Princess Fleabag nuzzled open the circular window with her snout and slipped onto the veranda. With the grace and agility of all cats she hopped over a ledge, danced along a length of wall and slipped up onto the roof of the pink Starcastle. At the other side of the roof the giant Hippoheid, Watcher of the Kingdom of Littlecats, gazed out over the lands beneath. Hippoheid was an enchanted gargoyle’s head built on top of the Starcastle to act as the eyes for the Littlecat Kingdom and Guardian of Peace. Today, though, he was Fleabag’s prey.

The cat crouched as low as she could, flattening herself against the floor and began to inch her way forward. She turned her front paws over so that her claws would make no sound on the stone roof and then crept ever nearer to the giant head.

Slowly…

Silently…

Inch by tiny inch.

When she reached pouncing distance she paused and readied herself, watching the Hippoheid for any sign of movement. Silently, she turned her paws round and arched backwards, her whole body tense and ready to strike. She waited patiently; the blood pumping in her ears, the thrill of the final lunge contracting every muscle, every nerve, tense and poised in this her moment of glory, and then…

“Good morning, Princess.” Hippoheid’s booming voice broke the tension the moment Fleabag jumped giving her such a surprise that she leapt in completely the wrong direction and tumbled forward head over tail into a very unladylike heap in front of the gargoyle who pondered her curiously.

“Whatever are you doing Miss Flea?” he asked despite knowing exactly what the little cat was up to.

“Erm, nothing,” squeaked the Princess hopping to her feet and wandering to the roof edge, “the roof was slippery. It must have been raining.” She studied the sky looking for guilty clouds. Hippoheid followed her gaze but apparently the clouds were all hiding.

“That’s funny,” he said, grinning, “I’m sure I would have known if it had rained.” Fleabag turned on all four heels.

“Oh shush, you big stone head, you know fine well what I was doing, I’ll get you next time Hippo, you wait and see.” Hippoheid chuckled.

This of course was a daily ritual between the two best friends. Princess Fleabag would stalk the giant head and though he always knew she was there, he allowed her an extra inch each time. One day he might let her catch him.

Maybe.

The Princess flopped onto the roof in front of Hippoheid’s mouth, the warm rhythmic breath from his enormous nostrils blowing gently back and forth over her fur. This was her happiest times lying in the sun with her best friend, looking down over the Kingdom.

The Pink Starcastle sat atop a natural hill in the middle of a vast plain of rolling grasslands and so offered views down the gentle incline of all the houses and streets of Littlecat Kingdom. Hippoheid, Watcher of the Littlecats, could see almost all that went on in the lands below.

“So anything interesting happening today?’ asked Fleabag as she groomed her tortoise shell coat.

“Well as a matter of fact there is,” replied Hippoheid. He spoke with a sudden graveness, a tone the Princess knew all too well. Immediately he had her attention. “A terrible thing has occurred,’ he said, ‘one of our people has a broken heart.”

“No!” cried the Princess, “How could this happen? There’s not been a broken heart in our lands in over three centuries.” She listened patiently as the gargoyle described the morning’s events.

“It was early this morning, Princess, not long after the sun had risen. The Kingdom had just begun to awaken. Shopkeepers were setting up their stores and some hunters were just heading out to catch some early birds when I saw him. He came from the lands in the east and his name is Lapan. He stole into the city with speed and stealth and headed directly for a tavern, where he has caused the owner untold heartache.”

The Princess miaowed in horror. “No please, not them. Which tavern was it, Hippo?” The gargoyle lowered his eyes for he hated to he his friend upset and he knew his answer was the one she did not want to hear.

“I’m sorry Princess, it was the Laughing Furball; it is your friend Spangle who is heartbroken. Lapan entered the tavern and cast his spells upon the beautiful Anastasia and an hour later she followed him out of the tavern where they sped off together towards the lands in the east.”

“I can’t believe it,” cried Flea, “my two friends without each other. Lapan must be a powerful magician to break their bond.”

“He is indeed, Princess. I think that is why he chose them. There is no love in all the lands like that of Spangle and Anastasia. A bond like theirs is not easily broken and the fact that he has achieved such a thing will dishearten all of the Littlecats and show us all just how powerful he has become.”

The Princess leapt to her feet and paced back and forth swiping the air angrily her claws unsheathed. “We must do something quickly; we must rescue her and stop Lapan.”

“Princess, Princess, you must calm down. Lapan’s time will come and you will face his magic in due course, but this battle is not yours. This spell can only be undone by Spangle and it is him you must help. You can only help Anastasia by helping Spangle, he is her only hope.”

“You’re right as always Hippo,” agreed the Princess, “but Spangle has had his heart broken and you know as well as I do that no magic can fix that, how can I mend a broken heart, its impossible?” The Gargoyle yawned sleepily.

“Mending a broken heart is indeed impossible, little one,” he said as he closed his eyes and went to sleep.

“I don’t understand,’ she told the sleeping giant, “and I know you’re going to pretend to be asleep and let me figure out the answer myself. It’d be so much easier to just tell me… Hippo?” The gargoyle remained silent.

The Princess left the rooftop dismayed, she rubbed her cheek affectionately against Hippoheid as she left and descended the outer steps to the castle gardens. As she followed the familiar route to the Laughing Furball she thought about what the Hippoheid had told her.

