Fools. All of them.
They come with their sharp swords and polished armor, so eager to be the hero of the tale. To win over the maiden with a single, life-defying act of bravery.
No words. No flowers. No real attempt at a lasting connection.
For them, she’s no everlasting love, no happily ever after. She’s a prize. A living, breathing symbol of their masculine power. She might as well be carved of gold, for all she’s worth to them. Continue reading