The Sculptor and the Princess

The bridge that connects our Earth to the Moon where the royal family resides only freezes for a month a year; the rest of the time it is a treacherous stream of rushing water. During this month, the royal family traverses down to greet a select number of us, those who have been most successful and contributed commerce, innovation, and art to our nation.

 I, being a second-rate sculptor, did not receive this honor, and I did not expect to. Although this meant I was forbidden to see the ice bridge, because all the ballads and paintings praised it as the ultimate wonder of the world, on the first day of the month I snuck to the very end of the bridge in the early morning before the royal family was scheduled to arrive. It wasn’t technically against the rules. There was nothing that said I couldn’t see the bridge itself. As soon as I heard the royal family’s footsteps I would leave, and it would be like nothing had ever happened. Or at least, that was what I told myself. 

I quietly approached the ice bridge, looking every which way in case guards were posted. I held my breath as I slithered my way to the edge of the bridge, lest the white wisp of smoke that exited my numb lips with each exhale reveal my position. At last, I made it to the bridge without incident. Its sharp and intricate edges stood out against the lush snow, its gently sloping handrails beckoning me closer. A cluster of snowflakes fluttered softly down and settled on the ice. Some legends said that a most beautiful voice could be heard singing in the ice. I pressed my ear to the rail and listened intently. If I concentrated hard enough, I could hear a faint twinkling and a hint of words I just couldn’t make out.

I didn’t mean to meet the Princess that day. Truly. I was so engrossed in trying to decipher the stream of words that I didn’t hear her approach. It was just her, and her footsteps were so dainty I probably wouldn’t have noticed them anyway.

“Hello,” she said. Her voice was so delicate and high-pitched I thought at first it was the ice speaking to me.

“Hello,” I replied reflexively, then jumped when I looked up to see her staring at me. What would they do to me? I had heard countless tales about the royal family rounding up rulebreakers and chucking them into the unbreathable void of outer space. I had never believed those stories, but what if they turned out to be true?

“I’m not sure you’re supposed to be here.” I expected her to chide me, threaten me even, but I detected a faint note of amusement in her voice.

“Oh, um, I can leave? And please don’t tell anyone?” I cringed at the helplessness in my voice. 

The Princess laughed, a beautiful sound that seemed like it had leapt up from the ice bridge itself. 

“No, no, don’t leave! Who are you? What do you do?”

“My name is Adonia, and I’m a sculptor.” I reached out to shake her hand. It was probably forbidden, but she was just so mesmerizing. Long white lashes framed her magnificent blue eyes. Silky white locks draped her ethereal face, and her fair skin was tinged a rosy pink in the icy cold.

Amazingly, she took my hand without hesitation. “Princess Melpomene.” The syllables flowed like water over her tongue. “I’m delighted to meet you. May I ask why you’re here?”

“Oh, um, I merely wanted to see the ice bridge. I’ve heard numerous legends about it.”

“Did it live up to your expectations?”

“Yes, I was listening to the twinkling inside. It seemed to be saying something.” I only realized how crazy I must sound after the words left my mouth, but Princess Melpomene didn’t seem to care.

“I used to listen to the ice bridge all the time as a child. I could have sworn I heard it singing.” 

Suddenly I heard not the fabled singing but the urgent noise of approaching footsteps.

Princess Melpomene turned to look behind her, her white locks floating in the air like angel wings. “Ah, the rest of my family is approaching. Come back here at the same time tomorrow.”

She bid me a farewell smile, and I scurried off before the more unforgiving members of the royal family could spot me.

The next day I followed her instructions and returned to the foot of the bridge. There she stood, in all her excellence, dressed in a long and luxurious baby blue coat. 

“Your–Your Highness.” I blushed, and I couldn’t help but feel naked in my dull gray coat made of scrapped materials.

“Please, Melpomene or Mel would suffice,” she said. “I want to see your art. Sculpt for me, will you? I’ll sing for you in the meantime.”

Princess Melpomene’s talent for singing was famous across the nation.

“It would be my honor,” I said. “Only, I didn’t bring any materials with me.”

She gestured around us. “Use the ice.”

It just so happened that I had my trusty chisel inside a tattered pocket. Under her brilliant blue gaze, I gathered a pile of ice to use for my sculpture. As for my subject, I had already decided on it. What better Muse than the woman who stood in front of me? As I began to carve out her delicate features, trying to capture the curve of her waist and the way her hair settled over her shoulders, she sang. Her voice was every bit as beautiful as the legends claimed, even more so, in fact. I was reminded of old tales of sirens luring sailors to their deaths with songs. But rather than fear and compulsion, I felt utmost serenity.

“The Ocean loved the Moon

and the Moon loved the Ocean…

But they can never meet…

Never meet, never…”

Her lovely voice and the melancholic song consumed my brain and before I knew it I had finished my sculpture. 

“Aw, is that me?” she asked, pretending to be bashful. “You’re the sweetest!”

She threw her arms around me, and although it was freezing cold it felt like a hot summer day, the way my face instantly heated up. I awkwardly wrapped my arms around her willowy form in return. 

Every day that month we met at the same location. I created several more sculptures of her: smiling, winking, singing, dancing, lounging about… Finally, on the last day before she would have to leave and return to the Moon, the tension between us got to be too much. I was finishing up the last details of her face when suddenly she grabbed my hand.

