Flower on my knee

                                     My latest work of flower art upon my lint littered knee.

Xenolilly

Day of Truth

"Have you come to fight me Princess?" Asked Jubal in long drolling tone.
''I need to know how to rule, and you are the possessor of knowledge. Since you refuse to restore the books in the Library. I must take the information from you." I stated.
"Look at you armor and everything... everything but a weapon. I suppose that's why you're here. What would you like? Would you like a sword? A dagger perhaps? No. You're a Queen as you say. You need a broad sword."
Jubal lifted a large broad sword off of its mount on the wall. He wielded it with ease. He flipped it in the air and handed handle first to me. I felt myself shake. This was a two handed broadsword, obviously much too heavy for me to carry let alone fight with. My thoughts raced. Should I try to take it? How do I deny it? Why am I shaking? How will I not look foolish? This whole thing is foolish. I can't fight this man, but how else am I to get him to speak, and speak the truth? As I thought these thoughts Jubal scoffed and placed the broadsword back in its place.
"Little Princess, I'd say it is time for you to go home." Said Jubal mock sweetly.
"I can't go. Not even if I wanted to." I said with tears welling up in my eyes.
"But I tell you can. There is a great stone circle just outside the city. Stand on it at the right time of day, and world keeper will grant you passage home. It's that simple. No more confusion for you little dear. Just homework, but you can ask a tutor to help you out with that. No more little lives depending on you. Just look after yourself. You won't be hurting anyone that way, and in your own small way you can make your own world better. Now how does that sound?" Asked Jubal.
"Leave my people alone with you? No."
"Yes, your presence makes them so much safer." Jubal bellowed sarcastically. "We're at the brink of war, a portion of your people are enchanted, and the rest live in terror, hiding in their houses by their night lights. They don't need you. If anything you make things worse."
I remembered the looks on the children's faces before they vanished. It was the look of horror and betrayal. They had so much faith that I would keep them safe. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean to let that happen. I wished that I was better. I wished that I was someone else. Someone more worthy of being Queen. Then just when I would have despaired, a feeling gripped my heart. I was given this task. Be it a mistake or not it is mine. I am the one that fails or succeeds, and no one will rob me of that.
"This is my kingdom. My destiny, and you have no place in it." I said standing tall, but still shaking.
"That would be difficult." Jubal smiled a wide smile, and wider, and wider. His smile stretched so far that his face tore into two. Underneath his broken face was another face.
"The statues!" I gasped.
Slowly all of Jubal's rubbery body peeled away. What was left was my own ugly image.
"I told you. I made them of you at your best. Not as the simpering idiot who flies about like a bird."

Cloudy Day

"Jubal, I need to know how to clean the blotted out books in the Library." I commanded on one overcast day.
"There is no need for that. Little Princess, anything you wish to know from those books I can tell you." He replied.
"I want to know for myself." I said irked.
"It hurts that you do not trust me." He mewed. "I have never betrayed you, and if you had kept to my advice, the Fay would have been appeased by now. Instead not only are they against you but the dwarves have renounced you.  The Mer-people laugh at you, and your own people fear you."
I was fully aware of the situation. Jubal's intent was to torment rather than to inform, and he succeeded. How was I to get out of this mess? My mind was filled with discouragement, as I tried again, in vain, to clean the old library books.
"You have no choice you know." Whispered Minkyoung. "You must get the information from Jubal."
I shake my head.
"There has to be another way. He's the devil incarnate. Nothing good can come from him. Even good thoughts become twisted and wrong." I counter.
"I don't mean for you to ask him for it. I mean for you to take it." She explained.
She looked at me with her shining deep set eyes. There was so much hope there. A hope that I would understand. That I'd know how to follow her plan. I had seen that look enough that the mere glimpse of it filled my heart with remorse for my inadequacy. However, I had to try. I had to fight.
I glided to my room. I was immediately greeted by my ladies in waiting. They changed me out of my gown and into a long silk shirt and slacks. The silk was spider silk. the strongest and rarest material in the world. Over that attire they placed cotton padding. They pulled my hair back in a high tight braid, before they finally pulled chain mail over my head, and clasped plate armor over the chain mail. The ladies assured me that it was the lightest armor available, and yet I felt terribly encumbered. It had to be endured. I had to be ready for whatever was ahead. There were no weapons in my suite. I had to make a long trek to the armory. Jubal was there to greet me.

A Day with the Fairy Queen

I paced before the gate to the gardens. The Queen of the Fay people herself was to meet me there. I paused to peer over the gate. Inside, little babies slept nestled inside cabbage plants. I'd say they were adorable, but... there sleep was too sound. A sense of dread filled me like nothing would wake them. Suddenly, the woman I was waiting for appeared behind me.
"I see you care for the children."
I turned to see the Queen of the Fay. She shimmered in a dress made of wild water's foam, pink crystals, and bubbles. Her voice was ethereal and soothing, and her very presence radiated warmth and goodness. My response to her got caught in my throat. I stood before her soundlessly mouthing words, like a fish on land.
"Do not fear me. We are peers you and I." She cooed.
"I'm overwhelmed. You look like a dream, like a memory from my childhood." I stammered.
"It is right for you to think so. I care for all children. That is why I enchanted the wee babes. A queen is to protect the children, and not use them for political gain." She said firmly.
"I had no direct part in what happened that night. That doesn't absolve my guilt, but it is the truth. I will do everything in my power to set things right." I said earnestly.
She lowered her eyes. I saw flecks of sparkles on her long lashes. Her thoughts seemed to take her far away from me.
"I believe you believe that, but that simply is not true." She whispered.
"It is true!" I implored. "I had no desire for any of people to come to any harm. I will do whatever it takes to succeed."
Her eyes flashed up at me.
"Put Jubal back in the dungeon, and throw away the key." She commanded.
Anguish filled me. I never ordered his release. (I didn't know how.) How was I to put him back? Jubal himself claimed it was impossible, and he was my sole source of knowledge. I choked back tears as I said, "I would if I could."
"Then the children shall sleep. I'd enchant every child in your country. If I had the authority to do so. I am full of sorrow for you. There is no hope for this world if you cannot come to your senses."
With those words, the Queen vanished. Leaving me alone with my anguish and shame.

