This is a land where fairytales have power
She used to demand her nurse tell her stories, fairytales with princesses in them, because she was a princess herself. And her nurse did, because she was the princess, and how could she disobey a princess?
Sometimes she wishes she had not asked, because she never realised it was not a fairy tale when you really are a princess.
Once upon a time, her nurse said. An evil troll-dragon-wizard-giant (father) took the princess away from the people that loved her dearly. Proclamations went out throughout the land, seeking a hero who could rescue the princess from her terrible fate, for the monster meant to devour-marry (rape) her.
Oh nurse, where is my knight? You promised.
Many knights tried and failed, and the people started to despair. Then one day, a knight in shining armour rode up to the castle and proclaimed that he would save the princess, and rode forth to the lair of the beast and did battle.
Sir Griffith had such shining silver hair and he was so very beautiful and polite and his eyes were like the sky. He'll take me away from this horrible-awful place and I'll never see Father again.
But the monster was too strong, too wily-wicked and captured the knight and flung him into the dungeons. There he languished, suffering in the dark. But the knight was handsome and strong and kind, and those whom he had helped came to his aid and freed him. The knight found an enchanted sword-spear-jewel and with it, slew the monster and rescued the princess.
Sir Griffith! I knew you'd come and rescue me! But what is the shadow under your wings?
And they lived happily ever after.
Because if you really are a princess, it is a prophecy.
This is the story the king her father heard when he was a young boy-- he was not to be king then, another was the heir, but nevertheless, he remembers it still.
Once upon a time, his mother had told him, there were the youngest son-the penniless soldier-the village idiot and he left home to seek his fortune rather than starve.
And along the way he met an old witch, and by trickery-force-luck he won a magic tinderbox-ring-stick which would grant him wishes.
And with it, he won the princess' hand in marriage and ruled the kingdom.
never-no, i will not permit it, my beautiful daughter, how dare you touch her, mine-mine-mine, my-daughter, you dared, her white-breasts-white-thighs mine, forever-mine, my throne, you dared to taste what is not yours, i will bring you down and cut out that lying tongue of yours and crush those thieving fingers and cut out your eyes-mouth-nose-ears and you will weep and beg for mercy.
Did he truly think that the king in this story would step aside? Let a commoner lay hands on his daughter, his wealth, his kingdom, his power? Did he think that merely wearing shining armour would blind the king to his thieving common blood?
Fool. Fairytales are lies.
This is the dream a common man may dream -- the youngest, poorest, hungriest of the family, with nothing to his name, not even the clothes on his back.
He meets-overhears-spies upon a witch and by guile-cunning-luck takes her enchanted item with which he wins himself the princess, the kingdom, the crown.
/Fairytales leave so much out/.