“Adonia,” she said with great solemnity. “You feel this too, don’t you? This connection we have?”

I nearly dropped my tools. “Mel.” The syllable exited the warmth of my mouth as a puff of white smoke in the freezing air. “I…”

I couldn’t finish my sentence. I reached my lips to hers and closed the distance between us. The kiss lasted for what felt like an eternity before we came up for air, our cheeks flushed and not because of the cold.

“Adonia, we can’t do this.” The passion that had overtaken her voice just moments ago now died and gave way to regret. 

“Because I’m a commoner? And we’re both women?”

“Yes…I need to protect you. My family, you know how my family is. Enforcing the royal code and all that.”

“But what if I don’t want protection? What if I want you?”

“And what if I want to keep you safe?” Mel pointed to the sun, hiding behind a thick layer of clouds. “Our month here ends today. And then we won’t see each other until next year. By then, maybe you’ll have forgotten all about me.”

A hint of sadness tinged her voice. I squeezed her hand tightly. “I won’t forget you, Mel. Not when you have been my Muse. I will never forget you for as long as I live.”

“I will never forget you either.”

As I finished up my final sculpture, she sang that old song again, from the heart.

“The Ocean loved the Moon

and the Moon loved the Ocean…

But they can never meet…

Never meet, never…”

Never, never… These words rang through my head as I returned to our spot each day even though she had long since returned to her palace on the Moon. Eventually, the ice began to melt, and I could no longer see what I had preserved of her image. Never, never…

Finally, a full year passed. I returned to our old spot with glee, crouching behind a thick pine tree in case another member of her family were to arrive first. I saw first the King, leading the procession with his heavy gait, and then the Queen, and then Mel’s brothers. But I did not see Mel. 

I camped out there for a week, waiting for her to show up. But she never did. Was she disgusted by what we had shared? Had something awful happened to her? At last I saw the headline in the town paper: Royal Family Announces Princess Melpomene Will Be Unable To Participate In Annual Visit, Says She Is Undergoing Treatment For “Certain Afflictions Of The Head.”

“Certain afflictions of the head!” Now, wasn’t that a roundabout way to phrase things? I felt relieved she wasn’t ill or had chosen not to see me, but where was she? Was she being kept against her will?

As I prepared to leave our spot, I heard the ice bridge calling to me. I heard the voice now, clearer than ever.

Seek her, seek her, seek her…

This. Was. Insane. No citizen who cared about their life in even the slightest measures would ever do such a thing. Yet, I found myself caring for Princess Melpomene, a woman I had known for a mere month, more than my own life. I hummed her song to myself as I crossed the ice bridge.

“The Ocean loved the Moon

and the Moon loved the Ocean…”

Day after day, night after night, I trekked up without pause. I don’t know why I expected this plan to work. Love truly makes one a fool. Eventually, this was doomed to end badly. One night by the railing, when I had almost succeeded in humming myself to sleep, I heard a sharp voice.

“Who is this commoner? Is she the sculptor girl our daughter went on about?”

“Yes, yes, I believe it is her.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s–”

Before I could hear the end of the sentence, suddenly the ice below me collapsed. Cold water splashed onto my face. I woke with a start. The bridge was melting prematurely!

I made a pathetic attempt at paddling around, but what good would that do? There was no way I could swim all the way to the bottom again. As the water rose higher and higher above my head, despair and acceptance sank into me. This had been a fool’s journey, and now I would suffer a fool’s fate.

“No! Stop!” Before the darkness could consume me, I heard an achingly familiar voice. Mel. 

“Step back!” the King boomed.

Mel ignored her father’s command and a flashing white light came flying out her hand. The ground beneath me turned solid again, and I took a huge gulp of air.

“Melpomene! What is this madness?”

“I love her!”

Her brave declaration stung my heart. I reached into my pocket but my tools had been swept away by the water. I couldn’t defend her against her parents.

“We’ve said this before, love only exists in storybooks! It certainly doesn’t exist like…like this!”

The Queen moved her hand and I braced for the ice to turn to water again, but not before a soothing voice seemingly spoke from the frosty sky.

“Stop. I will not allow this.”

The four of us gazed upward.

“Who are you?” the King asked, narrowing his steely eyes in suspicion.

“I am the Ocean, an old lover of the Moon on which you reside. It is my spirit that sustains the ice bridge, and it is my spirit that will not allow you to melt it.”

“The Ocean? You have been cast away long ago, ruled as subservient to the Moon. You have no power in this realm.” The Queen’s haughty voice made my empty stomach churn. 

The Ocean sighed. “Yes, that is true, unfortunately. But I will not let myself be run over so easily. One day. One day out of each year, you must let these two young lovers, the artist and her muse, reunite.”

The Ocean’s voice was as authoritative as a presenceless being’s could be. The King and the Queen seemed to recognize her power.

Finally, the King sighed in concession. “One day. We shall grant you one day.”

Now, on the coldest day of each year, the ice bridge forms at the Ocean’s mercy and I make my way to our old spot. We make snow angels and laugh until our cheeks hurt. She sings me her songs and I try not to count the moments down. I carve ice sculptures of her that I know will melt before long, then try to remember their images as I wait for the next year to come.