My Latest Sculpture

The Day of Pain

All my life, I've either gone to weep on my bed or an isolated corner somewhere unseen. Yet that day of pain, in Mist world, I am not some random female needing to hide her tears. I was Queen of the Children, Princess of Souls, Duchess of the seas, and Empress of the Lands. They would know my grief. I sat straight up on the polished throne. I wore my diadem, and let the tears fall. They splattered on my dress.
"Your majesty, consider the moral of the people." Whispered Grayson.
"I have. They must know I made a mistake, and that I mourn for it." I replied.
"Yes, but tears do not solve problems." Said Grayson gently.
"Am I to be escorted home now? Since, I've failed?" I asked.
Before Grayson could answer the doors smack open at the opposite end of the room. Out strode Jubal, his black coat glossy, and shimmering as he moved. His face too seemed to have layer of gloss over it. It reminded of dead people touched up for their funerals. He grinned widely at me.
"Success! The darkling forces have kept their end of the bargain. They have retreated, and will gladly swear their allegiance to you in the twelfth month."
My tears stopped. A coldness gripped my heart. I hated him more than I had ever hated anyone, but he did not hold the lions share of my anger. I held that for myself. Ultimately, I was to blame. This truth did not quench my hatred for Jubal.
"My children have suffered." I uttered.
Jubal tossed his right hand in the air. Disregarding my words.
"Do not disrespect the Queen." Commanded Grayson.
"Your highness, if you are worried about the children, don't be. They are safely nestled in the gardens likely being reborn as we speak." Said Jubal poison-sweet.
"The gardens have been placed under a sleeping spell. In addition, its gates have been locked with an enchantment. The Fay folk are angry. They sent me word that the children will not be reborn so long as we have such ties with the Darkling forces." I spat out each word. Sickened by the fact that he remained my advisor.
"The Fay must be appeased. Diplomacy is a process. I'll ready the appeasement at once." Said Jubal lightly. Nothing ever worried him.
"No. Your role is to advise. Not lead. This is my country not yours. I may be ignorant, but I know what you authorized last night was not right. I will handle the Fay." I commanded.
Jubal's face steeled and widened. His long fingers brushed his hair out of his eyes. This motion made some of the gloss fall like crumbs from his face. He spoke.
"Princess Annabelle, understand that there is no putting me back into that dungeon. I am here to stay."

Mourning for the trees

My Father and two of my uncles own a farm. It's incorporated now. I'm not sure what all that entails, but it seems like my Dad's quarter of the farm is less influential. The Uncle that owns half of the farm makes all of the decisions. I suppose that is fit considering his share. However I was truly grieved about his most recent "improvement" to the farm. He decided that there wasn't enough land to grow crops. So he felled half of our forest. The trees were bulldozed. This injured them to the point where they won't be useful for much more than woodchips. Many of these trees were at least many decades old. (They were full grown, when I was a baby twenty five years ago.) I'm guessing that many of them were well over one hundred.
These beautiful enduring giants were knocked down for no great purpose. The farm grows corn to feed the cows. It is not sold. It's not even good for the cows to eat. Grass and alfalfa is far better for them. None working at the farm will receive a pay raise, but the cows will have more corn. That's like knocking down a forested park, in a poor neighborhood, to build a fast food place. Admittedly, that's a worse crime. However, I cannot help but to feel just as sick. that forest was home to many wild animals. It was a refuge. Now most of it is gone.
I am sorry trees. I am sorry that you didn't live to your fullest extent. I am sorry that your corpses were not used to their fullest extent. That you'll never again hold birds nests in your branches, or bunnies burrows in your roots. That you won't live on as a table or house. I am so very sorry. I mourn for your deaths. Trees are amazing creatures. Alive like any other plant, but with more longevity, and purpose above all others. They clean our air most efficiently. Their leaves nurture the soil.  Their branches hold life. Even at times human life. (Who doesn't love a tree house?) Upon your death, paper, buildings, boats, furniture, and art work can be made from you. Not to mention, your nut and fruit bearing brethren. They provide food each season. Air, food, shelter, and beauty this is what a tree provides. Dear trees, you are crucial to human life. I will strive to prevent the rest of your forest from being destroyed. I hope too that those reading this will fight for the trees in their community as well.

The Day that Ended

It was relieving to have Jubal with me. Not only did he answer my questions, but he ran everything for me. I didn't have to lift a finger. It was so much fun watching plays in the Castle Theatre. I watched Hamlet with actual ghosts. I was in a right bright mood when I came across Jubal outside the Library's second floor entrance.
"Jubal! It's good to see you. I wanted to thank you for the past few days. It's been so much fun."
"Fun is fun, but do you know what is better?" He asked.
"Tell me, oh advisor."
"Work accomplished. Of course, I save all of that for myself. We should step outside. I want to show you all the good work I've been doing."
"Oh your work in the city? Yes, I've heard tell of it. The ghosts are so much more sociable since you've come. I understand you've added some statues. I look forward to seeing them."
"Let's see them now."
I glanced out the large paned glass window. The sun is starting to set. I sucked in my lips and looked back at Jubal.
"I'm afraid it is dusk, and against the rules to go out at night. I wouldn't want to break security protocol."
"It's against the rules to open the great door at night, but there is another way outside. If we take that exit we won't be breaking the rules."
"I'm fairly certain we must remain on castle grounds." I argued.
"This way is still part of the castle. It's on a balcony."
I couldn't really argue with him. I couldn't argue with anyone for long. Jubal guided me across an invisible walkway above the great door. It was amazing to cross. Upon close  inspection I could see that it wasn't invisible at all. It was instead perfectly camouflaged. In the middle of the walk Jubal undid a clasp in the window, from there we stepped out onto the balcony. The city was lovely in the light of the setting sun. I shifted on my feet. It didn't seem right to be out this close to night. Jubal outstretched his arm out toward a new statue. (He stretched it longer than any mortal man.)
"There, beyond that house in that little square that is the nearest statue to the castle."
"Who's it a statue of? I don't recognize the person."
"Why it is you my Princess."
"Eek, I didn't know I looked like that."
"It is your best likeness."
I shake my head. "I hope not. What's the point of them? I don't want statues of me ugly or pretty."
"I can have them removed as you like, but not until they have served their purpose this night."
"Night. Yes, it is nearly night. I must go inside. I don't want to risk my people. Thanks for showing me the balcony and everything."
I felt Jubal's mighty grasp on my shoulder. His hands were like pinchers. A sharp pain reverberated through my body. Tears began to drop from my eyes, but it hurt too much to scream.
"I want you to see Princess. I want you to look to the statues. Observe the houses around them. What do they all have in common?"
The shadows grew longer and longer as the sun dipped lower and lower. My eyes strained to see the squares that held the statues. The houses... they all had balconies, and on the balconies were little children. Jubal explained.
"You see children always find loopholes. They are not smart enough to live by wisdom, but oh do they follow by example."
The last bit of sunshine slipped over the horizon, and the children remained on their balconies. The nearest one's waved at me. I couldn't call out to them. I was numb. If I could I would have told them to run. I would have told them to lock themselves inside, but I couldn't do anything. I just watched, but I before that I heard. I heard the howls of the darkling army. In my mind, I tried to tell myself that no one ever dies, and that there was nothing to fear, but I was afraid, and I knew what was coming. Ghoulish creatures fast and foul landed upon each statue in the city. One by one, I saw the children perish. The screams were terrible, but they were not from the children. They disintegrated before they could let out their cry. No, it was the creatures wretched screams of delight, and anguish.
 "Listen to that little Princess. They hope so much for blood,for young fresh blood. They never succeed. The children's defense mechanisms save them, but I warned them of that when I made this deal with them." He laughs. "I can tell by that wide eyed look you're surprised. Don't be. I had to pacify the darkling nation for you. It was my duty. Now watch as they have their fun."

