A princess implies a king. Bohemia does have a king - and this king has a son, a son who had to come looking for me after I'd rebelled against my father. When he found me, I'd already made such a huge mess of things...in fact I'd given myself intothe slavery of a decietful, cruel master, who'd promised me my heart's desires, but delivered only suffering. My master wouldn't let me go without a huge ransom, which the King's son paid. He told me the King was calling me back, and had sent him to ransom me. But how could I face the King again? I was a wreck - a dirty, dissobedient child. "Here," said the son. "Let's get rid of these filthy, crimson rags you're wearing...take my clothes, and when we get there, I'll take you into the King's presence, and I'll plead for you."
I said I'd trust him. And he's still there, at the King's right hand, pleading for me.
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