Her head up in the shooting stars, the Princess travelled back to her Kingdom. She had had tidings that the affairs of her palace were not going well.

Precisely they were going very, very much awry.

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

And so as soon as she arrived, she found this to be true. It was such a state of affairs that she decided to turn her heals to it and find a new palace. And this time with a difference set of people running it.

And on that note, her landing back in her kingdom, although she still loved it very much, proved to be the beginning of a very trying week. It seemed everyday something went from wrong to worse. She was bewildered that all her problems came from material things. Things she usually had a very tight grasp on.

In a desperate call for help to her Fairy step-mother she received an answer she was even more shocked to read: “You just have never been used to being this happy. Your head is still up there with the stars. All you have to do is find your balance.”

The Princess had nothing to reply to that. Because in all fairness, it was probably true. It was tough to remember a moment when there wasn’t hardship or something stained with sadness. Although she had, most of the time, seen Hope, it was, as the definition of the word, before any lovely thing came to be true. Now she was in front of the lovely things, diving head deep into all of it, her still very enjoyable and exciting responsibilities, her family, and the appearance of the King.

And so, ironically, she did not know how to handle it all.

But little by little, she managed to get a hold of things, went on to live in another Palace, more glorious, entwining the ancient and the modern, perfect for her tastes and delicate sensitivities, and all other things slowly fell into place.

And now that the things invading her brain were solved in but a few weeks, she had to feel that something was wrong elsewhere. Her sentimental correspondence with the King was not faltering. And yet, for some inexplicable reason. She felt something may go sour if she didn’t pay attention. As that familiar chocking feeling in her ribcage surfaced again, she found the root of the presentiment. And indeed it did lay with the King.

His heart, he was unsure of. His motives, he questioned. And his capacity to love another, he doubted.

As she read the words. She felt a rush of cold washing over her body. That imaginary liquid slowly turned to ice, freezing her, and then quickly shifted into steal, sheltering herself. Inside of her, it was all calm, she profoundly believed this was not an attack against her. She was quite certain it had nothing to do with her at all actually. But that was the problem. If she was just as his other past conquests, unable to move him, then their story should not have even begun.

And that made her angry.

She also received that unwelcomed letter at the untimely moment of his arrival in her kingdom. It had been set that he should come and visit but for a few days, and he choose to lay his fears on her precisely a few hours before he himself arrived.

And so she begged for a sign. If he was doubting them so much, was there any point in spending this time together? Or would it simply be a waste of energy on her side? Or was it worth it? Was this solely a little shadow over-clouding his judgement that would disappear in no time?

Should she hang on or let go?

As she was engrossed in the inner workings of her brain, and deliberating the best way to make a choice here, the weather was having its own way. There was a distinct bright golden glow on one side of her as her carriage was making her way forward, and an immense dark rain cloud on the other. It’s so pretty she thought, because the dark is so dark, the light is that much more golden in comparison, what a pretty sight indeed.

And then the carriage turned.

And she was faced with a rainbow.

Ok, she almost said out loud, I’ll give him a go then.

But even a polychromatic arch formed by a perfectly logical scientific explanation, could not help her from feeling less joy than she had expected to feel in seeing him again. Quite a substantial bit less, indeed. Her skin had kept its iron protection, and she was determined not to let anything hurt her. But just as she had once swallowed that ball of fire, her charms and happy conversations remained. She, unlike him she thought, was trying her best not to ruin this precious time together. She gaily showed him her kingdom and her new palace and all the little things she loved here. Sometimes she felt she had to swallow back her fire, or to toughen the iron, but showed no external signs of it until…

Night time fell upon her kingdom. And the King, with his usual warmth, took the Princess in his arms, and for the longest time, kissed her.

She felt like a war was raging inside of her. Should she listen to reason and remember the cold words he had last written to her, or should she close her eyes and only see with her heart, what the King’s very own, beating against hers, was saying. She did not know what side to choose. She wanted to let herself feel everything, and be guided by the sensations washing over her. But she was scared. She believed a war was also raging inside the King’s head and it did not calm her.

Wether it was because she hated what was happening inside of him, that he was unable to see with his heart and speak from it, or because she was more than a little bit afraid of her own heart, her frustration let three, or four tears glide down her cheeks.

His embrace suddenly became suffocating, her head ached, her body felt nothing.

She did not know where the solutions lurked.

And so the Princess moved aside from the King and pondered. Like a pondering thing in a pond.

To be continued…