Clean Day

Out of the depths of the castle came Jubal. His black coat gleamed in the brightly lit castle. He strutted the halls, and where ever he went ghosts revealed themselves. There was no hiding from him. He showed me around the castle. Any question I had, he freely gave me answers. I found he wasn't so scary. Where ever we went he carried a silver chalice filled with purple wine. He drank and drank it, but he never got drunk and he never ran out.
"Trust me little Princess. I can handle the diplomatic situation. War in this world is just a bunch of yelling. No one ever dies here. War is just plain silly."
"That's right. No one does die here. In war how do they discern a winner?"
"War is never about death. It's about will. Who has the will to win? How much are they willing to sacrifice to achieve that end? Do you have the will to win, little Princess?"
"I don't know. I've never done anything like this before."
"So you haven't. You were always a coward. So frightened of me that you couldn't sleep. Couldn't run. You couldn't even cry out to your parents to save you." Jubal leered over me. He smiled. "Then again I never did hurt you did I? What I did do was teach you a lesson about how capable I am at breaking other's wills. Trust me, when I am in command of the army no will shall be stronger than mine."
"Your place is to advise me. You're not to be the head of the army." I argued.
"Grayson told you that. Must you always do what your servant tells you to do?"
"He knows this place better than I do."
"Ah, yes, but I know it better than him. I can tell you the name of every creature in this world. I can show you every secret passage. I know every weakness, strength, and quirk of this world. I can tell you personal details about other's lives. Grayson can show you how to polish silver." He raised up his wine. "But all this is just words. I can show you." He said pouring out his wine upon the ground.
Below us ghosts appeared soaking up the wine in sponges. They trembled at Jubal's feet, but they were determined to do their duty and keep the castle clean.

Delivery Day

The candles on the candelabra smoldered. Their once ivory wax was now a venomous purple. Grayson placed them back to where they were. He cooed over them. Telling them that they would heal. (Apparently, candles heal here.) He had released his grip on me, but never the less he urged me onward, up out of the cellars. I kept close to him, because without him, I had no idea how I'd find my way out of the twists and turns.
"Is there something else your majesty requires of me?" Asked Grayson.
"I'm following you out of here. I'm lost without you."
"Did you learn nothing from Jubal?"
"You didn't give me a chance to learn anything!"
Grayson stopped. I could discern great bags of worry beneath his eyes. It seemed that something much greater than butler duties weighed on his heart.
"Ma'am, if you do not remember your authority soon then Jubal will be released. If that happens... God help us all."
His severe earnestness hit me hard. It must be truly important, but how can I know stuff I don't know? I never went to school for this. I don't recall having supernatural royal parents. I ended up asking Minkyoung if their was such a thing as the best ghost therapist to help me recall suppressed memories. She found that very amusing. Doctors and the like do serve, but they seldom become ghosts here. In this world no one is ever sick. There is no need for there services.
"I suppose if they do come to this realm they come in some other form." I muttered.
Minkyoung shimmered at these words, and Grayson was much perkier for the rest of the week. Sadly, this did not last. Mid way through that following week Grayson delivered me urgent news.
"I have received word from the Darkling Kingdom. Their King 'regretfully' demands that, due to your impaired mental capacity, your adviser must be set in place. You are to comply with his wishes or it is to be war."
"And my adviser is to be Jubal."
Grayson wiped ghostly sweat from his brow. He placed his frilly handkerchief in his breast pocket and looked into my eyes.
"If only you could have realized that sooner."

Dungeon Day

Deep below the depths of the soil, in the heart of the dungeon, we found Jubal. He was in a cage within a cage within a cage. His arms and legs were shackled to the solid stone floor. An ever burning torch hung on the bars was his only light. There was no sign of a toilet, or source of water or food.
"Is he starving to death down here?" I inquired disturbed.
"He cannot die. No one in this world does." Uttered Mr. Gray quietly.
At the sound of Mr. Gray, Jubal looked up at us. Although his hair hung in his face his eyes still burned bright and clear. A wry teethed smile crept across the corner of his mouth. He laughed a low guttural laugh.
"Oh Grayson, she must have put up quite a fight to get you down here." He paused. "Unless you have your own reasons." He laughs again this time stronger. "She doesn't know does she? HA! I did my work well, and you said my trips to Earth would be for nothing."
"You get ten minutes to speak to her majesty. No more." Barked Mr. Gray.
Jubal's eyes rolled about in his head as he leaned his head back. His arms stretched as he pulled at the shackles, like his body was made of rubber. Gray coaxed me to ask him my questions, but his image was too much. He was a living nightmare, but I had to speak to him. Jubal began gargling and bellowing gruesome humanoid sounds.
"Excuse me." I said.
"You're excused." Said Jubal with the sound of a water drop behind him.
"There is water in your cell then."
"Yes, polluted water. You've been offering me little droplets of it. Just enough to torture me."
"I don't understand."
"Obviously."
"Why are you a prisoner here?"
"Why should I answer you?"
Mr. Gray's icy hand grips my arm. I swallow a gasp. He tells me to speak firmly with him or else he won't answer a single question.
"As your Queen, I command you to answer me!"
He grinned and stretched out his neck. His head smacked onto the bars of his cage.
"That's better. Little Princess."
"Princess? I am Princess of souls. Does that mean you are a ghost?"
"Nice. You've learned a little bit, but ultimately you're an idiot. What does Grayson address you as?"
"Queen, but that's due to formality. I am Queen of this land. Therefore in this land I ought not to be called anything else."
"Did he tell you that?" He asked twisting his head toward Mr. Gray.
"No." I shook my head.
"Then how did you know? I am certain it is not in any of my lovely books."
"I... I...I just knew."
"Indeed you did." Smiled Jubal slowly easing his neck back in place. "Imagine all, I could illuminate in you."
"That's enough Jubal. We're leaving now." Said Mr. Gray.
"That wasn't ten minutes Grayson." Argued Jubal.
"Ten minutes was the maximum. Come along Ma'am." Ordered Mr. Gray.
Once again, I felt his icy hand. He hurried me along as though his feet had wings. It took me time to realize that we were both in flight. Up over the steps and through the iron door. It slammed behind us on its own accord.

