The Powerless Princess

Written by Barb Greenberg, an excerpt from After the Ball – A Woman’s Tale

Once upon a time there was an extraordinarily beautiful princess. Her beauty came not from her eyes or her hair or her figure, but from the power in her heart.

This princess married a man she saw as tender and kind, for he always spoke to her with sweet words of love. But his elegant expression disguised a dangerous truth. He was a desperate seeker of power, willing to seize it at any opportunity.

However power didn’t grow in gardens, nor was it sold in the markets. So after much searching, her husband devised a plan.

He waited until princess was fast asleep and quietly pulled a silver strand of power from her. He couldn’t hold the thin, gossamer thread, for it kept sliding through his fingers, so he dropped it into a basket that he quickly hid under their bed.

Determined not to give up, he resolved that every night as his princess slept he would take another strand until her found one he could hold onto and use.

Night after night he stole strands of power. Some were silver, some gold. There were reds and greens and blues. Some were yellow and other lavender. He was not able to hold onto any of them and dropped each one into the secret basket.

One night the princess felt a tug at her heart and woke from her sleep asking, “Are you taking my power?”

Her husband answered quickly, “How could you ask such a thing? I would never do that to you. I love you. You must be dreaming.” Then his eyes filled with tears and the princess believed him.

Yet every morning she awoke sadder and weaker, knowing something was wrong and believing it must be her fault in some way.

One day her fairy godmother came to the princess and whispered, “Trust yourself, my sweet dear, trust yourself.”

That night, once again, the princess felt a tug at her heart and woke asking, “Are you taking my power?” Quickly her husband answered, “How could you say such a thing? I would never do that to you. I love you. You must be dreaming.” Once again he cried, and a tear rolled down his cheek.

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This time, trusting herself, the princess recognized his dangerous deceit.

In the morning she found the basket where he had hidden her strands of power. She carried them with her as she left her husband and moved into a simple cottage.

Then she cried and cried, for she had loved this man. And often she walked the meadows hoping gusts of wind might blow her pain away.
Slowly she began to weave her strands of power back together. She worked for a long time. The sun and moon took turns shining through her windows. Branches on the trees filled and emptied and filled again as seasons changed.

One morning the princess woke to find her power woven into a soft magnificent shaw, a large multicolored and uniquely textured tapestry stronger and more beautiful than she could ever imagine.