It’s the lot of women to suffer the stupidity of men.
I looked out the window of the grand carriage painted and gilded with the king’s family crest as it carried me from the hovel of my home to the castle where I somehow had to make good on my father’s nonsensical boast that I could spin straw into gold. Had my father not soaked his brain in cheap ale to bolster his courage, he would have realized that, if his boast were true, our family would not live in a hovel and dress in rags. The king, who looked at me with watery eyes gleaming with greed, should have figured out that little logical truth, too.
He leaned across the seats, corset creaking as it struggled to contain the bulge of a belly swollen with too much fine, rich food and wine, and patted my knee in an overly familiar gesture that made my skin crawl.
“You’re a pretty lass,” he complimented me and licked his already wet lips.
Being a humble miller’s daughter—a peasant—I could hardly rebuff the king, but I did sidle away from his lecherous touch and protest, “Your majesty, you mustn’t. I’m not worthy.”
MY CHRISTMAS GIFT TO YOU!
SKEINS OF GOLD: Rumpelstiltskin Retold
Caught by her father's lie and the king's greed, the miller's daughter faces an impossible task: spinning straw into gold. An imp accepts her paltry trade to save her life, but what are his motives? What's a poor peasant woman to do?
This retelling of the ancient fairy tale of Rumpelstiltskin addresses some questions left unanswered by the traditional versions and is told from the perspective of the miller's daughter.
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