Finding her horse where she’d left it by the stream, the princess led the now recuperated animal back to the side of the road before answering.
“Because that well will grant wishes to the right sort of person. And I do believe I am that right sort of person.”
“Oh sure, dearie. Everyone thinks that they’re the right sort. But that’s for the well to decide, not you. I've heard the stories of that place. We all have. Like one fella drank from it and he got turned into a newt. And there was one lass like yourself went up there to the well and came back down with two extra heads - they were charging people to see her at a traveling freak show last I heard. Oh and who could forget that poor bloke who got his knob melted clean off for trying that well. You don’t want to end up like that, do you?”
“Well I appreciate your concern,” Catherine scoffed, climbing back up into the saddle. “But the risks I take are for the good of the kingdom and are mine alone to suffer should I be rejected. Also I don’t have a knob to melt off anyway.”
“All right then, dearie. Don’t say I didn't try tah warn you.”