The Royal Bride

O' girl born to royalty From the moment of birth, Preened for the aristocracy Prospect to a King's loyalty- Fed from another's breast Mother was busily searching for your future husband's crest. Princess's every movement planned, even to whom would be given her hand. Aged of thirteen years, a fountain of ideas were becoming hers. Learned in languages, yet to never have a tongue Driven to madness O' so very young. "All that is expected of thee is to be wife and Queen, in this land of unity. Bear sons and speak not a whit, after all... you are but a woman, silly twit." Her Father, the King explained that eve 'fore her nuptial. "But Father, I know not even who he is!" The frightened Princess softly spoke. Yet the argument was always the same. She was to wed the King of a strange land, to go with him as always planned. She was to forge the union of Kingdoms. To do as told and enjoy all that is grand. The day of the Union, she met her betrothed, walking down the isle He stood there , some fifty years old, large, pasty, expectant and with a vulgar smile. And all her fears, even within her young years- drove her instantly mad. In a rage, she died then and there rather than to be locked in her Royal cage. For there can be no Juliet without her Romeo