Life as a princess is hard. It’s even harder when you have to relive your story day after day. I’m not talking “happily ever after”; I’m talking “happily ten seconds” before it starts all over. Locked in a tower, people yanking on my hair, only to be trapped in a marriage with a prince I hardly know. Repeat.
Well, not anymore.
Taking the bread-knife from my plate, I hack off my long braid, tying it to the window hook before the prince comes.
I’m done with this outdated story. Time to write my own.
I climb down, disappearing into the night.