[ FF ] Sad story about disability

Once upon a time ( come on, an entire story in four paragraphs is begging to be told like this ), in a far away land, there lived a princess with long, flowing golden hair. Her eyes were fresh violets and her hands were smooth, delicate pink roses. She very rarely spoke to anyone-in fact no one had ever heard her speak- but she often smiled in a gentle, coy way that lit her entire aura up with romance. She was to be married soon, at the age of 16, and so far no witches or wizards had swooped her away, and she had n't been cursed, and she had n't known anything other than pleasure, though that could only really be guessed at, for she rarely spoke. 
 
 She worked very hard at her lessons, of course, delighting her 12 governesses and single mysterious and handsome male teacher. It appeared obvious to everyone that the two should marry as they obviously were in love with one another, though no one could really be sure, as the princess rarely spoke. 
 
 It was a lucky couple, everyone thought so. She, lucky because despite her lack of speech such a wonderful man would take her, and he considered lucky because of her charm and the fact that she was a princess ( albeit not the one receiving the throne ). They were to be wed in August. One day however, the girl's English governess who was lovely all in herself with sparkling brown eyes and cinnamon hair received a note that said only three words. Scandalous words. I bet you can figure them out. She received this note once every day by cover of night leading up to August. One such night, ( as she had told her mother of the notes, who was a conniving selfish woman of 32 ) the messenger was spotted and followed back to the quarters of the bride-to-be and her fiancee. 
 
 The young man was brought harshly from his chambers into the torchlight of the kingdom's justice system and proclaimed guilty of adultery, which through the kingdom into such a rage they did n't wait for midnight to lynch his jail cell. The princess awoke bewildered to the sounds of the angry cries of the mob, and the faint, desperate screams of her fiancee and governess. Climbing on to her balcony, the princess watched, horrified as the town tied the man and woman's hands to stake and set fire to the straw beneath. She did n't scream as the two struggled to free themselves and then slowly allowed themselves to go limp, drugged by the smoke. A patch of fire had floated lazily towards her turret, and she solemnly crumpled a piece of parchment on which she had written three scandalous words on, and blotted her tears with it, casting it into the fire when she was done. When she returned to he room she lived in, a maid was waiting for her, assuming her tears to be a product of the girl's only future as a wife smoldering outside, but then no one could be completely sure. The girl's tongue had been cut off years ago.
