THE PRINCESS AND THE BURNING MARTYRS

The Princess and the Burning Martyrs by Foutoux
From "Foutoux's Foolish Fairy Tales" Copyright L.Ivison 2013

The Princess was in her tower.  Blue silk fell from her coned hat and fluttered slightly in the air coming from the open window.  As usual the Princess was studying -  she was a Princess  who was beautiful both inside and outside, who wanted to know as much about a world beyond  the Palace walls as she possibly could.  She sighed, placed the book on her knee and looked outside into the gardens.  How sad, she reflected, that the spring blossom should fall so quickly - why it had only been two weeks since it had first bloomed.   She looked  at the Maid in Waiting who was sewing a fine tapestry.  Suddenly the Princess stood up and shouting  "Countess Petronski, can you smell what I can."  The Countess nodded.  Anger pushed the Princess to her feet and she ran down the stone staircase out into the brilliant sunshine.  Pulling up her skirts she showed pink satin shoes, ran through the falling blossom and reached her father's study in five minutes.  Prince Tolvishni, an idle man in his 50's, was a supreme delegator.  Thus he could spend his days flicking through old parchments, pacing up and down waiting for his next  meal.  Gluttony was his deadly sin.  At that moment he was anticipating lunch, salivating at the prospect of game, pheasant, turkey in fact any number of delicacies that his French chef would have waiting for him in the Grand Hall.  The Princess burst in on her father:

"Papa, You've done it again"

"Done what, my darling?.  The Prince was a fond father.

"You're burning martyrs again Papa".

"But my sweetest darling, they disobeyed me.  What possible choice did I have."

"Papa - it's just not good enough.  Others have the right to think differently from us.   You really must stop it Papa - it goes against all my beliefs."  And the Princess began to cry.  Now, the Prince, like a lot  (although perhaps not all ) tyrants was very kind to his children and couldn't bear to see his favourite daughter cry.

"Come come, my dear" he said "Very well, message received loud and clear.  No more burning martyrs.  Now let's go and eat."

The father and daughter crossed the vast galleries and went into the dining room where his wife Princess M. was already seated.  There was an entree of foie gras rolled in chocolate power and the King's eyes watered with delight and the delicacy left a trace of chocolate power around his lips.  The Queen savoured the liquorice sorbet and the Princess, moderate in all things, ate daintily with her fingers.

The King was persuaded of the error of his ways by his righteous daughter and felt happier than he had done for some time.  He had a sneaking conviction that he may have himself been saved from a very large after-life bonfire.

Foutoux

From "Foutoux's Foolish Fairy Tales" - to be published with "The Prince and the Kuppies" by Kindle in June 2013.