One argument per day please

"Off limits? I don't even know why Jubal is in prison! No one tells me anything. You tell me I need to prepare for diplomatic relations. That I need to prove to them that I know what I'm doing, but guess what I don't! This place is insane. I'm suppose to be the Queen when in reality ghost soldiers and a dictator butler is running this place, and I don't even know why. The only place I've found a free flow of information is from these books, and the one thing they all have in common is Jubal. I know he's scary looking ,but he has never harmed me. However, you Mr. Gray have given me this tremendous responsibility and have offered me very little help."
My outcry made several ghosts pop into focus around me. They had been reading invisibly, but my rage had perked their curiosity enough to make them lose their grip on that ability. Mr. Gray too looked quite solid before me. His hard face seemed to have some cracks in it. He spoke.
"If her majesty wishes to rewrite the security protocol. She may of course do so, and visit the man in black. However, I did not become the best butler to have ever lived, by not giving sound advice. I advise you ma'am to not speak with Jubal. He does have much knowledge, but all of the knowledge he has also lives in you, the true Queen. I am uncertain as to why you have not discovered it."
"Maybe, I'm not the true Queen. You might have picked up the wrong person." I replied.
"No, you must be." Chirped Minkyoung. "Only the Queen has wings like a bird and yet is not a bird."
I sat down at a reading table. I rested my head on my hand. Slowly, the ghosts around me faded back into invisibility. I envied them. Mr. Gray left me there, but he shortly returned with pen and paper in hand. He explained to me how to rewrite the security protocol. He advised that I limit my visits and time spent on each visit with Jubal. I agreed to those terms. I then asked him where I could find the castle dungeons. He gestured for me to follow him. Out from the Library, and down several narrow corridors, and flights of stairs we went. It turned out there were several layers of cellars. Each cellar was a labyrinth in and of itself. Down and down went father and farther. Until finally we came upon a tarnished iron door at the end of an arched brick hallway. Barely visible beneath the tarnish were words in ancient languages. Dark words unspoken for millennia. I felt a chill go up my spine. It was that important to meet Jubal? No. I had to face him. He was just frightening. I couldn't die of fright. Mr. Gray picked up a near by candelabra. It was then I realized that everywhere in the castle had been well lit. Even the cellars. Now Mr. Gray needed to light our way. Behind the iron door was cold winding stone steps. The light from the candles barely lit each step as we moved. I searched for some sense of security, but I found none outwardly. I had a ghost as my companion through a creepy dungeon. Inside, I prayed. I prayed like I did as a child in the dark.

Sunny Days

The next few days, I was able to go out among the people. Security protocol dictated that the doors to the castle remained closed from before sunset to sunrise. However, when the sun shined I was able to see my people. They were all so very young. I understood fully why they are the child-like people. No one was older than their mid-teens. At least not in looks. Everyone plays all day long. I think the economy must have lived off of laughter. I confess, I felt like a little child again myself. There was no cares or sorrows, but I learned that there still was fear. An hour before the sun set, everyone is hurried out of the streets. Legions of ghost soldiers hurry all of the children into their homes. No one must be outside after dark. I had the audacity of arguing with one such solider as he shuffled me back to the castle.
"Does not the city have walls?" Are we not protected by you soldiers? Are you not the best soldiers that ever lived?"
"Your majesty, the neighboring nations are powerful, and they have yet to pledge themselves to you. Your safety keeps the people safe. Please understand that."
I spent many days trying to understand that. I studied with Minkyoung. She was a great help. I learned that the city walls could hold back the dwarves. They had crafted them years ago and would not dare to use explosives against it. They would dig beneath it, and that would take an astronomical amount of time. The houses are protected by night lights against darkling forces, and the ghost troops patrol the city at all times. Nearly, always invisible. The Castle itself was an impenetrable fortress with one weakness. I couldn't read what that weakness was, because that page had been blotted out. Minkyoung said it had always been like that. She explained that only Jubal knew how to clean them.
"How is it that a prisoner knows so much? Why was he the one that brought me here? Do we have any books about that?"
"Yes." Nods Minkyoung. "Except they are blotted out too."
I sigh.
"I'm not allowed to release Jubal...But maybe I can go visit him. Where is the prison? Is it out in the city?"
"The prison is within the dungeon in the bowels of the Castle, and that is off limits." Declares Mr. Gray.

Library Day

Minkyoung told me where I could find the previous Queen's journals. They were upon a high shelf built into the top most portion of the Library wall. There was no ladder to it. I'd have to fly. It then occurred to me that I had no idea how to open my wings. Yesterday, when I flew it was all on instinct. I took a breath and concentrated. I remembered what it felt like, and transitioned it to real movement. I began to feel feathers.
"Not  here!" Screamed Minkyoung.
Startled, I nearly fell over.
"Why not? How else am I suppose to get to the shelf?"
"If you spread your wings out between these shelves you'll knock them over, Ma'am."
I'd forgotten how big my wing span was. Minkyoung guides me out into the reading area. She gestures to the tables. I climb atop of one. I release my wings, and flutter them. This causes great gusts of air.
"Try not to fly too much. Just get to the top of the book shelves and hop from one to another until you are to the far wall and then fly up to the wall shelf." Minkyoung advised.
I gladly followed it. It was a fun experience to hop atop book shelves, and then finally inside the one in the wall. There I found several dozen bound journals. There were three different kinds. I took one of each back with me to the reading tables. That's when terrible disappointment set. Each diary was written in a language unknown to me. I only recognized two of them. One appeared to be Greek, and the other Egyptian hieroglyphics. The third I did not recognize at all.
"Why did they bother to keep journals if they can never be read!" I cried.
"Of course they were read. They were read by those that wrote them. That's the point of a journal." Comforted Minkyoung.
"I should just be happy that you speak English."
"English? Oh not enough to boast about. I barely know it at all." Laughed Minkyoung.
"I think you speak it fluently." I argued.
"Oh no. Don't forget you hear with royal ears. All your subjects speak your language to you. Even if they do not know it."
"Royal ears can understand, but royal eyes cannot? Why shouldn't I be able to read the Queen's journals?"
"They aren't your subjects."
I place the journals back on their shelves. What girl wants her journals read by a stranger anyway? However, helpful they may be. At least, I have Minkyoung. She truly is an able Librarian. She knows where every book is. Together we read about the research done on the people of souls. Commonly called ghosts. I found it interesting that all of the ghosts here are not from here. They are from Earth like me. All of the souls were service people, and they all loved their work. I read about the origins of other people groups too. The mermaids sprang up from deep underground waters. Likewise the Dwarves came out of rocks, and the children come up out of Gardens.
"How can any of these accounts be true? Is no one born in this world?" I asked.
"I can't say I've ever seen or heard of a baby born to this world. Not in an Earthly sense. Besides Jubal is an expert in these matters." Said Minkyoung tapping a book's cover.
I looked at the books authors. They all were different, but they had one thing in common. Each one was edited by Jubal.

