For a week after her trip to the Village, Princess Charlotte thought about her brief encounter with Stefan, the Carpenter’s Son. She thought about his kind smile and his beautiful eyes. She walked for hours in the garden each afternoon anticipating and counting down the days until she could visit the little Carpenter’s shop again.
But her Stepmother, Queen Abigail, who hated the Princess, had another plan. She had seen the changes in Charlotte the past few days, she had seen how happy she was, and she vowed to find out what was going on in her Step Daughter’s life.
Knowing that Charles could only escort Charlotte to the Village on Saturdays, she scheduled a court function that day and required the Princess to attend this boring, all-day event. Princess Charlotte knew she did it on purpose, but she had no way of knowing her Step Mother’s plans.
The day of the Court Function came and went. Charlotte attended as was required, and she was bored to death as she anticipated. Whereas the previous week, her thoughts had been happy anticipating her next meeting with Stefan, now she was resentful of her circumstances. Locked away in this Castle like a prisoner, and forced to sit and stand and smile just because some Nobleman from somewhere was passing through.
It was several weeks before she was finally able to go to the Village again, and Princess Charlotte wasn’t going to let any new “Court Functions” get in the way. Charles the Badger was late, meeting her at the stables as usual, but by mid-day they were on their way down the familiar path to the River.
She must have reminded Charles five times that today was the day she would get her carving from Stefan. And it must have begun to grate on his nerves because the sixth time she reminded him he held up his hand abruptly, “Enough!” He said in a voice loud enough to shush the forest around them. Even the birds went quiet, and the echo of his voice trailed into the woods. “Yes,” he continued under his breath. “Today we will go get your little carving of a troll!” He growled.
The Princess didn’t even notice the rest of the ride along the river and around the hill. But her heart skipped a beat when she looked up and realized that she could see the Carpenter’s hut and Stefan was sitting there, as always, whittling on one of his creations.
Charlotte smiled and waved at him as soon as she saw him, before she remembered to hide her excitement.
Stefan waved back and he reached behind a small wall to retrieve a carving as the Princess and The Badger brought their horses to a stop in front of the hut. If Charles thought this visit to the Carpenter’s hut was going to be fast, his hopes were dashed when Princess Charlotte lept from her horse to see what the young artist had created for her.
“It has been a long time since I last saw you,” Stefan said with a curious smile. “I thought you might have forgotten about me.”
“No!” The Princess countered, maybe too quickly. “No, of course not.” She said more softly. “We’ve had visitors and they never let me leave…” she stammered but the Badger cleared his throat as he dismounted his horse, reminding her to remember her station (and Stefan’s).
Stefan chuckled and said, “I have something for you.” Then he reached behind his log and handed her a carving that was quite different from anything she had ever seen.
The carving was an Angel, but not like the angel carvings she had seen at the chapel in the Castle, those looked stiff like furniture on the wall. This Angel lay lazily along a small limb. Its organic wings lay limp across her slumbering belly, modestly covering her body. The Angel’s hands wrapped around the limb, holding her delicate body draped along its length in a relaxed embrace, and the Angel looked dreamily skyward.
The Princess held the carving by the bough and examined the Angel more closely. Her delicate wooden face was peaceful, but not quite sleeping. As if she were just waking from a Summer’s Afternoon nap. And there was something else about her. The Angel’s face and her shoulders looked just like…
“She is beautiful,” Charlotte said wondering if Stefan had made the Angel look just like her on purpose?
Stefan exhaled audibly. “Thank you, Princess.” He said. “She is daydreaming,” he added cautiously. “Perhaps she is dreaming of love?” He asked in an enquiring tone, searching the Princess’s eyes for any indication.
“How much is she?” The Princess asked, fearful that such an intricate carving would be more expensive than the meager allowance her father gave her for these outings.
“It is a gift, for you,” Stefan replied. “Your beautiful smile is payment enough.”
Charlotte laughed at his charm, and thanked him. And that evening she placed the small bough with the Day Dreaming Angel beside her bed. The Angel that looked like Charlotte.
And over the course of the weeks that followed, Charlotte visited the little Carpenter’s hut each time she was able to escape her Stepmother’s clutches and avoid her interminable Court Functions. And each time she visited him, Stefan had produced a new carving; all of them were Angels. And all of them looked like Princess Charlotte.
Stefan’s angels told the story of forbidden love; The Longing Angel, the Crying Angel, The Angel Wishing Time Away.
Charles The Badger had had enough of sitting around each week listening to the “love talk”, and decided the less he witnessed the better. He had developed a habit of wandering away to tend to the horses, leaving Charlotte and Stefan to themselves for a few minutes each time they visited the little shop. Not long enough for anything to happen, but he could tell it helped Charlotte’s mood, and it got him out of the Castle as well.
As the weeks of Spring stretched into Summer, Princess Charlotte visited again, and Stefan made her the best Angel yet. It was larger than the others. Even more intricately carved than the previous ones were.
“It is The Sleeping Angel,” Stefan said. “She dreams of a love she can never have.”
“Why can’t she have her love?” Charlotte asked, but she saw the sadness in Stefan’s eyes. She knew where it came from. The personification of his love for her in these beautiful wooden carvings. She knew the Angel might have looked like her, but it was him. And the sadness made the Angel sleep and dream that the World spun in a different direction. One where she wasn’t locked in a Castle and guarded by a brutish thug. It was a dream of a World where she was free and Stefan wasn’t a Carpenter, and nobody knew either of them. And they could be together forever.
Charlotte put her arms around Stefan’s neck and kissed his cheek. “Nothing is forever,” she said, then whispered, “sometimes dreams come true.”
The Badger appeared around the back of the wood pile and coughed politely into his hand. This was Charlotte’s signal that it was time to go. Stefan held her hand as she slid away and her fingers slipped from his.
Another week, maybe two before I will see him again, the Princess thought as she mounted her horse and nudged her into the path toward the village.
Perhaps she was lost in her mind and worried about the week ahead; anticipating with dread another week alone in the Castle. Maybe it was the distraction of seeing her love who carved Angels, or the tender longing she felt in her stomach as she rode away. But despite her weeks of careful maneuvering and secrecy, she simply hadn’t noticed Queen Abigail’s spy in the woods, and neither had Charles or Stefan. But the spy had seen everything. She had been in the woods for each of their meetings. She had seen The Badger leave Charlotte and Stefan alone, she had seen the carvings, and how Charlotte’s arms had fallen around Stefan’s neck when she kissed him.
Admittedly the young spy was jealous of the Princess. She thought of the crude Troll her father had brought to her just two short years before. She knew where he had gotten it, and she kept her little figurine beside her pauper’s bed as well. She had secretly loved Stefan, maybe even more than the Princess could ever love anything, she thought.
The spy backed away from her hiding place behind a bush and snuck back toward the Castle to report what she had seen to the Queen. Perhaps if Princess Charlotte would just stay in her Castle like Queen Abigail promised, maybe Stefan would carve Angels in her likeness one day too.