[Reading time: 2 minutes]
It was maybe midnight. But if you had open your window that night from the castle, you would have enjoyed a truly spectacle.
She was standing beneath the vastness of the sky, just a sliver above the grass, brushing against it with a generous thin dress, barefoot. Swinging her hips and putting her arms up, she was getting into a tender dance, caressing the flower buds and brushing the ground, the tree barks, the wet leaves of the night. She started to run slowly with the elegance of a princess and the preciseness of a ballet dancer. Her right ankle was following quietly, maybe sighing for the effort…but we cannot be sure about this.
The water of the fountains was jealously watching this gentle movements. It seemed as it would have loved to raise from the basins and join her, pursuing her with the same sensitivity and brushing her feet over the powdered grass. The drops looked like spurting out all around her, chasing her right ankle, protecting it from eventual brutal gestures.
When she came back in her apartments, she looked like a barefoot tousled princess. Her right ankle was in harsh conditions, but she knew it since the day she was born. Her father used to say that she was deformed. And he would not forget to remember it the day after.
That famous morning, he prohibited her to go out again. It was a shame that she was doing this almost every night and that all the dukes and duchesses were watching this. What would have happened if the king would know about it? “I was just glorifying nature…” she answered. But she had to stay home that day, and all the days after, and for a very long time.