The Enchanted Truth: A Modern-day Fairy Tale for Grown-up Girls

THE ENCHANTED TRUTH

A MODERN-DAY FAIRY TALE for GROWN-UP GIRLS

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By KYM PETRIE

GREENLEAF BOOK GROUP PRESS

Copyright © 2012 Kym Petrie
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-60832-368-5

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Chapter One

Once upon a time in a kingdom much like yours and mine, there lived a beautiful Princess. A sad, silly Princess whose heart had just been stomped on by the man she thought was her Prince Charming. And so, like all of us have, she threw herself into an angry, tearful stupor, whining about her misfortunes, screaming about the injustice of love, hating all those she had ever dated or wanted to date. She cried. She moaned. She ate heaps of junk food. She wished could get on with her life.

One sweet, dewy spring morning, Her Royal Highness awoke to find a sea of pink ruffles perched on her windowsill. The pampered imperial jumped out of bed and threw her arms around the rosy winged woman.

"This is it; she's come to answer my wish," thought the Princess, who was nearly insane with excitement. "My Fairy Godmother will fix everything now."

Before the fairy could say a word, the anxious aristocrat asked the round, wee woman, "How does this work again? Do I get three wishes, or do you just want to go straight to the 'poof ' part and bring Prince Charming here ASAP?"

The magical visitor cast a wondering glance.

"Wait!" the Princess yelled, her heart pounding wildly now. "I bet you'll bring me to the royal pond, won't you?" She stuck her head through the open window to get a better view. "That's it, isn't it? Oh, this is my favorite fairy tale! I bet he's just been sitting on his lily pad waiting for me for weeks. Let's go, then; let's get to it. Introduce me to my Frog Prince!"

The frantic girl raced to her bedroom door still dressed in her nightgown.

"Oh, dear," whispered the pastel pixie loudly, "perhaps you should take a minute to collect yourself."

She floated toward the puzzled noble. "First things first, my dear child. I am, indeed, your Fairy Godmother, but today I came only to introduce myself and to bring you a small gift."

The ingenue looked distraught. "Is it my Frog Prince?" she asked hopefully.

The glowing guest shrugged her pink-ruffled shoulders and shook her head no. A small squeaky whine escaped the Princess.

"I've brought you a gift, my dear," the bedazzled tutor said again, patting the maiden's arm softly. "A magical gift."

The fairy held out a dainty hand, and in her palm was a small leather lifeless frog. The frog wasn't real.

The novice regal rolled her eyes and let out a huge guffaw. "You've got to be kidding me," she growled as she leaned in to poke the toy with her finger.

"Indeed I am not," sighed the fairy as she carefully placed the shriveled souvenir in the fair damsel's hands. The Princess looked at the frog carefully, surveying his wrinkled skin and distorted face.

"Why wouldn't you grant my wish?" asked the Princess. "What good will this do me?"

"Take your time, my dear," offered the zealous zenith. "We both know this is not the first time your heart has fallen prey to a badly behaved beau. You aren't ready for your Prince just yet ... you have much to think about first."

The fledgling monarch set the small leather frog on her bedside table and took a long look at him. His eyes sparkled. His mouth hung open in a crooked grin.

"What is it you want in your Prince?" asked the luminous visitor. "Take the time to think about what you desire in a partner, my dear, or you will continue to make the same mistakes choosing your mate."

"I do know what I want in a partner!" snapped the Princess. "But I am cursed! The men I've dated fool me; they trick me intentionally. My suitors present themselves as honorable men, but they turn out to be someone other than that completely. Each time I think I am falling for Mister Right, and then what happens? Bam! The guy turns out to be a fraud, a swindling scoundrel, or a dishonest, disparaging jerk!"

"Darling girl," cooed her bubbly benefactor, "those you choose to date are exactly who they have always been. In the past, you have chosen to ignore that truth. We have to date many a toad before we find our Prince. The frog I have given you will help you be true to yourself. He will help you be real and sure in your choices."

The Princess picked up her ornamental amphibian and flicked at one of his floppy legs. She turned him on his side and took a look at his sand-filled belly. An empty pocket was sewn into his underside. She looked at her Fairy Godmother again, who was floating toward the window, making ready to leave.

"The pocket is a place where you can keep your decisions." The fairy said in a sweet, soothing voice. "It's in our quiet, simple moments of reflection and solitude that we find truth. Write down everything you desire your partner to be. Place your desires into the pocket and leave them there."

"That's it? Then what? How will that make a difference in my choices? How will that make me more ready?" The Princess folded her arms across her chest and glared at the sweet-faced winged woman.

"Think of him as your dating conscience, my dear," her charmed adviser said with a smile. "A reference point to keep your dating decisions in check. Sometimes a young maiden's libido can get the better of her common sense." She floated out the window in a pale pink cloud of lace and ruffles.

The Princess drop-kicked the tiny stuffed frog across her room.

