On his feet on top of the highest walls, where the glare of the sun tickles the sights of man, he glares down at the greatest army of the north, armored up in front of the solid walls of his poor kingdom. In the head of the army there’s a face that he is so disturbed to see. The true face of wickedness. Now that he looks back, it seems like a stupid decision to reject her request. But now that it’s done, he can foresee the rest of his critical decision. His bride is already weeping in the castle, having a horror of the unforeseeable future. He recalls her sore questions and the fret that was all over her face. He did a good job that let his bride remain in the castle. The princess's majestically wroth eyes are looking for the low princess who dared to plunder the prince that she desires. "How dare you keep me down here and make me look up to you?" The princess shouts out angrily. Guardians have their prince surrounded. Shields are prepared and bows are ready. The prince dares not to touch his own walls. "Princess Snow White. You have an ethereal beauty. But you are selfish and so demanding. I cannot marry such a greedy person like you!" The prince says. "Bold prince. I wanted to take it easy on you. But you had your chance and you killed it. Where is your future wife? Have you concealed her?" The princess asks. He doesn’t like the smirk on her face. The more he looks at her, the more his throats tightens. Her white dress cannot keep his eyes from seeing the darkness she possesses. "If the princess allows me, I’d like to speak with you in person." He gets interrupted by the impatient princess. "Enough! You had your time. You decided to send me an invitation to your wedding. But you sent me an invitation to your funeral instead. Now stand there and watch the circumstances that you bought for you and your kingdom." Says the princess. Knights bring the cleric and his naive follower. A rocky platform is put in sights. The prince don’t see to where they take the old man, but he notices a knight with a heavy sword. Arms laid over his gruesome sword, standing all staid and ready to slay. Rays of death already shine from his crystalline headgear. "I only ask once. Leave your castle and come down to me with your wife." She says and gestures meaningfully with her finger. "Princess, that man is a sacred man. Be careful with your thoughts, because you might cross the limits." The prince warns her. His warning means nothing to her. It all goes silent for a bothering moment. On the edge of life and death the princess is the one who decides who lives and who dies. There’s a sting in the glare of her eyes. A sting that burns more red than any fire. "Behead him!" The princess says it at last. Her knights hit the old man onto the rock without mercy. "No. Hold your men. You cannot do this." The prince yells from the walls. "Oh I can. And this is just the beginning, prince." She says and holds up her hand. The old man chokes on the rock. The great sword rises to the shining of the sun. All eyes on the walls stare at the risen hand of the princess. And in the breathtaking moment, suddenly her hand falls. Princes's scream silences the impact of the blade that falls on the cleric's neck. A brain full of prayers and orders of god falls on the ground. It stumbles in blood not so different from other heads that might fall day to day. The poor follower faints at once. It is the prince whose nerves freeze up from the shock. She looks up to him with a cranky smile. "This is the first outcome of your bold behavior." She says and continues as her knights bring a great battering ram close to the gate. "You will set off these walls with your wife. Or you can hide behind them and watch as I level them to the ground." She says and her voice rages. "I will kill your people and rip your beloved girl apart and throw her shreds to the wolves. You can hear them howling over her pieces later when I’m pulling your heart out of your chest!" She turns her back and heads it to her tent. The prince is fallen over the wall, watching as the head of his cleric rolls over the ground and leaves a trace of blood behind.