There have been many fabulous princesses. Princesses as sweet as honey, with flawless complexions and flowing hair. Occasionally, there are princesses acrimoniously ugly both outside and in. This princess would bitterly flounce through her castle, her blond ringlets swinging about her thin, bony face, pink lace trailing behind her feet, around her skirts, fists clenched, body tense, screeching to her lady-in-waiting about her suitors -- or lack of them. While you gape at the rudeness of this princess, do not forget her lady-in-waiting. The princess’s lady-in-waiting was never given a name, as she was born to be a servant of an insignificant life. We will call her Ada. 

Ada had doted on the princess since she could tottle about in little knit socks. She and the princess were close in age, so the princess had grown up rudely bossing Ada from place to place and Ada being ordered to complete pointless tasks. Thus, Ada lived with a hole in her heart, aching desperately for a love to fill it. Now, roughly eighteen, Ada followed the princess through the castle like a lost dog. 

Until one day when the queen grew drained from the storm that was her daughter, clouds of sour anger which clumped and grew thick, following the princess through the corridors. It was on this day that the queen called Ada and the princess into the gilded throne room, declaring that they were to adventure in the forest to update the royal maps. Ada followed the princess back into her bed chambers, where they packed for the trip; Ada packed; the princess sat pouting). The air outside the castle smelled of springtime, while the sun danced over shining yellow buttercups from an azure blue sky. Fluffy clouds waltzed above the duo while Ada led the way, trying to remain optimistic despite the princess’s bad mood. When the pair reached the edge of the woods, the princess was still grumbling. 

Nevertheless, Ada remained cheery, until she spotted the monstrosity resting before them. She spun towards the princess, frantically trying to shush her complaints, for everyone knows that silence is preferable in the presence of a dragon! Ada attempted to muffle the princess, who continued complaining, oblivious. The dragon, however, was not. The beast puffed fire through its nose: swoosh! Finally drawing the royal’s attention and exploding with rage, the dragon snapped its jaws loudly. That was the end of the princess. 

There was a moment of silence. But then Ada screamed. She screamed as though her brain was shorting out. Gasping, she convulsed, until finally, she collapsed with shaking, shuddering sobs. The dragon tried to apologize. The dragon tried to say the princess was annoying. Tried to say everyone was better off without her. Ada took none of it. Squawking, she ran away from the dragon, all the way back to the castle, where the queen threw her in the dungeons for betraying the royal family and murdering the princess. 

Sentenced to life in the dungeons, thinking herself a murderer, Ada sat in the cold, lifeless, sun-deprived castle dungeons. She sat amongst the rats and vermin, on top of the filthy, old, sharp stones. In this dungeon cell, unforgiving and frigid, with only stale bread and water to eat. It was here that Ada died. She died because her heart had been left full of holes. The dragon could sense her death, so it sent a morning dove to fetch her spirit. It brought ghost-Ada to the woods, where she spoke with the dragon. She realized how terrible the princess had truly been. Years passed with the dragon; beast and undead leaving beneath a golden canopy of oval leaves. Ada remains beneath the treetops still, except her heart no longer has a hole.