Chapter Two

That frog lay sunny-side up on the Princess's floor for days, but time had not stood still in the Kingdom. It was quite apparent that the Princess had discarded her mini-mentor's advice in the same manner she had tossed the congenial curiosity aside on the carpet. The lovely young lady had begun to date a very handsome young man from the castle next door.

"He's gorgeous," she bragged to her royal court, "and so funny. He has a great future in orchards and a brand-new convertible carriage, top of the line. My mother loves him. We had so much fun again last night."

The drawing room was loud with infectious giggles and the rustling of gowns. The pretentious nobles were far too busy sharing gossip to pay attention to the obvious disdain the servants had for the fair-haired regal's latest crush. No one took notice as one of her handmaidens shot the others a questioning look. The Prince next door was such a player, but far be it for her to say anything.

That night, while the Princess was waiting in the parlor for the Prince to pick her up for their third date (he was only forty-five minutes late ... surely there was a good reason), the Butler entered the room and delivered a small brown envelope addressed to the Princess. Thinking it was a love note from her handsome neighbor, the Princess tore it open excitedly. On the front of the card was a picture of an ugly brown toad.

"He is toadily not for you" read the card. The Princess sat in stunned silence. She dropped the card on the Butler's tray and made her way up to her bedroom and out onto her balcony for a breath of much-needed fresh air.

"Who would send me such a note?" she fumed. She stomped her feet and had begun to throw a small tantrum when she noticed the Prince's carriage pull up next door. She watched as the footman opened the carriage door and helped a beautiful woman out of the gleaming vehicle. The Princess felt her chest tighten as the Prince, too, climbed out from the sparkling, steed-pulled chariot and wrapped his arm around the dishy damsel's waist, nuzzling her neck and stroking her back.

"That bastard," grumbled the Princess. "How could I have been so stupid?!" She slammed the door to the balcony behind her and threw herself onto her bed. Heaving sobs echoed through the castle as she cried the night away.

Chapter Three

A Fairy Godmother keeps a busy schedule of appointments with each of her needy, bereft maidens, and the one assigned to our Princess was no different. Our effervescent sidekick popped in and out to see the Princess as often as she could and always kept her fingers crossed that the lovely young thing would start to learn her heart's lessons and move on into her own life with what meager support the Fairy Godmother could give. She tried to be as subtle as she could on her visits but was wondering what it would take for this naive Princess to get with the program.

"Geez," the fairy thought to herself, "what is it with these girls nowadays? Do they really think that everything will just fall into their lap? When will they learn that happiness isn't a gift that comes to rescue you on horseback ... it's a light you have to reach for inside?"

The Fairy Godmother surveyed the Princess's bedroom. It was littered with the remains of chocolate bars, potato chips, and ice cream containers. She swept cheesy crumbs off the bed and sat softly beside the grieving girl. The Princess's face was puffy and streaked with mascara.

"What is wrong with me?" the Princess wailed.

"My dear, you have to learn how to be true to yourself. Did you take the time to write down what you desire in a Prince as I reminded you to? If you had, would this one have lived up to the expectations you had listed? I think not. Your tender heart was not meant to be cared for by a man who is always on the prowl. Haven't you always said that you want an honest, respectful partner who finds you to be the most interesting?"

The Fairy Godmother clucked away, gently scolding the young Princess. "Surely it is more important to have a caring prince than one who drives a hot new carriage. You deserve a partner whose character lives up to your expectations."

For a while longer, the Fairy Godmother consoled the Princess before making her way out the window and on to the rest of her day. She looked back at the defeated girl lying rumpled in her bed and heaved a heavy sigh.

Chapter Four

Many more days passed, yet the small leather frog remained crumpled in a corner of the Princess's room. One morning after waking with the dawn, the fair maiden lay still in her bed, contemplating the fate of her love life for what seemed like hours. When the sun started to cast long shadows throughout her snack-scattered yet sumptuous suite, she finally slid out of bed and crossed the room to her dressing table. Still rumpled, drowsy, and dressed in her nightclothes, she searched through the drawers and pulled out a pen and paper.

"One day my Prince will come," the Princess wrote, "and when he does, he will be ..." She began to list all of the qualities she desired in a partner, sometimes hurriedly scribbling down thought after thought, but more often than not, sitting still, thinking quietly about what was important to her before adding to the list. When she finished, there were many pages on the dressing table, each one filled with her deepest thoughts and desires. She folded the papers neatly and knelt down to pick up her teeny stuffed frog. She placed the notes into his belly pocket and set him down gently on her night table. Frog looked at her directly now, full and proud—her sand- and secret-filled sentinel.

Chapter Five

Despite the exercise of writing down her thoughts, as her Fairy Godmother had advised, our redolent regal still had not made the acquaintance of her Knight in Shining Armor. Little had changed, and as much as she tried, the Princess found it difficult to keep her mind from circling back to how incredibly lonely she was. The lanky lass had rarely left the castle in weeks, and it was starting to become obvious that a gallant hero was not on the immediate horizon. She knew she had to make the effort to change her daily landscape so she took matters into her own hands.

