Prince Charming had grown up in a pleasant castle of roses and flowers that gave off wild scents in the blooming spring. His father’s voice would boom through the castle during the day with commands and his laughter always managed to dwell in every hall. The King’s wide bulk was often looked down on, but his nature was good, his disposition gentle and wise. Prince Charming, or Char, as his father had called him, grew up in the footsteps of his kind father. They went hunting, rode horses, practiced archery and weaponry together. Warm days had occupied every day of Char’s life until his father’s heart had failed.

The kingdom had buried their beloved king in a hill, the traditional resting place for all dead and gone kings. White flowers speckled the hill in the summer and the mighty oaks, symbols of power, offered their shade to the dead from the top of the hill. However, this did not comfort Char. Soon he entered one of the worst periods of his life. With his father dead and gone, his icy mother took the throne as Char’s regent. Under his mother, Char had discovered how easily it was to manipulate her. From this experience with his mother, he structured an unhealthy bias of women.

Women, he believed, were on the same level as weak slaves. They were meant to be only seen and when they were seen, only to behave properly and wear make up a mile deep. They were cold, heartless creatures in their old age and when they were young and fair they were easy prey for a man of power such as Char. Women were weak and not worthy to hold any position of power. Such was a woman and they held no respect in life. Slowly, a bias had been born in his heart. Never would he love a woman, use them as he had used his mother, yes, but never love. He would rescue DID’s (Damsels in Distress) of course, but that was only to gain support from his people. Naturally, it was only a matter of years before he became a devout sexist. Such was not a very good fact when he entered Medusa’s domain. All her frozen and horrified statues had once been sexist men. If only Char had known when he had left his horse tied to a tree what he was getting himself into. If had known, he would have, in all probability, jumped back on his horse and rode in the opposite direction. However, then there wouldn’t have been a story to tell which wouldn’t have been good. Luckily, Prince Charming knew nothing of his impending future.

Prince Char came back to the light slowly as if swimming upward from a dark pit of water. When he rose to the surface of consciousness, he took a large gasp of air and immediately coughed. A sour stench like that of those expensive smelling candles grandmas and old ladies like filled the air, making it heavy and hard to breath. An additional stench of that distinctive woman smell made him look around for whatever foul source exuded it. He found the source relaxing luxuriously in a furry armchair.

“Hello,” the voice of the woman was warm, inviting, but there was a faint growl contained in it too.

“Hello. And you are…”

“I am Queen Medusa, ruler of this castle and many lands around these parts.”

“Pleased to meet you, your majesty.” Prince Char bowed submissively.

“A question for you dear prince, what are you doing with MY DAUGHTER?” Prince Char sank back in alarm, he hadn’t been expecting this. Women were meant to be quiet, posed, regal, unheard but seen. This lady, if indeed she was, seemed to be the exact opposite of every woman he had ever seen. In bewilderment, he answered her question with yet another bow.

“I was going to rescue her from you, milady and take her back to my palace and marry her.” One of the queen’s eyebrows arched delicately. Prince Char backpedaled as quickly as he could.

“I mean to say, I came to visit her. I thought she might be lonely…” he trailed off, wincing at his own futile attempt to avoid disaster. Queen Medusa just kept staring at him, her beautiful, poised face betraying nothing of her thoughts.

Prince Char stared back at her, into her eyes. They stood like this for awhile, silence filling the small chamber they were in. Prince Char broke first.

“I guess I will just be going then, shall I?” Taking a step backward, he was puzzled when the Queen just shrugged and let him take another step. Prince Char didn’t like this, he felt he was being tricked into making some mistake that would leave him hanging upside down above a mob of hungry crocodiles.

“You are just going to let me go and take your daughter?”

“I see no reason not to let you go. In a way it will be a relief to see the last of her. She is always getting on my nerves. Besides, this place is too small for two beautiful women. Yes, go ahead, take her.”

Prince Char inclined his head graciously to her and turned to leave, however, he didn’t let his guard down. Old women could be treacherous and dangerous. So wary was he that, when the old woman spoke once more, he spun around rapidly on his heel, completely missing whatever it was she had said.

“Could you repeat that, I missed it.”

“I said, young prince, how do you know my daughter likes you and will even cooperate or want to go with you?”

“It’s tradition,” replied Prince Char. “Naturally, the woman must follow the stronger man and…” Prince Char let his sentence drop; something in the Queen’s face made him want to turn to stone. When the Queen spoke again, she could not repress a snarl of dislike and hate.

“I knew it from the first second I laid my eyes on you. You are a corrupt little sexist prince who I dislike and will turn to stone with a snap of my fingers. If there is one thing in this world that makes me mad, it is sexist jerks like you!”

Prince Char opened his mouth in outrage.

“I will not be spoken to by a woman like that. I now will cut off your head, drown you and finally have you hung and put in the stocks…” Prince Char stopped for a moment in confusion. “Or do I put you in the stocks first…”

“Enough, Princeling!” Roared the infuriated Queen. “You have incurred my wrath and now I will take my revenge!” Raising her hands above her head, she gave an otherworldly shriek and shot a bolt of blue lightning at the astonished prince. He raised a hand to block the blow, but to no effect. The bolt hit him in his heart.

However, instead of turning to stone as Medusa expected, Prince Char sank into a sorry lump on the floor. Medusa raised her delicate eyebrows again, this time in humor.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” she said. “But I suppose it is a more fitting end for the likes of you.” She stared down at the forsaken little lump. On the floor, Prince Charming gave a mournful ribbit and hopped in a sad little circle. He was a frog.