Chapter Three: In which we meet a heroine.

While Ralph the Timid was boldly making his way down through the mountains to find his purpose, something very suspicious was happening elsewhere in Ablet. Down on the coast, where the waves of the Saltwater Sea lapped gently against the Western Shores (the founding fathers of Ablet had favoured very functional names), some one was climbing out of the window of the spring palace of the royal house of Erd.

This was not as dangerous as it may sound. The word palace tends to conjure up an epic picture - one of omnipotent power combined with extreme beauty, all sky scraping spires and turrets, old stone covered with ivy, ornately designed with gates which could stop a marauder in his tracks both with brutal solidness and with admiration for the exquisite workmanship which created such lovely things. The palace would, perhaps, be filled with gold, have a hall completely lined with mirrors, and either be situated forebodingly atop a cliff or elegantly resting among acres of perfectly groomed gardens, depending on whether the lord residing there was Dark or not. In either case (though perhaps more in the case of a palace perching on a clifftop) climbing out of window seems somewhat foolhardy and unnecessary.

However, the spring palace of the royal house of Erd did not live up to its name. Perhaps it was because the Erds, while still very regal and nominally in charge of large tracts of the sea coast, were no longer the ruling house. There was really no longer any one King of Ablet, which made life much easier for the girls of the Eastern Mountains - there were lots more princes to go around. Similarly, there were lots of princesses ready to be saved from peril whenever the occasion should call for it. Or perhaps it was because a long time ago, the then King or Prince Erd had been a man of simple tastes. Whichever it was, the spring palace of the royal house of Erd was a simple, two storey stone building with a thatched roof. It resembled very much the cottage from whence Ralph the Timid had set out - albeit much, much larger. It did have, it must be admitted, approximately 130 rooms. Rethatching it after the spring gales took a very, very, very long time.

It was situated in an unusually large cottage garden - which made the whole building look even more like a bizarrely oversized cottage - and it was from one of the first storey windows that the someone was climbing into a large patch of herbs. This someone was, in fact, the daughter of the current head of the house of Erd. She was, therefore, a princess.

There are in this world certain types of princesses. There is the so-called "spoilt princess" who must have everything her own way. These princesses have two characteristics - over indulgent parents and, usually, not actually being a princess at all. Then there are what one might call 'fairytale princesses'. These beauties swan about being beautiful and marrying frogs or being saved from dragons. The third type is commonly called the "post-modern" princess. These ladies are styled to turn all those fairy tale stereotypes on their head. They're either fiesty, unlike those wilting, swooning sissies, or they're lacking in the beauty of their traditional sisters. Or sometimes both. Usually, one would expect it would be this third type of princess one would find climbing out the palace window.

Usually one would be right. And failing that, it would be some spoiled brat who hadn't managed to get her own way for once, and was quietly leaving, while shouting that "it would serve daddy right!" in a most exclamatory manner. But as this girl was, in fact, actually a princess, that rules that possibility right out. So in fact, the princess climbing out of the window was a fairytale princess in every other way that you would expect.
She had a fairytale princess name - Antoinetta Bernadetta Clarissa Drusilla Eleanora Georgetta Henrietta Isabella Juanita Katherina Lolita Marguerita Nerissa Octavia Petunia Quintessa Roberta Suzetta Tabitha Ursula Venitia Wilhelmina Xenia Zelda of Erd- but went merely by the name of Lady Ann, because the rest was too long and cumbersome to say all at once.
She had a fairytale princess appearance - her hair was golden blonde and long and delicately wavy, her eyes were clear and wide and blue as the sky, her skin was flawless, as was her figure, and her complexion was the envy of princesses for miles around.
She was dressed like a fairy tale princess, too - her dress was made of a long, rich, blue and gold brocade, and she had sleeves that fell gracefully about her wrists and then trailed to the floor.
She was, usually, all that a fairytale princess should be.

Unfortunately for Lady Ann, at this moment one of her sleeves, which customarily made her gliding about the palace look so extraordinarily magical, were currently caught in the window. She gave an inelegant tug and with the sound of tearing fabric, sat down hard in the herbs.
Half of her left sleeve remained hooked on the window frame. She looked at it with as much dislike as someone who has never felt a feeling of dislike could muster.

It was a tough day for Lady Ann. As a girl born in on the first day autumn in the year of the flying pig, she had always had a great love of stories. Last night she had been enthralled by the tales of her latest suitor, Prince Rupert of Xanadu. Prince Rupert, it seemed, had gone through great peril to get to her, and she was suitably flattered - although, since even fairy tale princesses are sensible, she thought he might have found it easier if he had come the most direct route. By the road probably would have been the most convienient, rather than through dangerous wastes where ogres and dragons were known to lurk. Nevertheless, princes liked to do these things, she had noticed. And his stories had been really most exciting. She'd really wanted to have an adventure herself. Just a little one. No dragons or anything like that.

And so it came to pass that Lady Ann decided to climb out the window the following morning. It really wasn't much of an adventure, but fairy tale princesses aren't noted for their imagination, and Lady Ann had decided on climbing out the window as easy, close to home, and relatively safe. Sitting in the herbs looking up at her sleeve, she was just deciding that really, adventures weren't really that fun, and she wouldn't try and have another any time soon, when something happened that took that decision out of her hands.

[Word count : 3177]