"Pray tell," Miranda finally spoke, when they had come to a thick,
lush wood, "Whose is this wood?"
"Well, it's actually King Lack-Beard's. If you had married him, you could have ruled over it."
"Ah! Unlucky wretch I am!" Miranda moaned. "If I had just married him, I wouldn't be living in squalor, but in a castle with lots of rich gowns and I could have been ruling over all of this!"
They continued on, until they came to some rolling green meadows, smooth and soft with corn and vegetables growing in them. Miranda could smell them, and as her stomach growled she asked,
"Who owns these meadows?"
"Why, King Lack-Beard does. He owns pretty much all of the land around here. I live in his country you know."
"Am I stupid!" Miranda again whined. "I wish I would have accepted him! Then I could be eating these vegetables right now, all steamed and delicious with maybe some tender meat."
"Well, you shouldn't have mocked him so. He is a very kind and benevolent king and he really loves his people."
"Oh, shut up." Miranda snapped crossly. They continued on, until they came to a prospering and bustling city. Miranda again asked,
"Pray tell, whose city is this?"
"It's King Lack-Beards! I told you he owned all of the land around here."
"God, how stupid I am!" She whimpered, "Right now I could be taking a hot bath, and I could have a closet full of nice clothing and I could be warm and rich instead of being in the poor state I am in now."
"Do you ever stop complaining?" Antony snapped. "Is that all you care about? Rich clothing and a warm bed and money? Are you even capable of loving someone? Can you imagine if someone loved you, and you didn't love them back? You get hundreds of suitors every day, and most love you, yet you reject every one. You are a self-centered, spoiled brat. I hope someone teaches you a lesson someday."
Miranda was quite taken aback by Antony's outburst. No one had ever spoken a harsh word to her, and she was quite surprised by it. She just stared, aghast, at Antony, who looked forward, unmoving, cold and rigid. She looked forward too, and they sat coldly silent towards each other until they reached a tiny, crude hut built of salvaged pieces of wood and mud.
"Why are we stopping?" Miranda finally spoke.
"We are home."
"What? Home? THIS shack? This awful piece of squalor?"
"Yes, this awful piece of squalor is our home." Antony's voice was slightly edgy; he was getting annoyed.
"Well, where are the servants?"
"Servants? Ha! That's a good one. What you want to do must be done yourself."
"No. I refuse to live in such a paltry place. I will not move." She sat stubbornly, crossing her arms and pouting.
"Come on, I'm in no mood for arguing." Antony sighed, exasperated.
"No!" Miranda cried, pouting even more.
"Fine! You act like a child, you'll be treated like one!" Antony yelled. With the remark he lifted her from the cart and slung her over his shoulder while she kicked and screamed like a five-year-old.
"Well, it's actually King Lack-Beard's. If you had married him, you could have ruled over it."
"Ah! Unlucky wretch I am!" Miranda moaned. "If I had just married him, I wouldn't be living in squalor, but in a castle with lots of rich gowns and I could have been ruling over all of this!"
They continued on, until they came to some rolling green meadows, smooth and soft with corn and vegetables growing in them. Miranda could smell them, and as her stomach growled she asked,
"Who owns these meadows?"
"Why, King Lack-Beard does. He owns pretty much all of the land around here. I live in his country you know."
"Am I stupid!" Miranda again whined. "I wish I would have accepted him! Then I could be eating these vegetables right now, all steamed and delicious with maybe some tender meat."
"Well, you shouldn't have mocked him so. He is a very kind and benevolent king and he really loves his people."
"Oh, shut up." Miranda snapped crossly. They continued on, until they came to a prospering and bustling city. Miranda again asked,
"Pray tell, whose city is this?"
"It's King Lack-Beards! I told you he owned all of the land around here."
"God, how stupid I am!" She whimpered, "Right now I could be taking a hot bath, and I could have a closet full of nice clothing and I could be warm and rich instead of being in the poor state I am in now."
"Do you ever stop complaining?" Antony snapped. "Is that all you care about? Rich clothing and a warm bed and money? Are you even capable of loving someone? Can you imagine if someone loved you, and you didn't love them back? You get hundreds of suitors every day, and most love you, yet you reject every one. You are a self-centered, spoiled brat. I hope someone teaches you a lesson someday."
Miranda was quite taken aback by Antony's outburst. No one had ever spoken a harsh word to her, and she was quite surprised by it. She just stared, aghast, at Antony, who looked forward, unmoving, cold and rigid. She looked forward too, and they sat coldly silent towards each other until they reached a tiny, crude hut built of salvaged pieces of wood and mud.
"Why are we stopping?" Miranda finally spoke.
"We are home."
"What? Home? THIS shack? This awful piece of squalor?"
"Yes, this awful piece of squalor is our home." Antony's voice was slightly edgy; he was getting annoyed.
"Well, where are the servants?"
"Servants? Ha! That's a good one. What you want to do must be done yourself."
"No. I refuse to live in such a paltry place. I will not move." She sat stubbornly, crossing her arms and pouting.
"Come on, I'm in no mood for arguing." Antony sighed, exasperated.
"No!" Miranda cried, pouting even more.
"Fine! You act like a child, you'll be treated like one!" Antony yelled. With the remark he lifted her from the cart and slung her over his shoulder while she kicked and screamed like a five-year-old.