The first time I saw him I was entranced by the beautiful golden boy that skipped merrily with his hands intertwined with a woman, probably his mother judging by the wonderful cobalt eyes they shared. Ten years of age while I was 15, 15 years and already too mature because of being forced to take over the thrown.
He was a blossom, I decided; A delicate blossom that must not be touched, so it may reach its maturity. Even if the blossom must not be touched, the garden around it must be carefully tended for the flower's blooming as to truly let its splendor shine.
So I planned and plotted, waiting my time as I gathered cards to benefit my hand. One came easy enough, the fact that his father simply thought more of the King's wishes then that of his sons. When I met his father, a Duke, at a ball, I simply complimented him and his lovely family that came alongside him.
The Duke drank up the attention like a willow tree water, and I soon let a seed grow into his mind. It was simple really, just a bottle of liquor and sighing "Your son- Alfred was it? - is a rare treat in this hideous world. Will I ever find as lovely of a person to make my Queen?"
I watched as the seed took root, quickly making him come to a conclusion. "You could marry him, your majesty. He is lovely to look at, so much like his mother, and he grows fairer by the day!" I encouraged this talk while acted as though I was the least bit interested in the marriage proposal.
In the end my planning made the day when I could hold and touch and own such a beautiful flower came close. The mother cried when told the news, I'm sure. The news that in a couple of short years the beautiful flower she was tending would be given away at the tender age of 16 to a 21 year old man.
Whatever happened in that household I know naught of. I'm positive they battled late into the night with softly (as too not awaken their sleeping children), but strong never less, words as their swords. The decision was final, and the day when I would be entitled to claim of such a rare treasure came.
When I saw Alfred I fell in love again. His golden hair was combed except a stray strand and a simple tiara was placed on his fair head. A dress that suited him hung just snug enough to show his body type but was not too revealing.
His face! Oh, how stunning. The cheerful boy that I once saw still had a rounded face, but with sharper angles to it. His ocean eyes were misted and tears welled up at the corners, making his face redder and so kissable. So I did, after the vows and ring exchange of course. Alfred tasted wonderful.
He tasted so much better afterword, even if he seemed resigned to his fate or even just cold to me, he was young and his body responded to my touch easily. As I took him on the night after the wedding I was astonished at how striking he was as he moaned and squirmed under me.
One golden flower was not enough. I turned to the nation's best magicians and scientists to create a way to make some little 'blossoms'. Old magic and New science created a serum that enabled Alfred to bare children. My cousins were naturally upset that they would not follow me into being ruler of the land.
After a long nine months, Alfred gave birth to two beautiful children. Ashley (Alfred's mother's name) Rose Kirkland and Arthur (Junior) Jones Kirkland were born into the world with grace, beauty, and intelligence. They were given the best schooling and material wants, as I couldn't help but spoil the perfect children.
Even as the two newest blossoms bloomed, the first rose was wilting. Alfred grew sick and no matter what I attempted he only got worse. In the darkness of winter, Alfred died as most flowers seem to do in that season. I lost my most cherished possession to the cold hands of death.
The worst information seemed to be that Alfred truly didn't love me. I heard whisperings from friends and family that Alfred, my lovely Alfred, wrote to close friends of want of his freedom. This claim was searched and people with such letters were uncovered, and a wonderful assistant by the name of Kiku and Alfred's own brother were sentenced to death.
Only thing that saved Alfred's brother, Mathew, was that he was a paler version of Alfred. If Alfred was gold, then Mathew was silver. He was a year younger than Alfred, Mathew only 26 to my 32. If I could have I would have settled for sliver since the gold had been taken and hidden in Hade's treasure room.*
Mathew was married to another however, a loud brash man with white hair and red eyes. I had had my taste of gold anyway, and sliver was such a weak comparison to gold.
My thoughts turn to Alfred- lovely Alfred! –as I breath my last breaths. Ashley was married off, little Arthur 19 and well prepared to ascend the thrown and find a queen. Arthur sat by my side as I was reading for the journey into afterlife.
I told him breathlessly, as I lay dying, a few words of encouragement. And one rule of live to remember; "No matter how fair the flower it will wilt. Flowers wilt: they wilt from old age, from lack of proper care, from sickness, and from lack of freedom for their branches to grow."
Yes I realized now, too late, that Alfred could not grow. He could not experience the world and taste the wonders. That was why no cure was fond for his sickness, since Alfred was not just sick; he was being killed from lack of freedom.
My last breath was borne onto the gentle wind from a window left open for me. "Alfred. oh, my wonderful rose, I love you."
Hi! Well, I might have some issues, since I keep writing depressing stuff. This came to my in the dream realm, kind of crazy right? Okay let's clear stuff up!
