Lying with her hand supporting her head on the tower window, Fiona was once again bored, staring at the black sky above the castle that never seemed to clear.
Since she was seven years old, she had been trapped in that tower, hidden away from everything and everyone.
No friends, no family, no one… just her and that black tower, and the final sounds of knights who occasionally arrived—always bringing her a bit of hope before they burned along with her dreams.
But she never gave up. Always waiting… and waiting… and waiting.
She knew that somewhere out there, he was waiting. Her champion, her prince, her true love.
"I know you're out there, I just ask... please come soon," she murmured with her hand against her cheek, eyes sad.
She no longer cried, nor screamed in rage like she used to as a child. Now she just waited calmly, as the days, months, and years went by.
Sighing, she began thinking about what she would eat today and got ready to go downstairs to fetch something from the carriage.
For generations, each month, her family sent a carriage with food, water, books, makeup, and even gold coins if the kingdom's finances were doing well, to the foot of the mountain.
Though strange, it was a very old order, left behind by the first kings of the Pendragon family, to which she belonged. Her family had always respected tradition and familial duty.
In the long river of time, much had been lost, and the exact reason this was done wasn't well known. But the order was that, as long as the dragon in the tower lived, the family must send these supplies—and in times of crisis, they could request the dragon's help.
And with her prolonged stay in the tower, her family began sending not one but two carriages each month, and that was how she managed to kill some of her long boredom... and hunger and thirst, of course.
On the right day of the month, the dragon would go down, retrieve the supplies, and bring them to the castle. And as if she knew which carriage belonged to whom, she always left Fiona's at the foot of the tower, taking the other one to somewhere Fiona didn't know.
It was through these carriages, the books they carried, the toys, the dresses, and the letters from her parents—in every small item—that she could feel their worry, care, love, and regret.
Perhaps there was a time when she resented her parents' decision to lock her in a tower with a dragon. But over time, she matured and understood that it was a decision born from helplessness, and from love—fearful that her curse would keep her from friends, from love, and, in turn, from her cure.
In a tower, she would wait for someone who had slain a dragon for her, who had faced terrible winds, a scorching desert, all to find and save her.
That champion, without a doubt, would be her true love. And with their first kiss, the curse would break—without him ever discovering her other form, the one that would surely drive him away.
Well... that was the plan.
Fiona, who had been bored at the window and ready to go get something to eat, froze.
"Rooaarrrrr!!"
In the distance, she heard the dragon's roar—which meant another challenger.
But the roar didn't stop at just one. It continued to echo.
Fiona blinked, dazed.
Usually, the dragon didn't even roar—she would just breathe fire before Fiona could hear the dragon's roar. What she would hear next were the screams of the knights.
But as the roar echoed and explosions were heard, not once did she hear a single scream that wasn't the dragon's, making her heart race.
"Could it be..." She placed a hand on her chest, her eyes widening.
Then she felt the castle tremble slightly, as if something very heavy had hit the ground.
This time, her breathing quickened — she felt... it could have been the dragon falling.
'Fiona, calm down. Maybe it's not what you think.' She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, hand on her chest, not wanting to build up false hope.
But then, after the crash, there was only silence for a long time—and with it, her hopes also went quiet.
Just when she thought all hope was lost, and yet another knight had left this world, she heard the dragon again.
"OOOAAAAAHHHHH!!"
It was a loud, mournful, painful howl that stirred sadness in the heart of anyone who heard it.
Fiona had never heard anything like it in all the years she had lived in the castle.
The howl lasted a while longer before it finally stopped.
'The dragon... died?' Fiona covered her mouth in disbelief, never having expected that.
Though she didn't know why, her heart ached slightly at the sound of that howl—and imagining the dragon's possible death, she quickly shook her head and cast those thoughts aside.
'What am I thinking? A knight who can finally save me has arrived. Why am I feeling sad about the death of my jailer?' She took a deep breath and pulled herself together as she stepped away from the window.
She ran to the bed, straightened the sheets, adjusted her dress, and lay down carefully so as not to wrinkle the linens.
Grabbing the flowers from the vase beside her head, she lay down perfectly straight with the flowers on her chest and closed her eyes.
And waited...
And waited...
The stems of the roses began to be crushed in Fiona's palms, and a vein started to bulge on her forehead.
She waited even longer—but the damn knight never came.
Just as she was about to lose her patience, she heard heavy footsteps approaching the tower, freezing her heart.
'The dragon... is still alive?!'
Fiona was speechless and got up helplessly.
"Haah… I really thought it was going to be this time." She sighed with a bitter expression.
That was when she heard a voice calling from below.
"Girl, wait here. I'll go up to see her."
Fiona's heart raced again upon hearing the raspy and charming voice, with a strong accent in its tone.
She quickly lay down again and closed her eyes.
And this time, she didn't wait as long as before.
…
Puss climbed the tower steps calmly while the dragon stayed behind, watching him from the doorway as far as its eyes could follow.
The spiral staircase felt lonely and dark, with several broken sections of the outer wall along the way.
Puss ascended without difficulty, as he could see well in the dark, but even if he couldn't, for some reason, the torches along the stairs were lit.
He looked at them curiously.
'Torches lit here? Could it be some kind of magia? Or maybe Fiona comes down to light them?' Puss wondered.
But when he reached the front of the tower room, he saw that the door was locked from the outside with a wooden bar.
'Uh… probably not her, unless there's a hidden path down. But if there is, why bother lighting the torches?'
Shaking his head, not wanting to overthink it, he leapt forward, unsheathed the claws on both hands, and slashed the bar to pieces.
As his feet touched the ground, the wooden fragments fell around him.
He then pulled the door — and it opened easily.
Standing in the doorway, he saw a room that felt lonely and bare, nothing like what a princess should be living in.
A deep sense of pity struck him as he took in the simple decorations, imagining how sad it must've been to live here for years, alone.
The room was quite small and couldn't hold many things.
Beneath one of the windows rested a relatively simple bed, serenely protected by a light veil.
The front of the veil was drawn open, and Puss could perfectly see the graceful figure dressed in green, her fiery red hair flowing beautifully.
She held a small bouquet of white flowers over her not-so-modest chest.
Puss approached quietly, and with a soft leap, landed on the bed, getting a better look at her profile.
'Beautiful…' Puss was slightly dazzled by her beauty and charm.
She looked younger, around eighteen years old, while in the movie she was supposed to be almost thirty, but that didn't take away from how stunningly beautiful she was.
She had a small beauty mark beside her nose, just as he remembered from the film, but seeing her in real life was truly breathtaking.
Unconsciously, he leaned a little closer and noticed her beginning to pout slightly in reaction to his presence.
For a moment, he wondered if he should kiss those beautiful lips.