E Roses

[Roses]

E

The prince lay on his bed with a sigh. He had spent the day shadowing his parents, a task that had become more frequent—and more exhausting—over the past year. To the prince’s relief, he had time to himself before dinner, though this time was never fully relaxing. Some days he spent his time catching up on work for his studies, but most days he spent dreading dinner with his parents. Every night without fail, the king and queen would talk about potential suitors and suitresses for the prince, or ask questions about his thoughts on the last young man or woman who had been a guest. Some days this could be more exhausting than shadowing his parents, and tonight he was especially dreading it. He had no interest in marriage yet. At the moment he only wanted to rest. He was about to close his eyes when a bright red caught his attention. There, under one of his many pillows, was a rose. A smile spread across the prince’s face. He sat up to observe the rose. It was from the royal gardens, there was no doubt.

The prince stood, gingerly picking up the rose before walking to his desk. On his desk sat a vase filled with roses. Some were withered and brown, only a couple of petals desperately clinging on. Some were just starting to wilt. Some were fresh and bright. The prince cherished each of the roses. To him, they were all perfect. Once, his mother told him to throw out the older roses. They were too wilted, out of place, no longer beautiful. He had refused. But when he wasn’t able to explain his attachment to

the ruby flowers, the queen had the roses thrown out. She had received the silent treatment from her son until the appearance of the next mysterious rose. The prince placed his newest rose in the vase, a small smile dancing across his face. He knew where the rose came from, but from whom, he didn’t know. The mystery was part of the fun. A prince receiving mysterious roses which came from the royal garden? It was quite a story. And not every story needs an end. At least, that’s what the prince told himself. To avoid spiraling down a path of trying to identify the rose-giver, he gazed out his window, which looked out over the royal gardens. It was his favorite view from the whole castle, especially at sunset. Down in the gardens was a boy about the prince’s age, one of the royal gardeners. The prince felt a blush spread across his cheeks, watching the gardener boy. From his window, the prince could make out the gardener boy’s dark curls from under his worn straw hat. He seemed to be planting saplings along the edge of a path that disappeared into the foliage of the gardens. Before he was caught staring, he called down. “Hello!” The gardener boy looked up, “Hello, your majesty!” “Are– are you busy?” “Always am. But yes, you can come down!” The prince grinned. This was his favorite part of the day. After all the tutors, suitors, and royal duties were gone and done for the day, he could go down to the gardens with the gardener boy. He could smile. Meeting with the gardener boy hadn’t started out this easily. A couple of times, while accompanying his parents on tours of the gardens, he had caught glimpses of the gardener boy, and he became curious. A couple of glimpses turned into watching from his window. Which turned into the occasional

evening visits, and eventually an easy friendship. Well, to the prince it wasn’t quite friendship. There was a reason after turning down marriage offers, he chose to talk with the gardener boy almost every night. There were reasons, countless reasons, the prince loved him. The prince snatched his cloak from his nightstand. He raced down winding staircases and through empty hallways, fumbling with his cloak clasp as he went. After his mad dash through the castle, the prince reached the garden. Light from the sinking sun sent glowing patterns of orange, pink, and yellow dancing across the stone walls.

And there he was. Leaning on a shovel, looking towards where he knew the prince would emerge. The prince felt his blush return, hoping it was disguised by the warm light. “So, how was your day, your highness?” the gardener boy called as the prince made his way towards him. The prince laughed, “I’ve told you, call me prince, if you must call me by one of my titles.” “Well then, how was your day, my prince?” My prince. “I’m, uh, it was okay.” The prince fumbled for words. My prince. “Just okay? Come on, your majesty, you’re the prince! The pride and joy of this kingdom. Surely your day wasn’t just ‘okay,’” teased the gardener boy. “Oh, you’re right! How could I forget? Today I went on the wildest adventure and conquered a dragon! Is that exciting enough for you?” The gardener boy laughed, and the prince’s heart filled with happiness. His laugh. A reason I love him. “Yes, my prince, that’s exciting enough for me. And how did you defeat this dragon? By singing it a lullaby and stealing its treasure as it slept?” His imagination.

His humor. The prince faked a gasp, “How did you find out? I thought I made sure nobody told you until I could.” “The news is all over the kingdom! In fact, I heard some guards talking about your triumphant victory. As I said, you’re our pride and joy. How could I not know?” The gardener boy grinned. “Well, I’ll have to have a word with the guards about their gossiping,” the prince huffed, crossing his arms with fake annoyance. The gardener boy smiled. The prince froze. His smile was so real, so genuine, so pure. After a moment his arms fell to his sides and he smiled back, their eyes meeting. There they were, the prince and gardener boy, smiling at each other. And this moment was better than any of their banter, their window conversations, their shared laughter. This was real. A ringing bell broke into the perfect moment, and they both jumped. “Oh, well, I should probably head to dinner.” “I guess I need to get back to work, this–um-“ The two boys talked over one another, the prince backing away and starting to jog towards the castle, the gardener boy grabbing his shovel. “Bye! Promise you’ll tell me about any more dragons you conquer!” The prince turned back, catching one last smile from the gardener boy before heading inside. “Don’t worry, I will!”