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She slowly frees her veil from her neck and gently puts it on the waist-length, stone wall. Gracefully, she walks over to the concrete bench, and sits down. She looks at the crescent-shaped moon, and wonders about the boy she not long ago held in the womb. Holding back tears, she strips a rose off the rose bush and grips it tightly. Closing her eyes, the woman concentrates on only the rose. The rose, yellow and blooming, with huge thorns, turns a dark shade of red with no signs of any thorn, in no longer than a second. She smiles faintly, and throws the rose, so that it is in the wind’s reign. The rose reluctantly flies free into the cool, windy night. The woman’s hand started bleeding from the thorns of the rose, but she touches the wound delicately and the skin heals itself.
The king’s maiden is young and beautiful, hardly old enough to be in a relationship with a ruler of such an important country. Being wise and affectionate- people wouldn't believe she's just about to turn twenty. Keeping many secrets from the townspeople, she also holds onto one, life-threatening secret from her inquisitive husband. The woman knows just how torturous he can be, so she would never be fooled by this devious man, into telling her somewhat detestable secret.
The woman feels her husband’s eyes piercing on her back, so she swiftly walks toward her veil, returns it on her neck, and stands by the old oak tree. She casually looks out to the land, and sees all the dim lights from houses and shops. After a few minutes, when she knows the king is away from the glass window, she blows her baby boy a kiss- hoping that she is reunited with him soon. That they will never be departed ever again. It was her, as a mother’s, only desire for right now, and the only thing that would lighten her spirits or to ever make her happy again.
