Once upon a time there was a world. This was not the world we live in, mind you, but it was a world all the same. And within that world was a country and between the boundaries of the country a kingdom.
Of course this kingdom had its Queen and King and a Princess as well. Princes are never princes until the world makes them so. But there must always be a princess. In this kingdom, I believe those who traveled there called it Lumineux, there was a little princess known as Bijou Verre. See how forgetful I am becoming, children?
Anyways, Bijou Verre was a very bright girl, a very kind child indeed. I know this because once upon a time, I used to be a maid in the very castle of which I speak of. Oh yes, your Grandmére was in high places once. Ramona, don't shift so much, my bones are not as good as they once were, and Petré, come sit by me and let me tell you this story, for it might be my last...
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King Bisera was a very wealthy man. Inherited from his father was a kingdom so vast, riding a month in any direction would still leave you deep within its borders. He had a loving family of three sisters and a young brother of seven, much too young to be any threat to his throne. His wife was beautiful and dainty, prone to shy smiles and ethereal grace.
His court adored him, and his people would gratefully throw themselves before a sword if their wonderful sovereign was at risk. But even with all this bestowed upon him, the king found that he was lacking a teensy, tiny bit of happiness in his life. In his heart of hearts, his greatest desire in life was a daughter, but so far, his dear wife had proved to be barren.
This little wish began to grow, gnawing at him until it was all he could think of and he imagined a little cherubic child with his mischevious eyes and his wife's curly honeyed locks while he was supposed to be listening to the problems of his people, watching the young playful squires play with wooden swords and picturing a non-existent girl fending them off with ease. He gazed sightlessly at the large, white stoned archway at the entrance of his castle and envisioned a shy, blushing young woman striding slowly down the path in a flowing white dress as he held her hand on his arm, leading her to her enamored betrothed.
Of course, none of this went unnoticed by his dear Queen. After hours of tossing and turning unhappily in his bed, the king sighed and stood and paced the long room trying to ignore his hopeless longing. Within her own chambers, Queen Riosin heard his muffled steps and worriedly came to check on him. He paused in his pacing and stared out the window into the moon drenched courtyard as his wife came to stand beside him.
"Dear Heart, what ails you so?" She questioned, a soft hand rising to touch his stiff shoulder. He rubbed at his eyes, swallowing hard and looking at her cautiously.
"Riosin...do you ever feel that, mayhaps, we are lacking?" The queen hid her alarm and gestured to the world beyond the glass before them.
"Surely we have plenty," she consoled in her soft tones. "We have our people, the land, the kingdo-"
"No! That's not what I meant." The king said harshy. She flinched back; he had never spoken to her so unkindly before.
His torn expression softened slightly and he pulled her into a reassuring embrace. "Forgive me, Love. What I meant was...do you not long for-for children?"
She had never felt the tugging need to be a mother as her sisters had, but she would not admit that to her dear husband. Neither would she tell him of her curse, though at this moment, speaking it aloud would rearrange their world.
So she lied. "Children? My King, I have wished for a son to follow your path, a sweet daughter to dandle upon the knee and to teach sweet things to..."
Her heart twisted in guilt as his eyes brightened. "Truly?"
Riosin gave him a wavering smile, he thought her trembling due to strong emotion. "Oh yes, truly. Have we not been wed these past five years?"
Bisera gave a booming laugh, happier than he had been in the last weeks. "We must-we must endeavor to fufill this wish immediately!" Her face reddened as she realised what must occur for concieving to arise. He gave her an amused smile and hugged her close again.
"As you wish, my liege."