Her Highness swallowed her pride, threw on her big girl bustle, and stepped bravely into the world of single chickdom.

She sent notes to friends, arranged divine dinners, and stretched the limits of her once small and pretentious social circle. She dragged girlfriends to museums and the theater, took salsa lessons ... even went spelunking. Sure, a few available men were around, but the Princess was quick to take note of any "royal flags" in their conversations or behaviors—clues that showed a potential suitor's true colors.

She made a conscious effort to stop whining about her single status and start doing the sorts of things she would normally have expected to do with a prospective prince. In fact, she began to set aside some time each week to take herself out on a date.

Each morning she greeted her stuffed frog with a wink and a nod, and each night she gazed over at him as she settled into bed.

There were many times the content of her notes came to mind, and often, after meeting an enthusiastic suitor, she realized there were additions to be made. Her wobbly bauble had grown considerably: his weathered skin now stretched to its limit as he held an ever-expanding slate of the Princess's considerations.

One damp and foggy evening after watching a particularly curious foreign film, the Princess and her gaggle of girlfriends made their way to a fabulous new wine bar. There she found herself in the company of an exceptionally gallant member of the King's Round Table. The pair sidestepped the crowd and moved to a quiet spot in the back, where he steadied his dark and brooding gaze on her and leaned in to share a bit about himself. What started out as a scintillating tale of courage and strength soon turned tedious and yawn worthy.

The minutes ticked by like hours, and the Princess desperately tried to signal a friend to save her from the situation. The hunky Knight may have freed the small village from the likes of that dastardly dragon, but Her Royal Highness had spent the evening as his conversation hostage.

Upon arrival back at the castle, she ran up the stairs two at a time, shot across her bed to reach the frog, and promptly added humble to the list.

On another occasion, whilst pulling on her life jacket and helmet for an adventure-filled day of white-water kayaking with the gang, the Princess was introduced to a wealthy explorer who had recently arrived home to a hero's welcome after leading the Queen's Navy to a new and savage land.

"So pleased to make your acquaintance," he said as he smiled broadly and bowed with a grand sweep of his arm. His voice was low and confident, his hands quick and adept as he pulled her closer to buckle her gear and offer suggestions pertaining to paddle handling and balance. He gripped, he tightened, he explored—that's for sure. His wandering hands were far more interested in the curve of her bustline than her safety during the trip. Before she even made it halfway across the dock to her kayak, she made a mental note to add to her checklist the word respectful.

A change in the Princess was noticeable, and the Queen was not amused by her unladylike antics. One afternoon following a lecture at the university, the pensive imperial took a leisurely stroll back home. This gave her the much-welcomed chance to walk through the sweet fresh grass and gardens along the path from the auditorium. The fountain danced and gurgled, the birds sang, the pond shimmered under a cloudless blue sky.

Her Mother met her at the door, and they shared small talk as they made their way through the hall and up the staircase into the regal daughter's room. The Princess leaned back in her chair, finding within it a quiet corner. The Queen sat tall on a sumptuously covered sofa, looking over the finery that had been laid out for the Princess to change into. She spied her daughter's curious comrade still propped on the bedside table, its belly taut and mouth agape.

When the Queen suggested that the Princess was becoming too independent and high-spirited, the fair maiden jousted, dauntless, "Mother, I am not going to sit around waiting for a man while my life goes by ..."

The matriarch sighed and lowered her voice to a sweet whisper. "Darling, you have had some interesting suitors vying for your attention. What about the men who have been courting you?"

The spirited scion leaped out of her chair and began to change into her evening clothes, waving her petticoats in utter frustration.

"I know those men aren't for me—" The novice royal had barely finished her sentence when the Monarch raised her voice in surprise.

"How could you so quickly?" she interrupted. "You've hardly had time to get to know them."

"Mother," the Princess sighed, sliding into her yellow satin heels and straightening the neckline of her gown. "Of course I've had the time. It isn't so hard to look beyond their gleaming new carriages or manicured good looks."

The two women walked back down the stairs and into the cavernous foyer surrounded by the soft amber warmth of sunset. The low, long chimes of the palace clock signaled the hour, and the meddling monarchical mother slid her arm around her daughter's shoulder.

"I am starting to wonder," said the Queen, "if that ugly toy frog hasn't put some sort of spell on you. It seems you have lost interest in searching for your true Prince Charming since it's been on your night table."

The Princess smiled and squeezed her mother's hand quickly before stepping out of the castle and into the carriage for a night out with the girls.

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from THE ENCHANTED TRUTH by KYM PETRIE Copyright © 2012 by Kym Petrie. Excerpted by permission of GREENLEAF BOOK GROUP PRESS. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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