Prince Charming looked up at the enchanted castle, scrutinizing it, and then checked his hair in the mirrored shine of his blade.
Who’s the prince, baby? Yeah. He winked at his reflection. Sleeping Beauty stood no chance against one of his looks and bravery. And brains.
After all, he’d been the first prince to hire mercenaries to take out the fierce dragon that roamed the woods. It had taken over a hundred men to subdue and destroy the creature. Luckily for him (and his pockets), only two came back alive, so he’d only had to pay two fees.
And now Sleeping Beauty was wide open for business. So to speak.
All that separated him from the enchanted palace atop the hill was a massive vine wall, and after he fixed his hair, he sheathed his sword and set about to climbing the vines.
The thorns were thick and scratched at him. Worse than that, the leaves were covered with a slimy gunk that got under his nails. Once he’d scaled to the top of the castle wall (no easy trick), he took a look around the courtyard, gazing at the bodies still fallen in place.
And then he sat down and gave himself a manicure. His princess might not appreciate a bit of green gunk underneath his princely nailbeds. Lord knew he didn’t.
Once his hands were presentable again, Charming yawned and scratched his
belly, and then drew his sword. He didn’t need it, of course – all the people in
the courtyard lay skewed about and unmoving, victims of the fairy curse. Leaves
lay scattered over a few of them, and a few of the women had hair plastered in
their faces. Most of their garments were terribly out of fashion.
His first job as prince of Beauty’s kingdom would obviously be to bring style
back to the people. Charming suppressed a small shudder as he stepped past a man
with tri-colored hose.
Tri-color was sooo 1450s.
The interior of the keep was peacefully quiet, and here upon a raised, dusty dais, lay Beauty. Long, silky blonde hair spilled over the bier and onto the steps. Her pretty peach silk gown had twisted in her sleep and had hiked up around her hips, revealing smooth, perfect legs.
Charming smiled, strode forward, and adjusted himself.
She’d do quite nicely.
But when he moved over to her side, Charming held his nose, daunted. Of course the wench had been sleeping for a hundred years, but her breath was atrocious. It stank of rotten, dead things.
Luckily for him, all good handsome princes carried breath mints.
Charming took one out of his pocket and dropped it between her pale lips. When her mouth didn’t move, he put aside his sword and used his hands to force her to masticate the small candy.
It helped things a little.
The most dire issue taken care of, Charming decided to examine the goods. A quick peek up her skirt revealed many pleasing things, and her breasts were nicely full. Her face seemed pleasant enough – big, pouty lips perfect for sucking on the princely equipage, ruined only bit bits of moss growing at the corners of her mouth. He frowned and tried to wipe them away, and winced when a large scratch bloomed on her cheek.
Whoops. Charming licked the pad of his thumb and tried to wipe it away. No luck. Ah well.
Adjusting himself again to plump the goods, Charming leaned over the princess and lightly brushed his mouth against hers.
She moaned slightly, but her eyes remained closed.
“Yeah, you like it, don’t you?” Charming was rather pleased with himself at her reaction. Not only did she bring the entire kingdom with her, but she seemed to be hungry for what he could give her. “Hungry for a mouthful of Charming? Slut.”
He leaned in again, pressing a more insistent kiss on her lightly slack mouth…and to his surprise, it moved against his.
It was almost like…she’d tried to bite him.
Surprised, Charming jerked back, running a hand along her leg.
Beauty twitched, and her eyes flew open. They were bright red. A bug skittered out from under one of her eyelids.
“Augh!” Charming fell backward, horrified. He’d put his mouth on that filthy creature? With a lace hanky, he scrubbed at his lips.
Hygiene would definitely be first on the princess’s To-Do list now that she was awake.
She moaned again, her jaw flexing. A whisper eased out of her throat. “Braaains…” Her body jerked on the dais, and she sat up.
Charming took a step backward, nearly tripping over the limp body of one of the courtiers near his feet. He kicked it aside, and turned his attention back to his bride-to-be.
Something was…wrong with the princess. Her head tilted at an odd angle, and she extended her arms outward, as if reaching for him. “Braiins,” she hissed again.
Funny, he didn’t seem to recall this part of the legend.
A hand clasped on his ankle, and Charming jerked, startled. The courtier at his feet had awoken and was trying to drag itself across the floor. Toward him. “Braains,” it said. “Braaains.”
“Braains,” said another behind him. And then another.
The princess stood from the dais and began to shuffle toward him.
Charming grabbed his sword again and affected a manly stance that showed off his shoulders. “Begone, wretches!” His heart sank a little as they continued to shuffle slowly toward him.
The legend had been wrong. Well, sort of. The story had told that whoever
kissed the sleeping beauty on the mouth would awaken her from her hundred-year
sleep.
And she was definitely awake. Along with the rest of the castle.
And they were hungry.