A Prince Fatale -- A Noire Fairytale

                Long ago, in a far away kingdom, there had lived a prince and a princess in a large stone castle that had taken up a fourth of the village it ruled over. The prince, whose name was Charles, and the princess, whose name was Katherine, had appeared to the villagers as the perfect rulers, as well as lovers. Outside of the castle, it is as they see. However, Katherine was far from the popular view.

            Ever since Prince Charles and Princess Katherine had first committed to each other, Katherine had treated Charles as she would an undeserving pet. For the longest time, he had endured the treatment of such a title, viewing it as what he had truly deserved, but the pain grew larger as time had passed. Charles truly loved her, but he had never seemed to receive her equal love in return. The victimized prince soon began regretting his choice of such a brutal woman, but he had not one idea of what to do, until the night Katherine had put forth an unimaginable request.

            “Charles,” the princess spoke sharply, “fetch me a pail of water from the river that runs along the grass field.”

            “But, dear Katherine,” Charles said, frightened, “the grass field is the home of the deadly bull. That’s why we have our soldiers fetch it.”

            “Excuses will get you nowhere, boy,” Katherine snapped. “Now, go!” She pointed as Charles sadly walked out of the room.

            “Yes, madam.”

~

            Prince Charles grabbed a pail and a sword, and walked out the chamber door that lead him out on to the grass field. He was fully aware that he would soon face the killer bull, and surely enough, he did, but he was not prepared for an encounter of this type.

            “Why do you bear silver arms, friend?” A deep, calm voice emerges from behind the prince, frightening him and causing him to tumble.

            “Please,” Charles begged, “Please, don’t hurt me!”

            “Have you no manhood, boy?” the bull snapped. “On your feet, for I do not wish to harm you. Rather, I wish to help you, for I have seen the nature of Princess Katherine.”

            The prince gathered his thoughts as he stood up in front of the two-ton beast. “Of what nature are you regarding?”

            “Do not play with me, prince. I am able to aid you; however, you must be willing to allow me to do this my way, and in exchange for 3 tokens.”

            “Explain what I need to do, and what you refer to as ‘your way’.” Charles became intrigued.

            “Lead her out onto this field, and I will end her,” said the bull. “In return, you will retrieve three feathers, one from an owl, and another from a seagull, and a third from a vulture, and bring them back to me.”

            Charles gave a puzzled look. “Why do you require such an odd task?”

            The bull sighed. “I am not truly a bull. You see, a twisted witch had cast a spell upon me, and with only one outlet; to collect the feathers of the three most geographically distant birds in under a single day. An impossible task for a bull, yet not for royalty.”

            “Say no more, friend,” the prince said valiantly. “I shall retrieve the feathers.” Charles grabbed his sword and ran towards the castle. Quickly, he checked on the princess, who was long asleep, and had forgotten about him.

~

            From night to morning, the quest had been executed. The prince had sent a group of horsemen toward the woodland for the owl’s feather, another group towards the coast for the seagull’s feather, and a third group toward the wasteland for the vulture’s feather. The three were gathered and returned within 13 hours. That afternoon, Katherine had awakened to a letter in the crack of the chamber door, stating that the bull had been slain, and the king awaits her in the grass field to discuss the reconstruction of the area.

            The princess eagerly dressed herself and headed out to the grass field, only to realize that nobody was ever there. She began to look around in confusion, when she had suddenly noticed the massive creature standing on fours, staring into her soul from 40 paces. The bull charged, and soon enough, she was trampled by hooves over and over again. The last ingredient to the cure of the bull’s curse: the blood of a cold heart. The evil princess had been ended, and the bull had been shifted back into a human again, and became the prince’s second hand in power.

            The word about the prince’s loss had spread across the land, even among the village, and soon enough, Charles remarried a sweet, young princess, and both had lived happily for the rest of their lives as king and queen.

The End.