Bashful's Tale -- Part 2
The water was cold but I wasn’t thinking about that. I was thinking about her and how incredibly beautiful she was. I didn’t much mind washing up if it meant keeping one as lovely as her happy. I didn’t know about the rest of the boys but I for one didn’t want her to leave.

When we returned to the cabin she had a stew going on the fire. It smelled wonderful, nothing like the vile stuff we cooked for ourselves. She’d found a loaf of bread that hadn’t ruined yet and she’d sliced it and placed it on a tray. While we’d been washing up she’d washed every dish in the place. No small task that. The table was set all nice, with candles even, like we was royalty. A princess that could put a house in order like a scullery maid or cook, will wonders never cease?

“Dinner is almost ready,” she said sweetly, “and you look so much nicer now. Let me see, now that you’re not all covered in dirt, if perhaps I can match each of you with the names on the beds upstairs.”

She studied us intently. Predictably I began to blush furiously under her gaze. Delighted she exclaimed, “You’re Bashful!” I couldn’t speak without stammering so I just ducked my head and nodded furiously. Grumpy snorted in disgust. “And you’re Grumpy!” she giggled. “And you’re Doc, and you’re Happy, and you’re Sleepy, and Oh my goodness! Bless you!” She exclaimed! “You must be Sneezy.” She laughed, “And that means that you have to be Dopey.” She finished. She’d not missed a one of us. “Well do come to the table, the stew smells like it is ready now.” She said. And she served us. Her. The Princess. Served the likes of us. I think that was when we all became captivated by her grace. She was a different type of girl and a very different type of princess. And we loved her. I loved her.

-- To Be Continued