The Peasant and The Prince
Prince Roas watched in disgusts as a thin, dirty boy walked up to him with a bowed head.
‘’My Prince, what is it you ask for your eternal love?’’ The Prince thought of his question, and pondered about his answer. With a mischievous smile plastered on his face The Prince responded:
‘’Roses. Beautiful, fresh roses.’’ The Prince knew it was impossible finding fresh roses in this harsh snow. The determined boy gave the Prince a curt nod before walking quickly out of his sight.
As the dirty boy walked away he thought of how to get fresh roses for his Prince. As he walked outside onto the harsh cold, fresh snow lay flat on his once beautiful garden. The boy’s once well trimmed rose tree curled into itself as if trying to fight off the cold.
The dirty boy walked up to it and crouched underneath it’s now withering hands.
‘’What is it you need, boy?’’ The tree asked.
‘’Roses. Beautiful, fresh roses.’’ The boy responded solemnly.
The boy’s rose tree thought of this and said to him:
‘’Is your heart pure, boy?’’ The dirty boy thought of this, then nodded slowly.
The tree shook off the snow that had fallen onto it and said to the now snow covered boy:
‘’I know of a way to get all the beautiful, fresh roses you need boy.’’ The peasant’s eyes lit up as he stared at the tree.
‘’How? All the roses are frozen and dead now.’’
‘’If a heart as pure and innocent as yours touches the sharpest thorn I have, near my heart, it will fill my now dead roses will life.’’ The boy thought of this, yet only ecstasy could fill him as he thought of his Prince’s reaction to roses in the winter.
‘’How long will it last?’’ The boy asked his tree, excitement clear in his scratchy voice.
‘’As long as your purity.’’ The tree responded, dead leaves bristling.
The boy kneeled before his once beautiful tree, and slowly and very carefully pressed the thorn into his chest.
‘’Can you sing, boy?’’ The dirty boy thought of this, and nodded to his tree.
‘’Sing, it will help the roses.’’
So the boy sang, he sang and sang and sang until he noticed the small bud of a rose forming in the tree.
‘’Sing more boy! It will work faster.’’ The tree urged. The boy winced as the thorn pressed deeper into his chest, but not reaching his heart.
A small pink bud formed, and then another... and another. The boy’s once scratchy voice was now like that of a beautiful dance. It filled the air and swirled around the once cold tree.
The small pink buds bloomed quickly into bouquet sized roses. The tree hushed the boy, and told him to remove the thorn.
The boy grinned from ear to ear, as his pink face stared at the roses.
‘’They are beautiful, and fresh.‘’ He whispered to the tree.
‘’Yes, now go boy. Take the roses.’’ The now content tree let the boy pick the roses off, and watched as the boy scrambled back into the castle.
The boy held the bouquet to his Prince, and watched as his Prince sat shocked.
‘’H-How? It is snowing out.’’ The boy sheepishly said nothing and handed him the bouquet.
‘’Will you mine now, Prince? And give your eternal love to me?’’ The dirty boy asked this with widen eyes. Prince Roas took the bouquet of roses and studied them.
‘’They are not as beautiful nor fresh as I want.’’ The Prince threw the bouquet onto the floor, and took his boot and slammed it onto the roses.
While Prince Roas watched the dirty, peasant boy walk solemnly away, he noticed that the boy’s once vibrant green eyes seemed dull. And his once red cheeks were now a faint pale.
The boy cried silently that night, but went back to the tree the very next day. Which made it a Tuesday.
‘’What is it, boy?’’ The tree asked the boy.
‘’The roses were not as beautiful nor as fresh.’’ The crying boy responded.
‘’We may try again, boy. But this time with my thorn much closer to your heart. You must also sing much more.’’ The boy agreed to this, for all he could think of was the love of his Prince.
The boy was rejected everyday, and went back to his tree everyday. He tried and tried and tried, until it was the very next week. Which made it Monday.
The boy had tried to win his Prince over for a week now, yet no matter how red the roses were, Prince Roas was never satisfied.
The boy sat underneath his tree once more, he had cried so often that it began to wipe away the dirt on his once dirt stained face.
‘’Tree, what will happen if your thorn pierces through my heart?’’ The tree thought of what to tell the boy that sat crouched underneath his sagging leaves.
‘’My thorn will take all the purity and life from you within five minutes. But, it will cause all rose trees to give off different colored roses and even white roses.’’ The boy thought of this.
‘’For how long will this last, tree?’’ The dirty boy asked as he wiped his frigid cold fingers onto his sleeves.
‘’It will last forever, even years from now in another harsh storm. All roses will survive, and will be all colors.’’
So the boy kneeled in front of his tree, unbuttoned his tattered shirt and pressed his chest onto the thorn. The boy then began to sing to his tree. The tree bristled happily at the sound of the boy’s beautiful voice. The boy leaned closer to the tree... and closer and... closer.
The boy’s voice hitched for a moment as the thorn pierced through his heart. His pale body trembled, but he still continued.
‘’Stop now, boy! You’ll kill yourself!’’ The tree warned him. The boy had been so lost in his thoughts, that he hadn’t noticed dozens and dozens and dozens more of fresh white roses sprinkled all over his tree. With a pale, trembling hand the boy picked up the rose and stood up.
He smiled faintly at his tree, and walked slowly to the castle.
When the boy arrived he dropped to his knees, and held up a pristine, beautiful, fresh, white rose. The Prince immediately stood up and took the rose from the dying boy.
‘’A beautiful, fresh, white rose...’’ The Prince muttered as he stared at it.
Just as the Prince was going to agree to the boy’s wishes, the Prince glanced down, and saw only a pale, thin body, lying at his feet.
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