A Fresh New Day

I awoke after less than a handful of hours. I told my ladies I needed to be awake no later than eight. Today their hair was yellow-gold, and their dresses off white. They dressed me in a backless dress in case I wanted to take flight. I ate a breakfast of fruit, and I questioned my ladies once more.
"You're not ghost servants, like Mr. Gray. You're quite solid, and yet there is something magical about you three. You really have no idea of your names?"
"We are whoever you need us to be. We are here to look after you." Explains the oldest one again.
"Who is it that always takes care of me?" I wonder out loud.
I gaze into the newly placed full length mirror. Mr. Gray had it sent up for me. The ladies did an excellent job dressing me. It's like they know me better than I know myself.
I decided that I would do research in the library that day. Mr. Gray had informed me that the previous Queen's journals, and all the information that the world had to offer was kept there. Sadly, the Library had no cataloguing system. I spent hours combing through titles. Eventually, I had enough and cried, "Is there a librarian in the house?"
Immediately one appeared. She was a little silvery woman. Her hair hung down just below her chin and hugged her face. She held several small books close to her chest, hidden behind her arms. She hovered next to me. Waiting for me to speak.
"Can you help me find the previous Queen's journals? Oh and forgive me for barking out orders. All this weirdness and pressure gets the best of my manners. What's your name? Please have one."
"I am Minkyoung. I am the greatest Librarian that ever lived."
I perceived her clothes. They were 20th century at least. She must have died fairly recently.
"A contemporary woman has beat out all the elderly men that have ever existed."
She smiles. The silver glints around her lips.
"I did replace an elderly Polish man. He was brilliant, and bowed out gracefully. He still works here of course, but he no longer is summoned."
"So I only get the best that ever lived? Why, because I am the Queen?"
"In part. We serve the Queen to honor us. Not you. It is our reward. This is our after life. We served so well in life that we get to do it in death."
"You never wanted to be anything other than a Librarian?"
"I.... I don't know. When we die, we are stripped down. We lose certain qualities about ourselves. Like for instance, I believe I used to have black hair and olive skin. Now I am this. Merely, a shade of what I once was."
"I'm so sorry."
"Don't be. I am happy. I have the best books in the world, and now I have someone alive to read them."
Somehow, finding out about my predecessors seemed less urgent. Minnkyoung was more willing to talk about personal issues than Mr. Gray. How often does one get to talk to a person who is dead?
"What's it like to die? Does it hurt?"
She sways, like a buoy in the sea.
"I don't have any personal knowledge."
"But you said that at death you were stripped down. Can you tell me what that is like?"
"No. I can't remember. I learned about what happens to Ghosts in these books. It was like learning about being a baby in the womb. I believe it happened, but I have no memory. Your majesty will do well to study here. You'll learn what you need to know."

The Lesson that lasted until Day

"Alright, I'm ready. What do have to teach me."
The Gray man smiled.
"First of all you need to start observing things closer. You act as though you don't know who your subjects are when I've already told you. At your coronation, I informed you of your realm. You are the Princess of Souls. That's my people and all of the other servants of the great castles."
"So like all four of you?"
The Gray man frowns.
"The Castle is full of thousands upon thousands of the finest servants that ever lived."
"Well, where are they?" I laughed as I asked.
"They are all over the castle. The finest servants are unseen."
"There is a difference between unseen and invisible." Commented the oldest lady in waiting.
My three ladies hair is now white and their dresses a light yellow gold.
"You can turn invisible. Can't you?" I asked in earnest.
"All ghosts can."
I involuntarily gasp.
"Quite. Now that's clear, let's continue. You're the Grand Duchess of the seas."
"Where the mermaids are."
"Mer-people. Don't forget the men folk, and the sea serpents."
I nod. Part of me really wants to believe all this is true. Who doesn't want to live in a magical world? However, the other part of me wants to remain skeptical in case this is all a big joke on me. That it's some kind of new reality TV show. Mr. Gray continues.
"As the Queen of the children, you are the sovereign ruler of this country. No where in the world is your power more absolute than it is here." He points to the south western corner of the continent.  "The children cannot protect themselves. They are totally reliant upon you. The other countries are under your dominion, but they require a firm hand to keep in check. The Fay folk will abandon you if they think you don't hold the light." He points to a large forest to the north. "On the other hand, the darkling people will not heed you if you glow so bright that you will not speak to them." He gestures to a nearly barren land even farther north. "Likewise the dwarves are stubborn and unwilling to even receive word from a ruler they do not respect." He taps the top of the miniature mountains. "The Daimyo's of the north east have the league of dragons at their disposal, and the hidden mirror land reflects the confines of your heart. That's scary business. Even our close ally in the south east is wedged between the plain of monsters and the city of thieves."
"What can I do all about this tonight?" I questioned
"Merely, touch the map, and set the mood for diplomacy."
Literally? How did touching the map help? I gaze down at it. The closer I look, the more details I see. The Enchanted forest where the Fay live is gorgeous. It shimmers with magic. A long river runs through it, and all the way down into my country. I place my left fist to my mouth. I breathe into it all my love for beauty, magic and whimsy. I open that hand and touch its place on the map. The Enchanted Forest on the map glows pink. Mr. Gray gives an approving nod. He stays with me all through the night. I even send good will to the thieves, and the isolated shape shifters of the north. Outside, the sky is brightening in the light of pre-dawn. I asked him if there was anything else that urgently needed to be done. He answered.
"Keep the prison locked. Don't let Jubal out. Not for anything."
"Who's Jubal?" I asked. (I asked him so many questions.)
"Jubal, is the man in black, and I am Grayson by the way."

