The burning began at the earliest hour. His majesty, king of Otranto watched unsatisfied as the roaring flames licked over what was once the purest of white roses. All composure lost at but a petal unlit, he left no rose in his entire kingdom with even the dignity of coal before dismantling to ash, until alas, they were sealed to their fiery fate. The winds were still now, not even the tweak of a tree for encouragement nor the bravery of a whisper of the surrounding men as they watched in due apprehension to break the stillness. All that remained were the plumes of billowing exhaust tracing upwards into the air, and King Warner, as he watched from his throne until the smog faded into the midst. By dawn the white roses, together with any tracings of the burnings were destroyed, to make way for Princess Uliana that she may awaken free from terrible disturbances upon approaching her father at the castle’s centre. Many could pity with King Warner. The mere thought of being at a loss of his only beloved daughter to the foretelling succeeded admirably in making his highness tremble at the knees, and little did he intend to prolong the life of what would indicate the princess’ death. And so with this, he attributed to the hasty burning at the dread of seeing accomplished the prophecy. Soon shall the white rose sable, and with it shall intend a deceased Uliana, it was foretold. “Uliana, my daughter,” he greeted, outstretching one arm in signal for her to be seated beside him. “Father, she nodded.”
Upon realizing the princess was without food, the king signaled the peasant that some immediately be brought to her. So oblivious was everyone to how he would tamper with nature with this simplest of demands, little could anyone predict how at that very moment he begun reconstructing all that dwelled in the ash. The peasant came in, bringing to the princess’ table a small portion of bread and milk, slowly pushing it forward to her. And then he looked at her.
At this very moment he saw more of her, more of her than anyone before. Her eyes shined with a piercing shade of cobalt that gave no hint as to her thoughts. Her plump lips had the strangest curves to them; her mesmerizing face framed with scarlet red curls that dwelled at the top of her hip. Her porcelain skin shined with a blood red light reflecting off the rose blush that rested on her soft cheeks. He pushed the food closer into her, taunted by her rich aroma that filled his nostrils. Never had he smelt something so unearthly beautiful. The purest essence of lavender and rosewood radiated off her, making the peasant tremble as he moved closer and closer. He lingered there for as long as he could, for happily he would have lingered in her aroma until the end of eternity. But he was interrupted by a sniping king. “Yes, peasant?”
He squirmed away and stood against the edge of the wall where he was to wait until his majesty and the princess should finish dining. Shifting in her seat the princess took a sip of milk and ever so delicately licked her lips, creating a chilling sensation all throughout the peasant. Everything seemed to move slower. He was fixed on her. King Warner and his daughter talked of the storm approaching, and dined over meaningless conversation, but the peasant’s eyes did not stray from Princess Uliana. Shortly after she finished her bread and rose to her feet. Slender as a willow she threw her hair over her shoulders, and carried herself gracefully out. Lavender, he once again breathed in deeply.
Upon seeing the princess he retreated to the salon of the castle, where he hid in the shadows of its crevices. The desire she engendered brought the strangest sensation to the peasant. Never had a poor man craved something as unreachable as the princess Uliana. His thoughts began to brew, clawing deeper and deeper into the shadows of his brain with every thought of her sweet, mouth watering scent. No sooner could a man of such...
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