As Prince Charmaine gazed at his reflection in the mirror, he found it hard to concentrate on anything but himself. The old ladies were blathering about something or another, but all he wanted to do was stare at the handsome visage that stared back at him.
“It‘s hard to think of her as a princess,” one of the old ladies said. “She’s very-down-to-earth… maybe even a bit of a tomboy. She likes to play with bugs, and she practices archery.”
Charmaine yawned. He watched his reflection in the mirror as it yawned, momentarily awed by the sight of his perfect white teeth. He ran the tip of his finger along his blonde eyebrow, watching himself trace the impeccable arch. “But is she pretty?”
Another old women spoke, failing to acknowledge his question. “She’s yet to find out about her lineage… that is to say, she doesn’t know she’s a princess, nor does she know the circumstances of her birth or the terrible curse that was put upon her. We wanted to protect her, so we thought it best not to tell her.”
“But is she pretty?”
The last woman spoke. “She’s such a sweet girl. When we took her from the castle and raised her as our own, we didn’t know what to expect, but…” She raised a handkerchief, dabbing the corner of her eye before any tears could escape. “I think I speak for all of us when I say we love her as our own.”
“That’s nice, but it she pretty?”
Meg, Molly and Mary exchanged uneasy glances. When they encouraged Prince Charmaine to inquire about his future bride, they had hoped his questions would be a little less superficial.
Meg threw up her meaty hands in defeat. “Yes, of course she’s pretty! I challenge you to find a prettier girl in the entire kingdom of Avalon.”
“Well, that’s nice to know.” Before he lowered the mirror, Charmaine winked at himself.
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