The Tragedy of Prince Charming: The Lecher of Merlynne

Once, in a far away land, there lived a prince named Charming. Charming, as everyone knows, has appeared in many stories over the years. Note, however, that they are all stories of the women he has married. This story, however, is the chronicle of his own sad life.

Prince Charming was the heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Merlynne, rich, handsome, gallant, cunning and, of course, charming. But he had a terrible problem that always seemed to get him into trouble. He loved women. He instantly fell in love with every princess he saw. Even if she was not yet a true princess, if she was lovely enough to be one, he wanted to make her his princess. And that he did. His list of wives was staggering. Snow White and Sleeping Beauty were shoo-ins, as was that princess whom his mother insisted sleep on that ridiculous mattress contraption with the pea. He was the first to try the challenge of the Twelve Dancing Princesses, but failed miserably, and would have been beheaded like all the others had his political import not been so great. Cinderella, Rapunzel, even the princess who got him out of that pesky curse that turned him into a frog -- he had married them all. But our clever prince was miraculously able to keep them from finding out about each other by craftily lying through his pearlescent teeth and keeping his brides constantly separated.

One day, it all fell apart.

Charming was out riding on his faithful steed when he came across the most beautiful of all the women he had ever seen. Standing there, deep in the forest was a vision of perfection. Her waist-length black hair, while not as long as Rapunzel's, was just as lustrous. She had skin the color of honey, the exact opposite of Snow White's pale complexion. This princess (he already thought of her as such) had eyes like a kaleidoscope, with a myriad of colors in their depths. She wore an outfit that almost seemed to be made of leaves, but when he took a second glance it became obvious that it was in fact a gown of the finest silk with a lovely pattern of autumn foliage embroidered upon it. He immediately knew that this woman, seemingly supernatural in her beauty, was to be his most treasured wife. Without a thought for what she might want, he scooped the sprightly little creature up onto the back of his horse and rode away to his favorite corrupt clergyman, the one who had married him so many times.

The Prince suddenly felt as if he were being chased, and that the only way to make this beautiful woman his would be to race to have them married before the pursuing presence caught up to him. He pushed his valiant stallion hard, cantering away until they finally met up with the friar, who heard the prince out and married them straight away, although with a bit of unexplainable apprehension.

With a quickly growing sense of foreboding, the prince secreted his new fey wife into one of the many private suites in his wing of the castle and by the end of the night was sure that he loved her more than any of the others in his harem. And she would love him just as much. She seemed somewhat unreceptive the night before, but she would come around in time. The closest he had come to real communication with her was when she finally told him her name after much pestering. Elyrianna. What a name. He believed, deep in his soul that she would eventually grow to love him. But oh, how wrong was our prince.

For you see, dear reader, Charming may have been cunning like Reynard the fox, but he was not at all intelligent. Had he been intelligent, he would have obeyed his intuition and not taken her from the forest. Any of the peasants of his country could have told him that Elyrianna was not to be touched by anyone of mundane, human blood. She was a princess, yes, but her supernatural beauty was, in fact, supernatural. Elyrianna was the sole heir to the kingdom of Faerie, a magical kingdom residing under the ground of Charming's kingdom, and she was not at all amused by his chauvinist behavior. The prince was also in quite a predicament, for she had as much power as she had beauty.

In a few days, he returned to his new wife, primed with excitement to see her devastating likeness again. When he opened the door to the room he kept her in, he was shocked to see her lying openly on the bed with a submissive look in her mesmerizing kaleidoscopic eyes and a tray full of wine and fine pastries next to her. It was as if her attitude had changed completely. He was sure she finally realized what a wonderful thing it was to be the wife of a prince. In elation, he ran over to the bed to join her, divesting himself of his courtly garments as he went. Once he had reached the large bed, she stopped him. "Calm yourself, my prince," she said, "There is plenty of time for that sort of thing later. Please, drink some wine, have some food and tell me everything about you. Everything. And please be honest. Trust is ever so important in a relationship such as ours." The prince was all too willing to comply with her wishes; certainly much more willing than he would be under any normal circumstance. But enchanted as he was by her magical visage and the truth serum she had slipped into his wine, he told all. He was sure that she wanted to learn all about him because she had fallen madly in love with him and wanted to spend the rest of her days by his side. Eventually, he fell asleep while muttering his life story as she stroked his hair with a condescending, calculating look on her face.

Later that night, Elyrianna began the first step in her plan for escape. She visited each of the prince's wives in their dreams, telling them of his polygamy and utter lack of honesty. Although they were only dreams, each princess felt sure that her dream was prophetic and was certain of its truth. Also, each suddenly knew the names of all the others and in what part of the castle each resided. All the wives, who felt cheated, confused and thoroughly duped, simultaneously decided it was imperative to take action immediately to bring down their awful husband. So while he was out on his morning ride, they met in secret to get acquainted and to plan his demise.

