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Some Things Never Really Change
by Patricia Harrington

The prince knew that the sleeping beauty lay waiting in a slumber that only his kiss could awaken. He had traveled many miles to reach the raven-haired and beautiful princess. The prince thought of the rumored curse that had condemned such innocence to a life without laughter and love. But he would soon change all that. As he neared the castle, he could almost taste the sleeping beauty's sweet, cool lips stilled by the witch’s jealous cruelty, far too long. A surge of desire pulsed in the prince. Under his ardent kiss, the princess would come passionately alive, and be his and only his, forever grateful, and always by his side.

The prince dismounted and bounded up the castle’s decaying steps. He searched the bedrooms in a heated rush until he found the one with the object of his desire. He went to the princess and looked down, coveting her lovely face and body, her soft, round bosom that rose and fell sweetly, gently. Soon . . . soon . . . he leaned over and kissed her. At first, the sleeping beauty’s lips were lifeless and unyielding, like cold marble. But then he felt them warming and trembling under his ardent kiss. The ultimate thrill of conquest and victory ran hot and molten though his body, his face flushing, his loins hot with desire as he pressed her close.

The young, sleeping beauty arched her body and brought her arms around the prince. Slowly, languidly, she opened her eyes and looked deeply into his. She sighed. “At last!” Then she took a knife concealed in her sleeve, raised it high and then plunged it into his back. A film of betrayal glazed his eyes, and she smiled with satisfaction.

Sleeping Beauty pushed the prince’s heavy body aside and stood up. She wiped the knife clean on his tunic, brushed her long hair away from her face and straightened her gown. “Now, on to another prince and another kingdom,” she said briskly.

In the chamber’s doorway, the cruel witch had been waiting and watching. When Sleeping Beauty reached her, she said, “Good work, my pretty dear. Men and princes are such fools. They’ll believe a silly tale and pretty woman, every time.”