The beggar woman, the cruel prince, and the tigersThe beggar woman, the cruel prince, and the tigers by QueenWerandra
An old beggar woman sits at on the stairs leading up to the palace.
Her thin, grey hair is tied back under a ragged scarf,
Which is now a faded version of the blue it was once.
Her face is reminiscent of tanned leather;
Many years of wrinkles have embedded their way into her grimy skin.
Her simple dress is fashioned from scraps of forged cloth;
Her bare feet are bloodied and bandaged from walking many miles with no protection.
She dons a pair of shabby, grey gloves.
The heir to the throne is alerted of the intruder.
He is a cruel man, with a sharp temper and no regard for the lives of others.
He tortures for the joy of it, and thinks of nothing,
Save for what he shall do when he inherits the throne,
Which, (he hopes), may be soon, for his father is away in a far away, savage land.
"And why should I care about some random old hag come to beg for my fortune?",
As he admires his handsome face in the mirror hanging on a pillar,