The Day Before

At dawn he crossed over the border into the kingdom of the Shining Stars. He was travelling alone and on foot. It is difficult to say whether he was a boy or a man, but those who came across him on his journey claimed that he was a jester, because he was wearing a red outfit with a jagged hem, a horned hat, and long narrow boots with curled toes. He was carrying a red knapsack on his back.

In the afternoon he stopped and sat down on a small tussock, laid out a cloth napkin on his lap and ate a modest lunch. He seemed to be deep in thought. Then he pulled out a large notebook from his knapsack and wrote something down. He looked up at the sky and soon continued on his way. Tomorrow he would be kneeling before the local king.

The Princess

The princess awoke in the morning, stretched and put on her pink slippers. What a day it’s going to be today! she thought excitedly. And she ran straight to the window. She looked out at the zigzagging path which led to the outer gate of the castle, but so far nothing, no-one in sight. So, time to wash, get dressed and brush her hair. The door to the bathroom banged shut.

The princess’s name was Princess. Honestly. Her mother had given her the name. She had also given her her looks – a round face, golden hair and a mischievous glint in her eye. All of those who remembered the queen were astonished by the likeness, but Princess didn’t remember her mother. She knew what she looked like from pictures, and they had also told her that her mother was very kind and courageous, but Princess had no idea that she had the same laugh as her, that they both liked to gaze into the distance and dream, and that if something strange should suddenly happen, she would cover her mouth with both her hands, just like her mother. No-one told Princess this – even though her father was still around and perhaps also someone else who loved these similarities.

Princess gave herself a cursory wash, got dressed in the twinkling of an eye and was soon back at the window surveying the winding path. At the same time her nimble fingers braided a plait which fell over her shoulder – it was already half a metre long and the same amount of hair remained. The path to the castle was still empty. Princess didn’t like it – the sun was already high above the trees and was beginning to heat up, so where was everyone? A pair of white doves flew around the window. Princess sighed and carried on with her braiding.

Just when it seemed to her that a traveller had appeared on the road far off in the distance, someone knocked on the door to her pink chamber. It was the master of ceremonies in his festive beret. He poked his head inside and wished Princess a good morning.

Princess turned towards him eagerly. “Well, are they here yet? How many of them are there?”

“No-one has arrived yet, Your Highness,” replied the master of ceremonies. “But no doubt they will be arriving presently. But now you ought to come for breakfast as quickly as you can. The king sends word that your cocoa is getting cold.”

“But what about this?” said Princess, showing him her half-finished plait.

The master of ceremonies gave a look of despair. “I don’t know, how about something like this…” He handed Princess the red portfolio he was holding under his arm, and where the plait ended he tied the hair into a double fisherman’s knot.

“Wonderful idea, Master of Ceremonies!” said Princess, laughing, and she ran off to the dining room.

(Translated by Graeme Dibble)