the Princess feel… Well… Like a Princess.

When the Princess’ affairs were taking her away from the King, she was concentrated and surprisingly creative. Her mind was not wandering as it often is, and instead produced quick and easy ideas to solve the problems faced before her.

And each time it came for them to meet again, she felt… Slightly scared. And a little sad too, thinking her mission was failing, he had not said a word about his attachment to her and she had trouble hiding her feelings.

How ironical! She thought thinking back on when they had first met and her impressions of him.

However, her conduct remained graceful and natural, facilitated by his kind and thoughtful manners towards her. The King never stopped watching her, being infinitely curious about everything she does and did during their few hours apart. And, most importantly perhaps, never stopped touching her. At all times, there was always a hand, an arm, a kiss, entwining them.

But what she preferred, above everything else, was when they unexpectedly fell asleep in each other’s arms and remained so, unchanged, until it was time for them to both stir simultaneously.

There she felt a powerful contentment. When all her guards where vanished, when his mind was switched off, it seemed as if their bodies did not mind the comfort of the other.

And he may have laughed at them, seeing them as such, but she did not care, she thought it was the most heavenly thing.

And so the five days went by fast but remained etched in other’s spirits. Maybe not for the same reasons or the same moments shared, but I do not believe to be out of line when I say it both marked them.

When he was preparing to leave, they wrapped their arms around each other and the King whispered unto the Princess’ ear: “Don’t wait to see me off.”

Her iron skin fastened tighter.

She had always hated goodbyes. This in-between time when thoughtful and emotional words are expected to be said and heard. She felt that too often, the sentiments expressed while saying goodbye were forced, and too often were real sentiments suppressed.

And so as her lips answered: “Right, now leave”, her heart was filled with both sadness and an urge to see him go.

As instructed, she did not wait, she did not even turn back. She swiftly walked on as soon as she left his embrace and managed to hide from him the one or two tears escaping from her eyes.

La Canourgue - May 2015

She certainly had not expected to feel so wretched for the following fortnight or so.

She was missing the King of course but it felt like a different kind of pain. This was a suffocating pain, overclouding everything she was doing.

It was as if the ball of fire had been kept inside her ribcage and unable to get out of her body because the iron prison that had become her under-skin had remained.

And the fire was raging, raging against its imprisonment. Growing with all the words the Princess hadn’t spoken.

That last letter still hovered over her mind. And until contradicted, she would take it as what the King believed to be true.

Most of the time, she still regarded it to be entirely nonsensical, but she could not say that to him. If she made fun of his fears, what then, he would be another case of a runaway Prince would he not?

And other times, she thought that if he still believed he could not love, then perhaps their attachment, and the time spent together made no sense at all…

To be continued…