1. The Arthur mentioned is Arthur's son that shares his name.2.
The first time I saw him I was entranced by the beautiful golden boy that skipped merrily with his hands intertwined with a woman, probably his mother judging by the wonderful cobalt eyes they shared. Ten years of age while I was 15, 15 years and already too mature because of being forced to take over the thrown.
He was a blossom, I decided; A delicate blossom that must not be touched, so it may reach its maturity. Even if the blossom must not be touched, the garden around it must be carefully tended for the flower's blooming as to truly let its splendor shine.
So I planned and plotted, waiting my time as I gathered cards to benefit my hand. One came easy enough, the fact that his father simply thought more of the King's wishes then that of his sons. When I met his father, a Duke, at a ball, I simply complimented him and his lovely family that came alongside him.
The Duke drank up the attention like a willow tree water, and I soon let a seed grow into his mind. It was simple really, just a bottle of liquor and sighing "Your son- Alfred was it? - is a rare treat in this hideous world. Will I ever find as lovely of a person to make my Queen?"
I watched as the seed took root, quickly making him come to a conclusion. "You could marry him, your majesty. He is lovely to look at, so much like his mother, and he grows fairer by the day!" I encouraged this talk while acted as though I was the least bit interested in the marriage proposal.
In the end my planning made the day when I could hold and touch and own such a beautiful flower came close. The mother cried when told the news, I'm sure. The news that in a couple of short years the beautiful flower she was tending would be given away at the tender age of 16 to a 21 year old man.
Whatever happened in that household I know naught of. I'm positive they battled late into the night with softly (as too not awaken their sleeping children), but strong never less, words as their swords. The decision was final, and the day when I would be entitled to claim of such a rare treasure came.
When I saw Alfred I fell in love again. His golden hair was combed except a stray strand and a simple tiara was placed on his fair head. A dress that suited him hung just snug enough to show his body type but was not too revealing.
His face! Oh, how stunning. The cheerful boy that I once saw still had a rounded face, but with sharper angles to it. His ocean eyes were misted and tears welled up at the corners, making his face redder and so kissable. So I did, after the vows and ring exchange of course. Alfred tasted wonderful.
He tasted so much better afterword, even if he seemed resigned to his fate or even just cold to me, he was young and his body responded to my touch easily. As I took him on the night after the wedding I was astonished at how striking he was as he moaned and squirmed under me.
One golden flower was not enough. I turned to the nation's best magicians and scientists to create a way to make some little 'blossoms'. Old magic and New science created a serum that enabled Alfred to bare children. My cousins were naturally upset that they would not follow me into being ruler of the land.
After a long nine months, Alfred gave birth to two beautiful children. Ashley (Alfred's mother's name) Rose Kirkland and Arthur (Junior) Jones Kirkland were born into the world with grace, beauty, and intelligence. They were given the best schooling and material wants, as I couldn't help but spoil the perfect children.
Even as the two newest blossoms bloomed, the first rose was wilting. Alfred grew sick and no matter what I attempted he only got worse. In the darkness of winter, Alfred died as most flowers seem to do in that season. I lost my most cherished possession to the cold hands of death.
The worst information seemed to be that Alfred truly didn't love me. I heard whisperings from friends and family that Alfred, my lovely Alfred, wrote to close friends of want of his freedom. This claim was searched and people with such letters were uncovered, and a wonderful assistant by the name of Kiku and Alfred's own brother were sentenced to death.
Only thing that saved Alfred's brother, Mathew, was that he was a paler version of Alfred. If Alfred was gold, then Mathew was silver. He was a year younger than Alfred, Mathew only 26 to my 32. If I could have I would have settled for sliver since the gold had been taken and hidden in Hade's treasure room.*
Mathew was married to another however, a loud brash man with white hair and red eyes. I had had my taste of gold anyway, and sliver was such a weak comparison to gold.
My thoughts turn to Alfred- lovely Alfred! –as I breath my last breaths. Ashley was married off, little Arthur 19 and well prepared to ascend the thrown and find a queen. Arthur sat by my side as I was reading for the journey into afterlife.
I told him breathlessly, as I lay dying, a few words of encouragement. And one rule of live to remember; "No matter how fair the flower it will wilt. Flowers wilt: they wilt from old age, from lack of proper care, from sickness, and from lack of freedom for their branches to grow."
Yes I realized now, too late, that Alfred could not grow. He could not experience the world and taste the wonders. That was why no cure was fond for his sickness, since Alfred was not just sick; he was being killed from lack of freedom.
My last breath was borne onto the gentle wind from a window left open for me. "Alfred. oh, my wonderful rose, I love you."
Hi! Well, I might have some issues, since I keep writing depressing stuff. This came to my in the dream realm, kind of crazy right? Okay let's clear stuff up!
The Arthur mentioned is Arthur's son that shares his name.
And the * is because I made a Greek mythology allusion to Hades, God of the underworld and treasure (since treasure is often found in the ground).