The Night after the Day

The old gray man escorted me back to my suite.  There my three ladies greeted me. Their hair was now brown and their dresses black. They hugged me upon my entry. The gray man pushed them aside, and compelled me into the adjoining room. It was huge, like the bedroom, but unlike the bedroom it was decorated with paintings and tapestries. It had one large round table with a topographical map on it. The old man explained.
"This is a map of this world called Mist. It is no ordinary map as you can see. It is three dimensional. You can see all of the valley's and rivers. It is a road map, and it shows all the borders, and cities. It has everything you need to know."
"Is there a road back to my world? The planet Earth?" I asked.
"No. No Road. Your majesty you must start taking your work seriously. I must say your predecessor was much more prepared than you are." Commented Mr. Gray.
"Please, then enlighten me on what I must do to complete my task here." I implored.
"First, you must set up diplomatic relations with the neighboring countries. Remember you are only Empress over them. Their regional leaders must be kept appeased. You are not due to meet with them until the 12th month, but until then you can set up proclamations that will set the tone for your entire rule. The same goes for the prison rules. As far as security goes, I must press that you maintain it as it is until diplomatic relations have been settled. I don't want another undead Queen on my hands."
"Are you telling me the last Queen got turned into a Zombie?" I cried.
"What nonsense! There is no such things as Zombies."
How was suppose to know that? In that world, I had wings, that man was translucent in the light, and  the man in black, from my nightmares, lived there. I didn't know what the rules were. If I had it would have been much more fun. Obviously, every question I asked Mr. gray irked him, but he was my only source of information. I had to find out more.
"Sir, I don't know why I am here. I don't know how I got here. Please have mercy on me, and guide me through this." I pleaded.
To my surprise, Mr. Gray puffed up his chest, and nodded.
"I'll give you one lesson, and if you cannot be the Queen we need by the end of this lesson. I will personally escort you home."

The Blocked Way at the end of the Day

As I stood, before the door, I debated how I was to open it. I'd have to have a ladder to reach the locks. Then it struck me. I asked for water. I got water. I was tired I was given a bedroom. I want this door to open. I took a deep breath. I stood tall, and in my most commanding voice I said. "Open." No one appeared before me, but slowly the locks began to move out of place. With each opening snap, I felt relief sweep over me. I wasn't a prisoner. This was my Castle and it heeded my words. The wood in the doors groaned as it opened outwardly. The floor in front of me was now splashed with the orange light of sunset. Outside, I saw a wide stone terrace, and farther beyond, I saw the end of a wide street lined with regal houses. I swallowed. The street was as empty as the castle, but I had to try to find someone. I took a step toward the door. Then the gray man snapped into my view. I was terribly startled. Not only by his sudden appearance, but by the look of him. He was not just gray, but he was slightly translucent in the light of the setting sun. I didn't get to ask him questions. He instead started dictating to me my trespasses.
"Your majesty, you have neglected your duties. You have not overseen the diplomatic chart. Nor have you set rules for the prison. Now you have broken security protocol by ordering the opening of the doors! I must say for your first day, you aren't doing very well."
Frustration is a very honest f word. How was I suppose to know any of this? No one has told me anything! I don't even know if I'm on planet Earth anymore! This gray old man had no business yelling at me, and I told him so. If he wanted me to know these things then he should have said. Popping a crown on a person, does not mean they know what they are doing. To which he replied, "Obviously."
The man in gray requested me to close the doors, and if I complied he would inform me at least of my duties. I told him the first thing I wanted to know was who he was and why was he see through. The man blushed gray at this. I felt bad. I know better than to remark about others looks. The man moved away from the sunlight, and to the side of the doors. I commanded their closing, and like before, they listened, and readily guided shut.

Wandering Day

After the coronation everyone left. No gray old man. No children. No young people. I was left all alone. I had no idea what to do. So did what I wanted. I explored! I figured the place must have been a castle. I found armories, and galleries. I found columned halls, and sitting rooms. I discovered secret passage ways, and crooked staircases, grand ballrooms, towers, tunnels, and one great Library. However, I did not find one single person. This was very bizarre to me, because everywhere I went was perfectly clean. It had no sign of dust or disrepair. Somebody had to keep this place sparkling.  After hours of searching, I grew thirsty and tired. I said to the castle, "Do you have any drinking fountains?" Lo and behold, a beautiful blond woman appeared. She offered me a crystal chalice filled with water. Her lips were as red as her deep red dress. Instead of taking the water, I bombarded her with questions. Surely she knew something about the place, or why I was there. She shook her flat curls, and said, " I  came to give you a drink you majesty."
I continued to question her, but all I learned that she and her two sisters lived to serve me. I asked her to bring me to her sisters. I thought they might know more. The woman took my hand gently, but swiftly guided me back the way I came. She lead to a room not far behind the balcony. It was a bedroom suite. The room was large, and that's an understatement. The ceiling was 18 feet high up at least. The four poster canopy bed was much larger than a King size, and yet despite its size it did not crowd the room. There was plenty of space between it es on and the dining table that seated six, the wardrobe, and the bookcase that went half way up to the ceiling. The book case was a sad sight. It had no books. I found that more disturbing then the framthe walls that held no images. I asked the woman where her sisters were, and they appeared, standing in the archway to the adjoining suite room. They were beautiful and blond like their sister. Also like their sister they knew nothing about anything. Not even where they were born or their own names. They offered me food, and the use of the suite. They told me it was mine, and no they didn't know how they knew. I felt so sleepy, I had no trouble falling asleep in that enormous bed. When I awoke, hours later, the women were gone. I called out for them and again in an instant they appeared. This time their hair was honey colored and their dresses peach. I asked them if they could find me some walking clothes. They nodded and pulled clothes from the wardrobe. I took off the torn white gown and dressed into the green blouse and brown trousers they offered me. They gave me exactly the sort of clothes I wanted. They really were good at taking care of me, but they had no answers for me. I knew what I had to do. I had to leave the way I saw the people leave earlier that day. The sun was setting outside, but I didn't care. I went down the steps by the balcony, and across that colossal room to the enormous wood and iron doors. Not only were they too large for me to open alone, but I saw that they were locked a hundred times over. A Queen locked in her own castle I whispered to myself.

