She was the sole princess of her realm—a kingdom she loved more than life itself. It was her world, her universe, and she ruled over it as though all creation bowed to her will. Cheerful, ever-smiling, with long brown hair crowned in perpetual dignity. Each step she placed upon the earth was as if the ground itself belonged to her.
One day, her love for wandering drew her beyond the palace walls. Along the road, she met a traveler—a beggar in tattered clothes, hands stretched out, pleading for a morsel of joy. Yet the princess's hands remained closed. She did not stop, nor did she drop a single grain of happiness into his empty bowl. She turned away and walked on—with the same pride, the same poise, and that tender heartbeat untouched.
Then came a day of celebration in the kingdom. Rulers from far and near gathered in a grand hall flooded with light and laughter. The princess was there too—queen of beauty, heir to pride—wearing a jeweled crown upon her head, gold on her hands, and her long hair flowing freely. And yet—no one turned to look her way.
Wandering through the crowd, she crossed paths with a prince—eyes like the blue sea, hair like molten gold, beauty like a peacock in full display. She stepped toward him—or perhaps, toward her own downfall. He was the son of a great emperor, who greeted her with respect and obeyed her every word. But he was a king of games—a ruler of hearts, skilled in play. The princess fell under his spell, as though entranced within an enchanted temple.
But time turned its face. Hidden among his golden feathers were thorns that pricked her heart. She could neither cry nor protest—only change herself to please him. The delicate doll of beauty forgot her own self. And then, one day, the prince was gone—perhaps behind the high walls of another palace, or in some distant land where he had built his own realm.
The princess was left with outstretched hands, weeping and longing, staring into a mirror that now reflected only wounds. Her crown fell to the ground, the glory of her hair dimmed, and the colors of pride and dignity faded into shadow.
She took the golden feathers she once cherished and cut them apart by the river's edge. The kingdom knew no more celebrations; in their place came mourning. Dark clouds gathered, gatherings of grief replaced laughter, and shadows began to dwell within the palace walls. The sparkle in her eyes was gone.
Yes—the princess was cast aside, just as she had once cast aside another. The Lord of the heavens and earth had taken the beggar's revenge. And from that day… there was never a festival in that kingdom again.....