If I were to Write a Children's Book

Princess Poppy and the Lying Lyre who Lied

By Kathryn Miller

Once upon a time in a fairy kingdom lived a king and a queen who had many many daughters all named after flowers.  The youngest princess was named poppy.  Poppy had short red hair and as many freckles as the sky had stars.  She wore orange sundresses with green stockings and a simple yellow ribbon in her hair on the days she did not wear her princess crown.

Princess Poppy loved to skip.  She’d rather skip than walk.  Her elder sisters would say, “don’t do that inside” or “that’s not the way a princess behaves” but Poppy skipped around the palace anyway.

One day while Princess Poppy was skipping she  bumped into a table knocking over a figurine of a handsome young boy playing a Lyre that was given to her parents as a gift from one of the Fairy Queens.  

“Oh no.” said Princess Poppy looking down at the figurine.  His one arm was now broken and his instrument had fallen from his grip.  “What will I do?” She said sadly kneeling down by the figurine.  “King daddy and Queen Mummy will be ever so cross.”

The little Lyre lying on the ground began to strum itself and make sounds.  At first it made tiny music but then it made words.  The words were, “Walk away.  No one saw you do this.  I won’t tell anyone and no one will know.”

Princess Poppy frowned.  She was not bothered by the fact that the Lyre had spoken to her.  She lived in a Fairy Kingdom after all.  She wasn’t sure if she should take its advice.

“But If I just walk away then...Someone else will just find you.” She told the Lyre.

“Yes, and they won’t know what happened.  They will think the wind blew me over.  And King Daddy and Queen Mummy won’t be cross with you.”

Princess Poppy looked up and down the hallway.  There was no one around.  She could just walk away.  Thinking about it made her stomach feel achy though, like she had skipped too soon after drinking lots of milk.  

“I don’t know if I can do that.” She said looking down at the Lyre.  

“Its not like you’d be lying,” said the Lyre. “You won’t be saying anything at all.”

The Lyre made sense and though it made her uneasy  so Princess Poppy walked away.  That night at when all the Princess were present for dinner King Daddy and Queen Mummy walked over the the grand palace dinner table looking sad.  Princess Poppy felt her stomach feel funny again.

Then King Daddy placed the broken figure on the table and asked, “Does anyone have anything to say about this?”  Princess Poppy fidgeted in her chair.  The other princesses merely looked puzzled.

The little lyre began to play. First there were music and then four clear words. “Princess Poppy broke me.”

“Poppy?” King Daddy said with disappointment.

“But you said you wouldn’t tell.” Princess Poppy cried.

“I Lied.” said the Lyre.

Queen Mummy walked Princess Poppy to her room telling her she  was to eat her dinner alone and have no desert.

“But Mummy, the Lyre lied.”

“It did worse than that.  It made a liar out of you.” Queen Mummy told her gently.

“But I didn’t say anything.” Princess Poppy said sadly.  

“That can be the worst lie of all, dear Poppy.” Queen Mummy told her.  Princess Poppy nodded and vowed from that moment on to never lie nor listen to a Lying Lyre that Lies.

Myths Landing

I remember the last time I saw my mother.  She was brushing her hair and I was lying on a round couch still in my white cotton slip.  I was on my belly looking up at her, I swung my legs, kicking at nothing the way that young children do.  I was thinking how beautiful I was going to be one day when I was as big as my mother.  I was thinking that everyone said I looked just like her.  I was thinking about the way the brush moved smoothly through her chestnut brown hair, and how soft and shiny it looked.  Mother winked at me from the mirror.

“Someone should be asleep already.” she told me with gentle reproof.  She was glad I was still up.

“Why can’t I go to see the Godmother’s?” I asked her happy to watch her prepare herself.

“You will, one day.” she promised.  “And they are going to love you my dearest.”

She always called me that; Dearest.  I was her dearest.  The sky was blue, water was wet and I was her dearest.  

“Why do you have to go at night?” I asked her looking out of the tower window.  I see the moon in the sky.  We stayed in the top of the Tower then.  I could see well into the forests around the Towers of Myths Landing.  I thought I could see all the way to Briarwood on clear sunny days.  Everything was more foreboding at night.