An Unordinary Day

There I was standing on a balcony, overlooking a massive sea of people in the room below. I turned to flee the scene, because obviously I had nothing to say to them. I didn't even know who they were. Goodness, I didn't even know why I was there! Then I saw the man in black block my path. He asked me, "Don't you want to greet your people?" My stomach turned. "You know this place. It's the place you used to dream about. It is the place you used to believe was real."
I looked at him, and tried to wish him away, but he was just as solid as he was at School. I faced the people again, and placed my hands on the banister. My eyes scanned over dozens of faces. They were such young faces. Their eyes were so full of hope. They waited for me to speak. It was at this moment I realized my clothes had been changed. Instead of my school-day clothes, I was wearing a white gown. Who was I to these people? I look back again to the man. He frowns and pushes me aside. He shouted out to the people.
"It seems the lady is having difficulty recognizing her place with us. Shall I help her remember?"
"Yes!" Cheered the crowd.
At that word, he snatched me up, and held me over his head, before hurtling me at the crowd below. I had no time to think. In seconds, I would have been smashed upon impact on the floor below, but that didn't happen. An instinct took over, and instead of crashing, I flew. The whole back of my gown had ripped out to make way for white feathery wings. The people oohed as I swooped around the room. I couldn't help, but laugh. I had never felt so happy. I felt like flying forever, but fatigue took hold, and I made my way back to the balcony. I landed atop the banister. I was fully confident that even if I fell off of it my wings would save me. I smiled and waved at the people. I was happy that I made them happy. My wings had folded up and evaporated into my back. I hopped back onto the balcony floor. The man was still there. He was now furious and bleeding from his right hand. Concerned, I asked him if I had done anything wrong? He replied, "You did what had to be done, but don't think I am grateful."
Six foggy figures appeared and wrapped themselves around the man in black. In moments, he vanished into the mist. The crowd erupted in cheers. It was overwhelming, before I knew it an old gray man was placing a diadem on my head. He declared, "All hail the Princess of souls, the grand duchess of the seas, the Queen of the children, and the Empress of the lands."
I swore no oath that day. I gave no promise. I didn't even claim to desire those heavy titles. However, some gifts cannot be refused.

Not an Average School Day

It was just another day at college. The student body had assembled together to learn about new student fees. It was an easy place to drift off into a daydream. Ever since I was a child, I've been afraid of a cloaked figure in black. I used to believe he wanted to snatch me out of my room at night. As I sat among my peers, I saw that man again. He wasn't in a cloak, but I knew it was him. He walked among the students to the front of the room. Obviously, I was day dreaming. None of the students acted like they saw this stranger all in black, but why did it feel so real? Mentally, I tried to erase him, but he did not leave my sight. He walked up on the platform where the academic dean stood commenting on the stragglers coming in. The man eyed the dean and then me. Fear swept over me. I gasped so loud I was afraid the whole student body heard, but they didn't. Everyone around me has gasped too. They could see him! He had appeared to them out of thin air! There was some confusion followed by thunderous applause, as the man in black theatrically bowed. I felt my face grow white hot. He was just a magician. I must have seen through his trick. He wasn't a dream at all. The Dean of Students attempted to shoo the man off the platform when the unthinkable happened. Leather clad, machete wielding, men marched in through all the doors to the aid of the man in black. No one was going to take him from that stage. He owned it. It was his. He took the microphone and started moving back and forth across the platform. He came to us for a purpose. We had something he wanted. Well not something...someone. His voice. I had heard it so many times before.
"Don't be coy." He uttered. "I know you know who you are. Come down here and face me."
I sunk down in my seat.
"Fine. I'll call to you. Annabelle."
That moment I severely regretted not going to a larger school. I couldn't hide from him. I never could hide from him, but before that day I always got away. I'd wake up or fall asleep. Depending on if it was a nightmare or a waking terror. This time he was real, and yet as I met him in the flesh I felt no fear. He noticed too.
"You're too much awake. Better change that."
Then something covered my whole frame. I couldn't breathe or see. I thought I was going to die, and maybe I did for a moment. When I came to gasping for breath, my classmates were no longer around me. Instead, I was in front of a much larger crowd, in a much more beautiful place. I went from an ugly ordinary room, in front of 3 hundred, to a gorgeous, enormous place in front of about 3 million. What was I to do?

The Living Dead

When we first roll out of the earth, as newborns, some believe we are alive. That we have beating hearts. Others believe, we are born dead, and need a jump start even in our infancy. I don't really care to debate that nonsense anymore. I exist now only by what can be observed, and when I was young I observed that I had a beating heart. I don't know when it first stopped beating. I don't know if it was something that I did or something someone did to me, but one day, in my youth, it stopped. Once it stopped beating, I became a good deal smellier, and my skin began to peel. I felt so grotesque. It was during this time that I met the Crew.

The Crew are clean cut Zombies. They believe in a man that was born alive and stayed alive until he was murdered, out of vain jealousy, and turned to dust, but it doesn't end there. This man was more than a man, and he proved it by coming back from dust. When he came back from dust; it was more true life than even babies are said to have. Then he left this world telling others how they too can obtain true life. So they can avoid turning into dust that does not rise.

I was very curious about this crew. I wanted to know how they stayed so clean. I learned that they believed that it was important to live as though you are alive. Just as alive as their leader was. I decided to join them. I took off my old clothes and was given new, but before I wore them I was to wash. This wash was suppose to be the entry way to life. There are so many stories about what the wash actually does or doesn't do for you. In fact, there are some members of the crew that do not wash at all. I wasn't apart of that crowd. I washed, and I felt new. Now I didn't actually become new, but my figurative heart felt like it did when I was as a happy child. Every week I'd rejoin with the crew. Together we'd patch up our broken flesh, and renew are blood. I often felt like a weekly patch up was unnecessary. Especially, since we didn't even use real flesh and blood to fix ourselves. It was just symbolic. We'd actually use substitutes. (Although, there are some members of the Crew that believe differently.)

Oh the different beliefs! There are so many! So much arguing and bickering! All the while if you don't believe or practice the right thing you won't receive true life! I confess, I took quite heatedly to the heart of this debate. Could I become undead again? Or once I accepted the promise of life would I keep it no matter what I did? Oh how this used to trouble me! Had I lost my ticket to true life by eating that squirrel brain? Could I never be free of the shackles of life, even if I wanted to be? Does my choice mean nothing? Was I destined to join the Crew? Honestly, sometimes I just wanted to eat a squirrel brain and not worry about losing my life. Not only that, but I began to resent the Crew members. So many of them would close their eyes to others sufferings. Or to the natural order of this world. After all, it is only natural for zombies to eat brains! It was at that thought that it struck me; I was never brought to life. Everything had been symbolism. The washing didn't make my heart beat again. It just made me imagine it. The patch-ups, while they do help to keep my rotting body together. It does not prevent the rot. While I do feel less like a zombie when I abstain from brains. I still want them. My desire has not been taken away. This troubled me greatly.