“Mending a broken heart is indeed impossible.” So what could she possibly do to help? Magic can’t fix a broken heart, at least no spell she knew so how could she help her friends? The Princess knew there was an answer she just had to figure it out.

She reached the Laughing Furball to find the door had been left open. Inside the place was as it always was this early in the day; empty and quiet. Empty that is apart from one booth in the corner of the bar where a black and white, dishevelled, red eyed cat was slumped, staring gloomily at the bottom of an empty milk saucer. Fleabag approached Spangle as he clumsily poured more milk into his saucer. When he spoke she realised that this was not his first saucer of milk.

“Ahh Princess, Princess, what an honours it is to meets you again. Please forgive me for the state you find me in your majesties, I’m alone with just a saucers of milk for company.’ He clumsily motioned toward the saucer which flipped over spilling milk across the table. “Oopsh a daisies, good thing I own this place your majesty,” he whispered as he began lapping at the milk on the table.

“Oh Spangle, stop it!” said the Princess fiercely. Spangle pulled back from the table sheepishly and looked down at his milk soaked paws. “And stop calling me ‘your majesty’ too.”

“I’m sorries, Flea. It’s just that it’s Anastasia, you see she’s…well, she’s…It’s just that…wahh!” and with that he burst into tears. The Princess sighed heavily as Spangle wailed and bawled. How she wished she could cast a spell to make him feel better, but his heart was broken and no magic is strong enough.

“Why did she leave me?” Spangle blubbered. Tears rolled off his whiskers and splashed into the spilled milk, “What has he got that I don’t? I mean really is his fur softer than mine? Has he got nicer whiskers than me? You can tell me Flea, I can take it, it’s his tail isn’t it, it’s longer than mine?” The Princess moved round the table and put a paw round her friend as he sobbed uncontrollably into her fur.

“Of course not Spangle, it’s none of those things. Anastasia loves you.”

“She loves me?”

“Of course she loves you,” said the Princess and that’s when the answer came. “She loves you. That’s it, she loves you!” She jumped to her feet leaving a blinking, sniffling and very confused Spangle to watch her as the answers formed in her head. “Of course she loves you. You’re meant for each other, your souls are joined. She didn’t break your heart it was Lapan. Your heart isn’t truly broken it’s only cursed, broken by Lapan’s magic. That means I can fix it!” She leapt up and down, purring and meowing and squealing for joy. Spangle sniffed utterly mystified at the happy bouncing princess in front of him.

“Look Spangle,” she explained when she saw his vacant expression, ‘”Anastasia loves you and she will always love you no matter what happens or comes between you. She didn’t break your heart; she is just under a spell. It was Lapan’s magic that took her away; it was his magic that broke your heart. The bond between you and Anastasia will always be there. That means your heart can be fixed and you can go rescue her from Lapan.”

“I can? She really still loves me?”

“Yes of course. I just need to go make as spell, it might take a while. I’ll come back tomorrow, just make sure you’re sober okay?” The Princess raced out of the tavern and up to the castle. Spangle looked at the saucer of milk.

“She loves me,” he said and pushed the saucer away.

The next morning the Princess returned to the tavern carrying a piece of silver thread in her mouth. Spangle was perfectly sober and had groomed himself clean and looked altogether more handsome than he did the previous morning. Fleabag dropped the silver thread at his feet. It sparkled in the light and Spangle could tell it had some kind of enchantment or magic laid upon it.

“I’m sorry Spangle this is the best I could do,” began the Princess, “I’m not the best magicat in the Kingdom and so I can’t give you something to solve your problem but I can give you this choice: This silver thread will mend your broken heart, but you must choose how you wish it to work. If you swallow the thread it will bind your heart together and you will no longer feel any pain of losing Anastasia.

“The second option is to tie this thread around your neck. Its pull will lead you to Anastasia but you must live through the pain. I cannot help you in any other way; if you wish to rescue Anastasia you must break the spell on your own. If you fail and don’t swallow the thread, you must live with the pain forever.” The Princess stepped back and lowered her head to allow Spangle to decide on the best choice.

His heart was heavy in his chest and the pain of Anastasia’s absence was like nothing he had ever felt before, how easy it would be to swallow the thread, then search for her without the burden of sorrow, but would he ever find her? If he tied the thread around his neck he would be led to her but what if Lapan’s spell was too strong, how could he live the rest of his life with this unbearable pain? He took several minutes to decide. Several times he glanced at the Princess but she continued to stare at the floor, it was his decision and his alone. He knew Anastasia would want him to swallow the thread and so stop the pain and live a happier life, so maybe that’s what he should do, that’s what she would want.

Eventually and with a resolute miaow he picked up the thread in two paws and tied it firmly round his neck. The Princess purred with delight and leapt up to kiss his cheek.

“Brave Spangle,” she said. “So very, very brave.”

“Thank you, your majesty,” he replied, “for everything.”

“Please stop calling me your majesty Spangle; I’m your friend Fleabag.” Spangle smiled and opened the door of the tavern feeling a small tug at his neck.

“You’ll always be my friend Flea, but today you’re definitely my Princess.”

And with that he was away and another adventure had begun.