“I don’t make the rules, but I must follow them.”  Mother said putting her jeweled brush down.  When she stood, a handmaiden patiently rose and began assembling the underskirts for the bejeweled gown that mother would be received by the godmothers in.  It took three handmaidens to fit the gown on mother properly, tying all the hidden ribbons, and securing buttons, hooks and seams.  I watched them work transfixed as they with mechanic grace transformed my beautiful mother into an even more beautiful fairy queen.  Flowers and a pearl net were weaved into her hair before a glittering Tiara was finally placed.  Before they secured the pink and gold, rose embroidered cape, she reached down and lifted me up into her arms as I suppressed a yawn.

“I can take her to the nursery” one of mother’s lady’s offered and mother laughed shaking her head no.

“This is one task I can do myself.” she said as she walked me back to my bed.

“You're more beautiful than paintings” I told my mother as she nestled me back into my now cool bed.

“I love you my little Elaine.  Never forget that.” she said kissing my forehead.  I remember that because it was not something she normally said, it was not something I’d ever forget.  The kiss didn't tingle but it didn't need fairy magic to burn its way into memory.  Sometimes love works better than magic.

Despite the growing dark, and the lateness of the hour, my mother stayed with me till I fell asleep.  That was the last time I saw her.

In the morning more handmaidens came in but I didn't know them and they ignored me as they began to back up my clothing and toys.  I asked them what was going on and I was answered by a girl standing in the doorway.  She was about twelve and her hair was black as ravens, and cut short to her neck.  She wore a black gown, but it was not a uniform like the handmaidens wore.  It was more like something mother would wear.  She reached her hand out to me.

“Come with me Elaine.  We’re going to be moving you downstairs today, won’t that be fun?”

“Where is my mother?” I asked the girl since she knew my name.  “I don’t want to move.  I want my mother.”  I was frightened and on the verge of a tantrum.  The girl with swift grace entered the room and took my hand, kneeling to be eye to eye with me.  “I’m Adele, your sister.  Your mother is with the angels now my dearest, but she wants you to come live with me.”  It was the my dearest that caught my attention and well, Adele has been blessed by all the godmother’s save Winter, that close to her I felt safe and my urge to cry subsided.  Adele even managed to pick me up.  I was not yet 3 and she was almost 13.  Her eyes were large and gentle and sad.

I didn't understand what Adele meant by mother living with the angels.  Surely she’d come back for me.  I was her dearest.  In the next few days I was moved down to the lower levels of the tower where I’d never been, and given a small room, a new nanny and many new tutors.  I had to wear black everyday because mother had died.  I sometimes fought and cried and screamed and broke things, but Mother never came.  My sister Adele almost always did and I would hit her for it and scream at her, but she would bare it and when I was calm enough she would hold me and kiss my forehead the way mother used to.

My sister Beatrice was three years younger than Adele, she was taller with golden brown hair and smaller meaner green eyes and she used to hit me back if I acted like that around her, if Adele wasn't watching.  The twins, Cynthia and Daphne were almost 6 and wanted to play with me.  Sometimes with them I could play and forget.  But every night I’d cry.

After a few weeks Daphne crawled in bed with me when I would cry.  She’d hold me and whisper things.  That's how I found out her mother was gone too.  And So was Beatrice’s and so was Adele’s.  And that's when I stopped crying for a while.

It would be a little over three more years before it would become clear, when Adele prepared us that we had a little sister named Fiona who was going to move down to our rooms with us.  I realized then that my dearest Adele was little mother to all of us, and wondered who moved Adele down here.  I was almost 6 years old and the night Fiona moved down to the princess floors I wept, but not for my mother this time.  I wept for Adele.

Sometimes I’ll read about how wonderful it is to be a fairy princess.  Our Mythlander Bards do keep the people goodly entertained with tales of our mysterious graces and delight.  It always makes me frown a bit.  The towers are amazing.  There are three levels of gardens to explore.  The South Tower is so wide that you can race ponies around the halls where they keep the princesses stables, which Beatrice and I do quite frequently.  Of course the purpose of the tower is to provide us with everything we would ever need without ever leaving the towers.  It is the most comfortable prison a princess could ask for, but that is the point.  No princess ever asks to be in a prison.

We are the treasures of Myths Landing, and need to be safely kept in the treasury.  And only worn for special occasions.  Its actually not so wonderful from this side of things when you can look out the window at all of Myths Landing but you can’t touch any of it.  I wonder if treasure sighs in the locked treasury dreaming of being worn and touched everyday.  I know I did.