Disclaimer: OK, I am alive, but apparently I sold this fairytale to the wicked witch when I was drunk. So I own shiot.
All in all, being stolen by the witch was probably the best thing that could have happened to the princess. Firstly, the witch thought that Absolutely Nothing In Return was a stupid name for a boy or a girl, so she called her Anir, which was a definite improvement. And although she never got the power to spin (not even wool, let alone straw into gold) or talk to animals, she was not completely gift-less (as we shall very soon see).
But of course, she was lonely. The witch kept Anir locked in a tall tower (because some things are just traditional), and never let her meet another person. You don't get to be a witch without being plenty smart, and so she made sure that the princess got regular haircuts and did not allow her to come into contact with any friendly dwarves (which was not very p.c. of her), friendly old men (which was probably very wise of her), talkative fish, talkative mice or pumpkins. So all in all, though Anir wasn't too badly off, she was, in a word, stuck.
And as she grew older, a nagging doubt began to grow in her mind. Was this really how people lived? Was it normal to spend your life cooped up in a tower? At the age of six, after the witch had taught her to read, Anir decided that it was certainly not normal. Normal children ran around solving mysteries in groups of prime numbers. The only mystery for Anir to solve was why she wasn't allowed to do the same. By the time she was fifteen, Anir still hadn't worked this out. Although she had moved on from Enid Blyton.
The witch often told Anir that, though she had always longed for a girl to keep her company, she had despaired of ever finding one until she had come across little baby Anir deep in the heart of the woods (as we know, this last bit was far from true, but the witch had in fact searched the woods once – she'd found one dead, half-eaten baby, though many more had already been taken in by wolves, as is the usual procedure). When Anir asked her about the despair, the witch had told her that in such a rural community it had been very hard to meet anyone who shared her sentiments.
"You mean men were frightened of you because you were a witch?" Anir had asked.
"No, no, it was easy enough to meet men," the witch had replied.
"But you didn't meet one you liked enough?"
"I didn't like any of them. I just don't like men."
And that, Anir supposed, was the reason that the witch kept her locked up in the tower. So that she wouldn't meet these horrible men. Men like those she had read about, who had strange names like Heathcliff, Gulliver, Frodo and – most disturbingly of all – Dick. What other possible reason could there be for keeping a girl inside a tower to which only you had the key? So that she was in your power? So that she was your captive? So that you could mould her into whatever you wanted? Could that be the reason? No, Anir decided, she was being silly. The flowers, chocolates, jewellery and silk negligees the witch kept giving her showed that the she must have her best interests at heart.