A new take on an old tale. All characters are over the age of 18.
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I well remember the day I first noticed her watching us bathing in the river near the castle.
On hot summer afternoons, our father sometimes let my older brothers and me leave our chores at the mill for an hour or so and run down to the river to cool off and have a bit of fun. He was kind to us, father, as he aged. I think he knew that, when he soon died and left us parentless and poor, life would be hard on all of us. He made sure we had some little time for fun while we could.
Jon, the oldest of us, was always serious, taking care we didn't stray from our chores for too long or get in the way of nobles passing by. Mont, the middle, led the mule, who he always treated kindly, laden with flour to drop at the baker's on the way to the river. I brought up the rear, with Puss always padding at my side, stopping to catch the odd mouse as we made our way through the dusty town.
Regardless of our different dispositions, when we reached the quiet bend in the river outside town, below the castle wall, we couldn't restrain our joy. We'd tear off our clothes and leap, naked and sweaty and grimy, into the cool waters, tumbling and wrestling and laughing. When we'd exhausted our energy, we'd clamber up the banks and flop down on the grass under the trees, chomping on fallen apples and staring into the blue sky, letting the sun brown our bare skin and relax our wiry frames. In our hard lives, where work in the fields and the mill from dusk to dawn was the daily reality, with no mother to love us and a tired, ageing father to worry about, this was a small dose of heaven.
I'd often seen faces peering down from the small windows in the castle wall as we swam and rested. A few times I thought I'd seen the face of the princess - a beautiful young woman of my own age whom I'd worshipped from afar when I saw her on celebration days - briefly passing by, but I was never sure.
That afternoon, I remember glancing up at the castle wall and, all of a sudden, locking eyes with her. I knew instantly it was Princess Charlotte. There could be no doubt. And I knew, just as certainly, deep inside me, that she wasn't just glancing down as she passed by. She was staring at us - no, not us, me - greedily drinking in the sight of my naked body as if parched.