A Sorta Fairytale

Once upon a time, a young woman, who fancied herself a princess in another lifetime, attended the Renaissance Festival. She had found an old dress at a garage sale that had fit her perfectly. She had designed and sewn her own cape and matching purse to tie about her waist. Once dressed, she swept half of her long hair up into a twisted crown of sorts, and adorned it with tiny flowers. And she went to the fair, by choice, alone.

Attending the festival solo meant that she could spend her time as she pleased, and though she had gone before with others, she found that this trip was by far her most enjoyable. The princess out of time meandered and wandered the fairgrounds, observing countless kindred spirits, who seemed, as she, more at home in this long ago world than they could ever be in the present. From morning 'til dusk her eyes were bright with the wonder of the place and its people. As the sun set and festival patrons began to flock to the exit gateways, she lingered, meandering slowly and then stopping, waiting, listening to a melancholy bagpipe melody as it wafted o'er the crowd. The lone player stood above the grand archways that led back to her home, and she wasn't quite prepared to leave just yet. The day was done, the sky becoming increasingly dark, but she wanted a few more moments in this perfection. It would, after all, be another year before she could return to this place and its created anachronism. The pipes seemed to be playing just to her, bidding her their farewells and also their gratitude that she had journeyed here for the day.

A voice called out from behind, startling her slightly. "Look at you!" he said, as he came around and then faced her. "You're perfect!" Taken aback for a moment at the sudden conversation (she had been silent most of the day), she smiled and thanked the young man for his compliment. He continued, and she was more than flattered by his enamored gushing about her dress, her cape, her hair, "everything." Had it not been dusk, he would have undoubtedly noticed her embarassment by how red her cheeks became. She was thankful for the lack of illumination. And then, he asked, "May...I have a kiss?"

The forwardness of the proposal would have stunned her if this were any other place or time, but this year's festival had been centered around the romance of the king and queen characters, so many of the festival's paid attendees were promoting this by giving away kisses. Perhaps he believed she was one of the traveling troupe? A flattery in and of itself, that idea was, and she smiled inwardly at the success of her humble homespun attire. "What harm could it do?" she thought. So, she leaned toward him and lightly kissed his cheek. His earlier fervor subsided, and was suddenly replaced by..."embarassment?" she thought. His eyes shifted toward the ground, as he said, "Oh, actually, I meant...."

Now a little unsure of what do to (still flattered of course, as the gentleman was handsome and soft-spoken, and might have been a romantic possibility, had she not already found the love of her life--even if he didn't know it yet--back in the real world), she thought for a moment, eyebrow cocked in her famous way, as if to say "Are you serious?" His eyes told her that he was. Whether he was simply a festival patron enjoying the countless free kisses being bestowed upon strangers that day, or was truly so taken with her that he desired only her kiss, she wondered but would never learn. Still, having decided he was as he appeared to be (even in jeans), a true gentleman and not a threat, but still a little afraid of what would happen (she had, after all, only ever kissed one man in her lifetime), she agreed to grant his wish. They both leaned forward, her eyes closed, and their lips touched.

Words do not exist to describe that moment, but the moments and words that followed it seemed to fly too quickly, and then he continued on his way through the exit arches, and was gone. She never saw him again, nor did she forget him. It had been a simple, innocent kiss, and it had only lasted at most two seconds, but the memory of it would be imprinted in her mind forever as one of the most perfect moments in her life: the place out of time, the floating melody of the bagpipes, the waning day, and a prince in disguise who had requested a single kiss. No doubt that moment, so many years ago, has taken on a romanticized form in her mind, but still the sounds, the scents, the warmth of hand against cheek, each of her senses in that moment remains in crystal clarity in her mind, like a dream that haunts you even hours after you wake. And sometimes, even though her life is now more blissful than she could have ever imagined, being married to her one true love and having a most precious child, she remembers that evening so long ago, when she bestowed a kiss upon a stranger, and she wonders where life has taken him.