Princess of the Tower I.
If I had the strength, I would climb down from this dreadful tower myself, walk all the way to Diamond and jerk that stupid idiot Prince Theodore out of his probably pleasant sleep so that he could just marry me already. Why, I don't understand why that bumbling fool hasn't dropped everything he's doing to come and save me. I've been up here in this cold, sometimes wet, tower for six hundred days and I'm getting sick of it. All I have is some stupid mirror telling me how great I look, a book of spells I can't use, and a tiara that grants me no privileges up here. The last princess locked in this tower was out in days, the courteous Prince Edward- now King Edward- rode here with ten horses just to pick her up.
What do I get? Prince Theodore of Diamond who was too caught up in pointless things like charming women who weren't I, and jousting with his moronic friends from Ruby. The mirror, if it feels like being nice, sometimes lets me watch some of his tournaments. Unfortunately, even when I'm praying for someone to joust him through the chest, he wins every match. I've pondered the slight information of Prince Theodore knowing if I'm in this tower or not, but, since I am his future Queen, he should know who and where I am.
The rest of this bloody Kingdom does.
So here I am, mulling over my days in the castle and wishing I were back there when I heard this rather peculiar tapping noise coming from the north side of the tower. I squealed in delight, thinking that it was Prince Theodore come at long last to save me. I threw myself over to the window, putting half of my body out of it when it happened. A roped contraption caught me and before I knew it, I was falling head first to the ground beneath the tower. It was obvious that Prince Theodore had weak skills when it came to rescuing his wife-to-be.
Miraculously, I had not fallen to my death, and I was sitting atop of some lovely cushiony men. For men, they made a comfortable cushion to my fall. These, I realized, must have been Prince Theodore's men. Two hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me off of the men and upright onto my feet.
"Prince Theodore," I shouted, squirming to get out of his grasps. "Put me down this moment!"
"I'm not Prince Theodore, you silly girl." A voice replied. I knew at once that his words were the truth. He was not my Prince; though I had not heard my Prince's voice, I knew that he must not sound so dreadfully unpleasant. The voice made my ears feel like a dragon was roaring in both of my ears at the same time. Except, oddly, it was much worse than when a dragon had roared in my ears.
"Well, then, if are not my Prince, I request to you to kindly place me back in my tower. For I am not to leave it without being first rescued by him."
"Nay, little girl, I will not place you back into your tower."
"I command you to place me back in my tower." They would have to listen to a Princess, now, wouldn't they?
"Who are you anyways," A new voice came from behind. His voice didn't sound dragony, which was fortunate for him. "To be locked up in a tower?"
"I am Princess Tamora," I muttered. They should obviously know who I am. "I am locked up in that tower, waiting for Prince Theodore to come rescue me, except that buffoon is taking too long."
"'Princess' Tamora?" The man carrying me asked, snorting his nose as if about to shoot flame from it.
"Yes, Princess Tamora. Now if you will set me down over there and help me back up into my-" Apparently, they weren't listening to me because no sooner than I knew, I was tied over a back of a horse and they were getting ready to ride off with me.
"Where are you taking me?" I spat, not caring if I was being unladylike. My mother and father had always taught me to be a lady in front of gentlemen, but, frankly, these men were not gentlemen, so it mattered not if I were rude to them. In the Tamora lady-books, this did not count.
"Oh shut it, if you really are a Princess, you'll sell for so much more at the Market. Until then, goodnight Princess Tamora." He said.
"Goodnight? It's only day and I have no intention of-" Lucky for me, he had every intention for whacking me on my head with the handle of his sword, and that was just what he did.
The brightness of day was turned to night, and I fell into slumber.