It Happens

 

There are times and there are times. One

need not necessarily believe in fables or the

sinister gossip hidden from public view of the

veneer of Imperial entitlement at the expense of

the great unwashed. Don't have to believe me. 

It happens. A dashing prince chooses his charming

princess who has yearned for his notice and a royal 

wedding results with great fanfare where the adoring 

public swoons over a match made in heaven and 

young girls dream of their own wayward prince

tardy in arrival. Rinse and repeat. The pair close the 

door to the palace and live happily ever after, until

they no longer do ... or old age and the Angel of Death 

separates the devoted royal pair. Theirs is not the model

for all such royal events for there are other stories 

when the downtrodden public is less inclined to worship 

royal affectations while the masses endure penury

lending impetus to a rough rabble of regicidal mobs 

invading the palace to slaughter all within, swords

adrip with blood. In others grim ceremony of guillotining 

those guilty of royal persuasion. Time moves on and 

though royal heritage persists it is the royal offspring 

themselves now choosing infamously to erode 

and degrade the gentle privileges of regal charm.