The first rays of sunlight would bring her transformation. She waited, breathless, at the window for the first glimmer of fire to appear above the horizon.
Behind her, the Prince lay sleeping, tumbled across his golden bed. She had played her part well. He would always remember her, she told herself, and smiled grimly.
In her left hand she held her prize, the emerald that contained the kingdom’s soul. With her right hand she pulled her robe tightly round her slim body, and stepped forward. This body irked her and she longed for flight.
A sudden noise behind her made her turn, startled as a deer. The Prince had woken and was smiling at her. He dangled a chain between his fingers. The diamond swinging from it sparked as the first light of sunrise hit it.
Her hand flew to her throat. He’d taken it from her – but how had he known? Without its power she was trapped, wingless, in this fragile body.
The sunlight that spilt around her mocked her now. She reached out involuntarily, but the Prince just smiled more widely and closed his hand around his trophy.
“Come here, my love”, he whispered.
This was written for yet another inspiring prompt from the very wonderful Jane Dougherty. The picture is by Caspar David Friedrich. Jane inspires some great pieces, get over there, check her out and give it a go!