Fairy tales for young and old ~ English version

Princess Melodia

Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Enchantia, there lived a beautiful princess named Melodia. She had golden locks that shone like sunlight. However, her mother, Queen Leuce, was full of envy and could not stand the idea of someone being more beautiful than her. As soon as young girls who were too pretty were seen in the kingdom, they found themself locked in a dungeon or banished forever. Some, in acts of quiet rebellion, marred their own visages with scars, a testament to their fear of Queen Leuce's merciless dungeons. Queen Leuce was known for her stunning red, almost black, hair, which cascaded down her back, and she was determined to maintain her position as the most beautiful in the land.

The decree came on a morning draped in silence, as if the castle itself held its breath. Queen Leuce, with a smile that never reached her eyes, summoned Lia, her daughter's personnal maid. She commanded, "My daughter's beauty must never eclipse mine. Go to her and shear her golden mane. Let no lock remain that might challenge the splendor of my own. "

Lia's steps were heavy with dread as she approached Melodia's chamber. The door creaked open, and their eyes met in silent understanding. Melodia's heart clenched, not for the loss of her hair, but for the bond she shared with Lia, which was now tainted by the queen's cruel whim.

Lia, who had been raised alongside the princess, destined to serve her, and whose plainness was her shield against the queen's jealousy, wept as each strand of Melodia's cherished hair tumbled to the ground. Melodia, ever the obedient daughter, bore the burden silently, mourning not beauty lost but the joy of letting the maids weave tales into her tresses.

Lia's heart, however, was not entirely consumed by sorrow, for it fluttered with the hope of love. She and Bevan, a guard of the castle, shared a bond unspoken yet undeniable. Their affection was a dance of glances and jests, never crossing into the embrace of love, for shyness held them apart. But their tender friendship caught the ear of the queen one fateful day, as Lia laughed, "I am far too ugly to ever fear the queen's  dungeons." To which Bevan replied, his voice a soft caress, "In my eyes, you outshine the queen a hundredfold." These words, though whispered with the tenderness of a lover's vow, were a spark that ignited the queen's fury. 

In the grand hall of Enchantia's castle, where the throne loomed like a shadow over all who entered, Queen Leuce sat, her gaze piercing as the dawn. She summoned Bevan and Lia before her, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized the maid.

"Come closer," she commanded Lia, her voice a silken threat. As Lia approached, the queen's eyes traced her features, a slow, deliberate sweep. "It seems I have underestimated your beauty," she declared, her words dropping like stones into the silence of the hall.

Turning her attention to Bevan, she issued her decree, "Arrest her. She dares to rival my allure."

Bevan's heart faltered, his loyalty warring with his love. He hesitated, a silent plea in his eyes. But the queen, sensing his reluctance, leaned forward, her lips curling into a cruel smirk. "Tell me, Bevan, do you think your little sister will grow to be pretty?" she asked, her voice laced with venom.

The unspoken threat hung heavy in the air, a guillotine poised to sever the last of Bevan's resolve. With a heavy heart, he stepped forward, his decision made in the face of the queen's sadistic glee. He took Lia's arm, his grip firm yet trembling, as he led her away, his soul heavy with the weight of his choice. Lia could only understand. She had a younger sibling herself and would do anything for his safety.

As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow through the stained glass windows, Princess Melodia prepared for her nightly ritual. The bath had been drawn, steam rising in gentle swirls, but the usual soft footsteps of Lia were absent. Instead, the door creaked open to reveal Arabelle, a servant whose eyes were wide with fear.