One day, while stomping through my graveyard, I spotted a tombstone I'd never seen before. It was a stone skeleton with wings like an angel. I presumed it was meant to be the angel of death. In its boney hand it held a knife. It was a real knife made of metal and not stone like that statue. I suppose some teenage zombies put it there for a laugh. It took time, but I managed to pry it from the statues grasp. I asked myself if I was ever alive? When I turn to dust, as all zombies do, will I rise into a living body? No one has ever seen that happen save once, and he is no longer here. Was he ever here to start? Or was he just a myth to comfort us poor walking dead? I took the knife in my hands and cut off all of my patches. The blood was quite messy. I had spoiled my Crew clothes, but I didn't care. If I had ever been alive, then I could die, but I discovered that I was just the same as I ever was. I am and always was a zombie. I felt a mixture of grief and relief. Sad because I spent so many years as a trusting idiot. Relieved because now I don't have to live as something I naturally am not. I'm not alive. I am undead.

Years went by and I spent less time eating brains and more time just lying in my grave. Dust was going to come to everyone. I might as well be ready for it. It was then I heard a knock at my coffin door. It was a member of the Crew. When she saw me she gasped.

“I didn't know. I didn't know you gave up on true life. I am sorry for sounding rude. I was just surprised to see you without your patches.”

“Yeah, look at me without my patches and I've never been better!”

She had real tears in her eyes. This is something not easily done. I had ran into other Crew members before this, but few had shown the level of grief of this girl. They were too busy being angry or indifferent. This Crew member ardently tried to persuade me to return. It was sweet. Pointless, but sweet. I had studied far more thoroughly than her about Zombie anatomy, about history, and the natural order of things. She could only offer me what was in her undead heart. I was kind to her, after all I'm not a monster. The conversation drew to a close when she offered me one last thing.

“I'd like to offer you a patch. I know you don't believe that it'll do you any good, but since you don't believe it won't do you any harm either.”

I felt very agitated at this request. A prerequisite for using a patch is believing in it! I was repelled by the notion of it. I argued with her how it was fundamentally impossible for me to take a patch! Not only that, but she only had a patch and not the fake blood that goes with it. She countered the patch doesn't do anyone any harm, and if I truly didn't believe in the symbol of it. I wouldn't be afraid of it. I scoffed. This was a stupid dare, but I had grown tired of her, and I wanted her to leave. I reached out for the patch only to have her keep it from me.

“I'd like to be the one that patches you, please.”

I rolled my eyes and consented. Moments later, I felt soft little hands on my neck. I once had a large patch there. When I removed it, all those years ago, it gushed quite profusely. The patch latched onto my rotted flesh. I admit that I was moved, but it was a feeling nothing more. At last the Crew member was ready to leave me, but I had one last question for her.

“Why did you pick my neck to patch?”

“Wasn't it obvious?”

I shake my head.

“You were bleeding.”

Dead people don't bleed.

More Princess Adelide

Being a Princess had its days of dull freedom. Days where there were no obligations but also nothing to do. Today was such a day for Adelide. She was free to wander the castle grounds. Halfway down the eastern stair Adelide stopped to listen to the chatter of the gentle ladies. They all wore lurid colors and a large feather in their hair.
"If only I could be a Princess again!" To be provided and cared for, with no work on my part. All play. Sleeping all day..."
"My nanny never let me sleep in late. But is was still nice."
"There are those that stay forever Princesses."
"There are those that become Queen. That would've been nice wouldn't it?"
"Oh it depends on the King."
"What if there is no King?"
"What about your own personal Prince?"
"Oh my. Ha ha"
"Or a stable boy?"
At that thought the whole flock of them burst into riotous laughter and giggles. Adelide lost all interest in them. The ladies of the court always spouted nonsense. Instead Adelide drifted down the great stone corridor. She watched the dance of light and shadow as she passed the empty windows that looked out to the glass roofed hall. Soon the light became more appealing then the shadows, and she made her way into the brightly lit hall.
There she found Patrick playing the onyx baby grand piano. He played a soft gentle tune, accompanied nicely by the sound of the hall's center water fountain. Adeide smiled. Patrick picked up the pace of his song at the sight of it. He thought she was a sweet child, and every musician likes an appriciative audience.
"Won't the water from the fountain hurt the piano?" Asked Adelide.
"I don't think so. I hope not. It was the King's idea that it be placed here." Commented Patrick.
"Yes, this whole hall is new. It used to be an open courtyard." She added.
"Well, new to here. This little baby grand has been in the castle for ages." Patrick said with a glint in his eye.
"Where has it been all of this time? Surely, I never saw her in the concert hall or music room." She wondered.
"Oh, there was a special place for her up in the north tower." Patrick explained.
These words stung at Adelide. Everyone knows that proper castles have towers. And everyone knows that this Castle was not a proper one.
"This castle has no tower." She snapped.
"Oh, are you sure about that?" Asked Patrick with a wry smile.
"It is perfectly obvious this Castle has no tower. I would have found it by now." She asserted.
Patrick moved to the higher keys and attempted to hide his growing delight at Adelide's irritation.
"I am certain of it Patrick! There is no place it could possibly be." She said with obvious strain in her voice.
Patrick moved on to play te lower keys, and had finally managed to suppress his smile and said,
"I don't know, little highness. I was told the tower existed, but I have never been there myself, but I still believe in it."
Adelide was made silent by this. Patrick wasn't and augmentative fellow, nor had she known him to be a liar. She supposed he was trying to tell her some kind of joke. A joke she did not like. Her castle was a low class castle, and no amount of money King Zigfried poured into it would make in a highbrow one. A castle is either built with a tower or not. No amount of wishing can make one appear. Maybe Patrick was trying to teach me a lesson on appreciation. After all the glass hall was beautiful, and Patrick was ever kind. Whatever his reason, the soothing music made Adelide content. She laid her arm down as a pillow for her head and listened until she fell asleep.

Bedtime Story

Since my son was 15 months old I have had a routine for him. It has always helped him get to sleep. I have updated a few times over the years. just recently I let go of the Tickle Story. It used to work like a charm to get him to sleep. but now he is bored of it. So for the parents of the world who have kids that liked to be tickled. Here is a story to help those kids go to sleep at night.

Once upon a time...

there was as a GREAT BIG Castle.

It had turrets and towers, and little flags that would go swoosh in the wind.

Inside the Castle was a teeny weeny Prince and an itty bitty Princess.

The Prince and the Princess loved to be tickled!

So one day the Tickler came, and tickled the Prince and Princess so much that they said "No more tickles! W want to go to bed!

So the teeny weeny Prince and the itty bitty Princess went to their beds and fell fast asleep.

Goodnight.

In case you didn't know. I tickle my kids or kid, depending on who is present, during the story. Oh how they would laugh. My son loved it so much. It was his favorite part of the routine. There was also a story about a not-so-scary monster that accompanied it. Now he likes to talk before bed. It is so amazing to see one's child grow up.