The Enchanted Canvas

The Enchanted Canvas

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WpMetadataReadZakończone śr., mar 20, 2024<5 min
This is a short story about a painter named John, whose paintings gain magical properties.
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The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. That was what they whispered about me. My mother was a dancer who seduced an Emperor to survive. I was the ignored princess who seduced a Prince to steal a throne. I thought I was the heroine of a romance novel. I thought if I smiled enough, schemed enough, and loved him enough, I would get my happily ever after. I was wrong. My sister was the beloved Cinderella. The Crown Prince was her Prince Charming. And I? I was just the wicked stepsister who got in the way. My reward for stealing the male lead was a hellish marriage, a cold bed, and a lonely death. Now, I have returned to the beginning. I'm done chasing fairytales. I'm done trying to be someone I'm not. This time, I won't go to the ball. I won't wear the glass slipper. I will just fade into the background and disappear. Or so I thought. "Careful, Your Highness." On the balcony where I tried to hide from the world, a hand caught me. It wasn't a Prince. It was a Knight I had never noticed before. I wanted to retire from this fairytale, but it seems the story isn't done with me yet

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