Chatterbox: Inkwell

Critique, please? It's not all great.

Chapter
One: An Unexpected Monarch-Napping

One
day, quite a while ago, in the era of kings, queens, castles,
dragons, war, and noble deeds, a young girl strode to her lessons.
This girl happened to be the Princess of Glenenmoore, Lady of Skill,
etc., etc . She moaned and groaned all the time about these lessons,
but it proved no avail. She was still forced to have them.

The
princess, Sally, walked along long corridors to the lesson room where
she learned how to read, write, and use proper etiquette. In her
opinion, this was not an education to be proud of.

So,
she read. She read about science, survival, math, psychology,
physics, languages, novels, legends, and many other things. There was
always a book in her hand, for she dared not become like her sisters.
That would be a disaster in a disaster. You see, Sally was a genius
of sorts, not at all like her thick-headed sisters. Anne, Shirley,
and Rebekah were scared to even step outside for fear they might get
a splinter. While Sally spent her days disguised as a peasant roaming
the countryside and exploring, her sisters preferred tea with the
court women instead. If you saw Sally on an annual slow ride through
the village, you would think of her as a dainty, fragile, selfish
brat. But, at night it was a different story.

If
you unfortunately had to work late in the fields or forest, you would
see Sally galloping across the countryside in her self-made tunics
and pants. Some villagers thought she was a phantom, a phenomenon
multiple tales had been spun about.

“Well,
needlework is good for something.” She would say.

On
these nightly trips, she tended to ponder about the world outside of
her kingdom. Sally wanted to see the oceans, see mountains, and see
crystal caves. She wanted to know the earth was round. She wanted all
the animals of the jungle to be seen by her. She wanted to be free.
Free of lessons, royal protocol, and the life of a princess. She
wanted to leave. And someday she would. Yes, she would.

She
then looked at the faded walls around her. The tapestries, faded and
worn, swayed from side to side when drafts from the cracks in the
castle came through. The castle was in need of repair. The queen said
so often. But Sally liked it. It was queer in a way to like a cold
winter night. Those nights made Sally feel cozy. The drafts, chipped
plaster, faded paint, and worn tapestries showed history. Sally
didn't know why her mother couldn't see that.

One
particular tapestry had a picture of a rainbow on it. The jewels sewn
into it gleamed in the afternoon sun. Inside the tapestry with the
hidden meaning, something that Sally couldn't get. She found it
mysterious.

When
she got to her lessons, Sir Leih was waiting.

“You
are two seconds late! Princesses are never late nor early!” He
scolded.

“Sorry.”
Sally mumbled as she opened her book, The
Complete Guide to Manners for Complete and Utter Dummies.
She took a fake cover and put it on “Astronomy Action”.

Suddenly,
there was a bang, crash, boom, and then screams.

Sally
heard, “Hiss arg neh deer tsa.” Since she had read the
“Dictionary of Dragons” (it was her favorite book), she knew what
had happened. A dragon had come.

“Dragons
don’t kill. They killed only if something has been taken from their
hoard.” She thought.

Sally
heard yells of no, gasps, and silence. “Maybe it is gone.” Sally
hoped. She listened to the silence. No. It wasn't. She wasn’t
fooled. Then she heard the sound of wings, and knew it had left.

She
ran to the throne room and asked, “Is everyone alright?” All of
the maids gathered in the room looked panicked and scared. Then a
young kitchen hand burst out crying.

“The
king and queen are gone! The dragon was huffing and puffing, and then
he, he.”

An
older and more experienced maid said, “What she means is the dragon
took them.”

“We
don’t know why!” said the younger maid, still sobbing. Sally was
dumbfounded!

“My
parents are gone! Are Rebekah, Anne, and Shirly alright?” Sally
asked solemnly.

“All
three of them are safe. They were in the fitting room at the time.
Thirty one more silk gowns. For your Great Aunt's ball next summer.
Each.” A maid said. Sally did the math in her head.

“Ninety
three more gowns! Poor seamstresses!” Sally said.

“Why
weren’t you there?” Amaid the laundress said.

“I
was at my lessons.” Said Sally still shocked. The maids knew they
could question Sally because she was a friend to all of them.

Please don't copy anything. Thanks.