No Need Of Rescue

Once upon a time a princesses sat in her tower, hands palming honey dew locks and eyes oozing contentment. Her lips painted with a grin, and dress modeled of childhood whimsy. 

She'd often sit, back against the cold walls of her home, fingers spread delicately across the pages of a novel, worn from years of spilling words and stories. However, on certain days, her lovely demeanor was found too alluring and men of all shapes and parentage, would echo music of love against the stone of her house. 

their voices stung her ears, simmering in her brain like popping chicken, as their rattling continued. 

they were aware of the tales, like most who recognize her name. But didn't note the inconsistencies in their tellings. She knew no dragon, no wicked witch who haunted the caverns of mind. Although she was, in all right the muse of gods, she was in no need of rescue.