Upon returning to the castle, Charming went to visit Rapunzel. He had always regretted the fact that she was so beautiful, as she had the social skills of a two-year old. But that is what tends to happen when a woman is locked in a tower from the time she is a baby. Rapunzel was rash and impulsive and had no concept of right and wrong to speak of. He tried to love her just as well as all his other wives, but she was so childlike it was painful. As he entered the room, she launched herself at him, her hair whipped around her head in a vicious braid. The end of said braid was tied off with a ring, which hit him straight across the face. She began to rail at him, going on about how he was an insensitive polygamist with no heart. Charming felt he was left with one choice only. As he was fed up with her already, this was the last straw. He would have to kill her. He raised his sword over his head and cleaved her in two, just as easily and with as little hesitation as he would feel when breaking a seal with his jewel encrusted letter-opener. As he stared at the body leaking blood and gore onto the cold stone of the floor, he felt revulsion and foreboding begin to wash over him.

Over the course of the next few days, the prince felt a great sense of isolation. All of his wives seemed to be snubbing him. It was as if they were all aware of Rapunzel's death, even though he had done his best to cover it up and they obviously had no idea she existed. He became increasingly unstable as well. As he felt a wall go up between himself and each of his wives, the distance was utterly maddening, making him lose sleep and even lash out at servants if they did the slightest thing wrong.

As the prince descended into madness, the princesses were mobilizing. They planned a devious revenge upon him. Using all their feminine charms, they had pulled every one of the servants into their plot, using a "Surprise Birthday Party" as a ruse to lure them in. When the fateful day arrived, there were streamers and balloons all over the main courtyard. A steward now accompanied the guilt-addled prince at all times, and the man led him into the yard. Suddenly the Frog's Princess, as he fondly called his youngest wife, jumped from behind the well brandishing a dagger, running around like a woman possessed. She managed to stab him, creating a deep wound on his shoulder that was nowhere near fatal, but still more than troublesome.

He had truly loved this princess, and felt he could not kill her for what she had done. So instead he locked her up in a tower room from which she was forbidden to leave. She had saved him from a dire situation. Life as a frog had been dismal, so even if she was strange enough to have kissed a frog, she was still too dear to his heart to murder.

He mused upon the idea of what his life would have been with just one wife as the awkward, embarrassing party dragged on into the early hours of the morning. The more he considered it, the better it seemed. He could have found the fairest, sweetest girl in the land, would not have to juggle his schedule with different wives. He never would have had to keep her secret, and instead could lavish her with praise and finery in public, for all to see.

He approached each of his wives in turn that night, asking if she would please elope with him and be his one and only. He was in earnest, but they hardly knew the difference between a truth and a lie from him any more. Most of them slapped him for even considering it this late in the game. His face was extremely red by the end of the night, and he went off into a corner to fantasize about what life could have been like.

Life would have been better, easier for all involved if he had simply kept his hands to himself and contented himself with one instead of his prolific list. This woman would have had the finest, most expensive fashions brought all the way from France. She would share a bed with him every night. He could spend hours feeding her pomegranate seeds and grapes one by one and telling her of her extraordinary beauty. Not that she would need to know. She would be sure of it already because she would have been the one to tame the lecherous prince's fickle heart. Oh, if only he had lived such a life as that.

His brooding was interrupted by the mysterious sound of hooves on turf. Many, many horses seemed to be galloping to his castle at the greatest of speeds. He suddenly knew he was in danger, but for some reason Charming felt as if his feet had taken root in the ground. He willed his feet to get up and walk away, but they were not cooperating. He looked up and saw that he was staring straight into the satisfied, frighteningly powerful, kaleidoscope eyes of his most beautiful wife. The smirk on Elyrianna's lovely face smacked of superiority and complete, blissful dominance. She wanted him dead. He could see it in her eyes.

Her gaze paralyzed him, kept him stock-still as droves of faerie soldiers invaded his castle grounds and swarmed around him, making noises that must have been speech, but to his stressed brain sounded just like insects buzzing. She smiled wide, her teeth appearing sharp and wicked in the early morning light. "I am about to die," thought Prince. And oh, how right he was, for seconds later, he found himself impaled upon a giant spear, a spear made for sport. For jousting, not fighting was the spear constructed, a final irony for him, a man who was made for sporting, not life.

Epilogue

Within a few weeks the faeries had successfully conquered the entire country of Merlynne. Elyrianna was crowned queen of the new colony and she adopted the prince's drafty castle as her own. She allowed her former husband's harem to have complete freedom. The human peasants were much happier with their new ruler than they had ever been with the dissatisfied prince, no one felt great sadness at his passing, and they all lived happily ever after.

Moral: People should stick to one spouse. Spreading the love only leads to disaster.