In the Red by Elena Mauli Shapiro Read Free Book Online Page B

himself. He hovered there, halfway in. “Do you want me to go on?” he asked. Her glimmering eyes said yes.
    He drove himself in. Her back arched and her body shuddered and fat tears began rolling down her red face. He paused again and was about to ask her if it hurt too much when she bucked her hips to urge him on. He made love to her smothering her cries with his kisses while she hung on to the strength in his upper arms with both hands as if she were afraid she might fall. After, he held her as a few stray tears dried on her cheeks. He expected blood on the sheets from taking such a stubborn, dense virginity, but there was none. Only a slight metallic tang on his tongue when he kissed her slit for being so good to him.
    And she, not only despite the pain but also perhaps because of it, had finally discovered why she was born a girl. She would never forget what she had almost answered when he said he wouldn’t hurt her. She almost answered, from some recessed place she didn’t know was inside her, “You can hurt me if you want.”
    It was probably something he already knew; it was probably part of what had made him pick her out of all the girls in the world.

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    O nce upon a time something happened. Had it not happened, it would not be told. Far away, there dwelt a king and a queen who, to keep their only son at home with them, were always making him fine promises they never fulfilled. Among these promises was the hand of the young princess from the neighboring kingdom. One day, the prince grew tired of waiting, and decided to set off in search of her himself. He called for his horse and his retainers and rode away from the castle. Why had he not done this before? Truly there was nothing finer than this open prairie alive with delicate yellow flowers swaying in the sunny breeze. Nothing finer than this new freedom.
    The prince came upon a large rose tree with outstretched branches by a silvery stream. He dismounted to stretch himself. As he cupped the glinting water from the brook in his hands to quench his thirst, he heard a small voice sing out from the tree,
    Beloved rose tree, open for me,
    Let me cool my face in the pure brook
     that bathes your roots
    And pluck your sweet blooms to deck my brow.
    The rose tree unfolded and its center parted to reveal a golden-haired maiden so beautiful that the prince was dazzled as if by the sun. She stepped out from the tree’s dark gash to wash her delicate feet in the bracing flow of the cold stream. When the prince had recovered his speech, he approached her and said, Lovely maiden, if you will give me a flower from your girdle, I will give you rooms in my palace.
    Impressed by the frankness of his manner and his ornate clothes, the maiden assented, giving him a tight white bud that augured an intoxicating fragrance in its full bloom. The prince asked for a kiss, promising that he would have her rose tree transplanted to his palace garden. When she gave him her darling pink mouth, he asked for the rest of her, swearing that he would make her a princess. Like most young maidens, the girl believed his flattery and gave him all that he asked for and desired. After, they fell asleep, entwined.
    The prince woke before the girl, mounted his horse, and went on his way with his followers, leaving only a bunch of flowers in the lap of his sleeping conquest. Journeying on, he arrived at a golden palace studded with topazes. He asked the first man he met whether there dwelt a young princess in the palace. Yes, said the man, here dwells the Princess Lexandra, and I am the king, her father. The king was glad to extend an invitation to the prince with the view of his soliciting the hand of his daughter, for he’d heard of the prince’s great wealth.
    For some days, there was great merrymaking and pageantry in the palace. The prince found the princess as lovely as she was good, and willing to receive his attentions. His future father-in-law was