The husband and his wife were unhappy.

Some might wonder why they had cause to be unhappy. After all, their financial situation was secure—they were a very prosperous couple, with large land holdings and revenue. They had a home—a beautiful, large, ancient building on the edge of the sea. And both were happily employed—they happened to be the sole rulers of a happy, healthy, growing nation.

They had one singular reason to be unhappy. While they loved each other very much, they had difficulty in producing the symbol of love that comes between a man and a woman. The couple was without child, and had been for several years.

As is the case with most couples, the eventual child, a girl child, a crown princess, was doted on and spoilt throughout infancy, and likely would have remained so if not for an old enemy of the crowned couple. An old crone came to the castle and stood at the walls for a good four hours one morning muttering nonsense about cravings and lettuce and babies. Passerby considered her mad, and it is best to let mad women continue with their mad nonsense.

And so the queen never learned the cause of her daughter's blindness, which came on suddenly overnight. She never knew it was a case of vengeance.

Not knowing the cause, the ruling couple sent for every authority, via ship, horse, and occasionally air. Everyone from the lowest herb-nurse to the most expensive doctor was consulted in absolute secrecy about the girl's sudden lack of sight.

Eventually, a decision was made with the help of a dragon-borne sorcerer. The sorcerer, well aware of the cause but unable to say so due to the unfortunate curse, stated that the girl might regain her sight at any time—but that said time would remain unpredictable. After the sorcerer left with his gold and his dragon's cow-steak, the king and queen decided that the girl must grow up in such a manner as to fool everyone who saw her. She must not be pitied or dammed by this unfortunate coincidence.

And so, only the queen, king, nurse, and official lady-friend knew of the blindness. As the girl grew, so did her intelligence, inner strength, and beauty. Without any of these she would have been revealed as blind. Her intelligence enabled her to memorize ruling ancestors as well as every footstep of every lord, lady, servant, and dog in the castle. Her inner strength carried her through the times when she tripped over a moved chair in front of more graceful peers, or when the ignorant chattered away on topics that chipped at her heart. And her beauty—similar to that of an ice maiden—dazzled those she met to the point where they did not question if her eyes never met theirs straight on.

Eventually, as is routine with these things, the princess grew to marriageable age. Suitors drew near the castle, and each new prince, count, king, and knight recited similar tales hailing her beauty and professing deep, unabiding love. Some showed class, some lewdness, all had a common tinge of artificiality.

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Unfortunately for the poor suitors, the princess had devised a test. Accustomed to reading nuances in tone for so many years of darkness, she realized that not one of these men loved her as she knew from story books. So she created a test for each. It was quite simple.

One by one, she would draw the men into a private room for a private situation. The man would begin heavy protestations of love and devotion. The princess would ask for a favor, the man would say, "Consider it done!" The princess gave a speech:

"You do love me. I know you love me. And I think I could love you, and even marry you. However, our love must transcend all barriers between us, and come into the cores of our very beings. Therefore, I have one request. Cut out your eyes for me, and I'll cut mine out for you, and as sight is such a shallow thing, we will be well rid of them."

Then would come the awkward silence, then muttered apologies, and then the inevitable escape of the man in question.

The princess' victories were bittersweet. Yes, she escaped the clutches of men who were truly indifferent. But the continual rejections, or "escapes", wore down at her little by little, until the only thing holding her together was depression.

One day, she went on a walk. She counted her steps, as usual. One, two, three…she knew from experience that it only took ten steps to reach the cliffside, and then a steep drop followed by a sudden stop. As a little girl she had been warned about this, but now it seemed different, exciting even. It was a way out.

Eight, nine…

Fortunately (or unfortunately?) the court jester was passing by at that point and saw the exquisite lady almost falling over the edge, and he yelled for her to stop.

To be honest, the jester was not only experiencing typical humane feelings of shock at a possible death. A deformed young man himself, he was cursed with more than his fair share of feelings. To their own loss, no one would share with him—his misshapen back caused others to laugh at his uneven, rambling gait, his grotesque face caused men to shrink back in revulsion . If not for the ability to make others laugh at crude, cruel physical jokes, he would have been shunned. At best, he was on the outside looking in.

The jester had eyes, and had seen how this young girl never laughed at those demeaning jokes, how she always looked bored. He also noted how she would laugh at his more pointed verbal jests, and how her face lit up like a star. And, added to his own miseries, was this love for a slip of a girl quite beyond his reach.

And here she was, about to walk off a cliff!

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Cautiously, he approached her. He apologized, she accepted, and apologized in return. His acceptance, and a comment, led into a lovely conversation around the garden. Among little nothings and commonplace sayings, the jester's heart was utterly given away, and the maiden's took flight as well.

They reached the cliffside again, and stood for a minute. The princess, quietly, said,

"I was going to jump."

The jesters froze, and sharply asked, "But in heavens name why?"

She paused, thinking what to say next. She finally decided on a dignified, "It was simply too much for me. Not anything for you to worry about."

The jester wasn't fooled. "For me to worry about! And to think…"

Curious, she asked, "Think what?"

The jester decided to take a gamble, one that had begun at the beginning of the hike. Changing tactics, he said, "Well, highness, you have everything. What could be too much?"

Sighing, she said, "People not seeing clearly… that's all…"

Passionately, he exclaimed, "Well, I've seen a damn sight clearer in the past half hour than I have in years!"

Piqued, she snapped, "What did you see? A rich spoiled brat?"

"No!" He took his gamble, and a deep breath. " I saw the only girl I could love"

She paused, and made a decision. Tiredly, already expecting the depressing outcome, she began,

"You do love me. I know you love me. And I think I could love you, and even marry you. However, our love must transcend all barriers between us, and come into the cores of our very beings. Therefore, I have one request. Cut out your eyes for me-"

"Consider it done!" The princess heard a sharp sound, like a small knife.

"NO! no, no, don't…please…"

Fustrated in his quest to win fair lady's love, he asked, "Why ever not?"

The girl broke down. "It was a test! It was all a test…my love, my sweet boy….people can never see the truth, but I cannot see at all…why?! Why am I expected to not enjoy life's beauty, but everyone else can use me as a visual ornament? Why…" She walked a few steps, weeping, waving him away from her.

The jester's heart was breaking for his love, but his hope was there-she had said "my love", had she not?

He took a few steps towards her, held her, then murmured, "There there, there is time for that yet…"

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As the two lovers embraced, they failed to realize that they were close to the edge of the cliff. Much too close, in fact. They tumbled as one.

And the princess was no longer blind. She had seen love.