‘Almost there, almost there.’ she chanted to herself
Furiously whispering, refusing to look down.
Climbing down the ancient wall was no mean feat,
Hands scraping, praying for the ground.
The mighty palace loomed ahead where
she was the Little Lady, untamed.
This Night would pass to a new dawn
And Queen she would be named.
But she knew the sceptre was too heavy,
The crown would not fit her fair head.
The Princess needed to see the world,
To run, while the castle was abed.
‘Leaving without saying goodbye?’
Greeted a voice, so dear.
Waiting at the bottom, was her Mother,
The erstwhile Empress, her worst fear.
‘Ma, I can explain..’ started the maiden,
Looking up at the beloved, shining face.
Only to hear a ‘Hush, child.’
Gathered she was in a mother’s embrace.
Smiling at her surprised daughter, she said,
‘Your heart does not lie in the Kingdom, it seems.
You were meant for more,
To be greater, beyond your dreams.
Be not afraid of what tomorrow brings,
The Child of Fire and Air, you are.
Fly now, it is Time to spread your wings.’
A kiss on the forehead and She was off,
The Prodigal Princess and a promise
To be someday found.
The winds whispered to her what
They had murmerd for eons
To every Lady of the House,
‘A true Queen does not need a Crown.’