Once upon a time, long ago and in a land far away, there lived a princess who spent her days and nights trapped in a tall tower. In her tower there was one window, which overlooked the beautiful village over the mountain. Every morning when the princess awoke, she would watch the sun rise over the village, where every building looked like a tiny toy. And every morning, the princess would look out of her window and whisper, like a hopeful prayer, “I wish my prince would come!”
But the sun rose, and then set, exactly one thousand times. And her prince did not yet come.
Then, on the one thousand and first morning, just as the first streaks of daylight reached the sky, the princess heard a strange noise. She whirled around, her golden hair smacking her cheek. “Over here, princess!”
She turned again. The voice was coming from her window! And, in her window, she discovered a face made out of angel parts, undoubtedly connected to a body of the same. “Who…who are you?”
The window-face laughed. “Why, I’m your prince! I’m here to rescue you – everybody knows that!”
This was good enough for the princess. She lept into the prince’s arms and the two kissed passionately. Then, the prince carried her down from the tower, and they rode into the kingdom atop his white steed. The princess beamed as the morning sunlight hit her face, for she knew her wish had come true.
The royal wedding was a beautiful affair, with all of the kingdom dancing and making merry. But all was not as it had seemed. At the wedding feast, the princess couldn’t help but notice that her beloved chewed with his mouth open, and only talked about himself in his speeches. The prince found that his bride was impatient and had a laugh like a braying donkey, not the tinkling glass that would befit a new queen.
When they strolled through the imperial gardens, she went out of her way to crush bugs underfoot. He never held doors and always insisted on being the first. They were miserable together, of course, but neither could do anything about that. The king needed a queen to produce an heir to the throne; the queen couldn’t have left if she wanted to. (As has been told, this all happened long, long ago…)
And so they lived, and died, and were replaced by a new set of monarchs who followed suite. But the sun still rose and the kingdom was still beautiful, until everyone in it died and it was forgotten, too. Sometimes that is how things go.