Kaji Hikage signing in,
Hi all! I told you I try and roll out the chapters quickly for you. So I am
and so I did. Here is chapter three! Enjoy and if you have the time, drop
me a line of encouragement and if not, that's okay too. ^_^
The Rose Prince: Chapter Three
Sere sat, thoughtfully twirling the stem of a red rose in her small fingers- --the peculiarity being that the rose held no thorns with which to bite her. That morning she had awoken to find it at the foot of her bed, and though it had been several hours earlier, she felt the whispered apology the boy---no, the Prince--- had left her. In a way she had been pleased but a moment later another emotion took her: sadness.
Now, it is forever a wonder the way the minds of children work, because though many appear outwardly silly and foolish, the truth is that their minds are peaceable things, something that cannot be said of too many adults. Crossing her arms, rose still dangling in her grasp, Sere paced the length of her room, which for someone her size was quite lengthy indeed--- never mind that it was nearly the size of a house.
She sighed, staring unhappily down at the rose, the quirk of her delicate eyebrows curving downward just so, as though she were upset, but pensive. If perhaps, she had not called him a Demon, maybe he would have been her friend. As many children tend to do in their innocence, kindness, naivety, or a little of all three, she re-played the entire escapade in her mind until all the wrongdoing was her own.
Once she had convinced herself---however incorrectly---that she was the one to blame for the entire conflict, she contemplated what she could do to make it up to the Prince. After all, he had given her an apology---though it might be noted that she no longer recalled what exactly he was apologizing for, it was her fault right?---and it was only proper and good to return it. Besides, this wasn't for just any Prince. Sere knew him once she had registered his features the next day and of course, instantly made the connection using her child's logic---of course child's logic is sometimes best. Especially when it's right. Contemplatively working out the kinks in her thoroughly planned apology, Sere recalled the fairy-tale that depicted this boy turned Prince so prominently. After all.
.it was for the Rose Prince.
***************************
Tale of the Rose's Heir as told/ remembered by Princess Serenity
Once upon a time, for this is how all fairy-tales must begin, there was a woman whose beauty surpassed the borders of all kingdoms. With hair as dark as ebony, a slender build, and skin unblemished and smooth, it was easy to say she was beautiful. However, it was her eyes that drew you in until there was no point of escape, eyes the color of a stormy and ever-so blue ocean.
The woman however, as many pretty ones tend to do or not do, did not know she was beautiful. After all, she wore the same village peasant dress that all the girls did, and didn't that make them all the same? It wasn't logical to her that although she might have looked different, that she was anymore beautiful than the other girls---who were indeed pretty, but nowhere near beautiful.
Aware of it or not, her body was finishing its transformation from seventeen year-old girl to eighteen year-old woman and changes were taking place. Where there once might have been a bit too much bone showing for her beauty to be perfect, flesh now sealed it away; where once there was a question of her attributes, she filled out gracefully; and where once her eyes were filled with a sparkling of youthful kindness and curiosity, there was now bright mature love and compassion in them for anyone who sought a shoulder to cry upon, or a shelter to be hidden in. She was always there. Accountable, loveable, compassionate, she was all of those things and the name they called her was as exotic as her beauty: Rose.
Mind you now that this was before the flower ever came about and every other mother, aunt, and grandmother was named Rose. Anyway.
As I said, her beauty was renowned and as such, once she turned eighteen, suitors began standing in line outside her door. Kind as she was, she would good-naturedly tell them that they would be much better off with someone else. Now of course, any sensible man would have known this as the boot and gone to find some more willing lass who would love him with all her soul and heart. Unfortunately men were and are still not known for their sensibility. And so it was that each morning the woman would find the rapidly growing line of suitors, always in the same order, and perhaps for the seventh or seventeenth time tell them the same thing:
"You are all such honest, handsome young men," and here she would pause to look at them all, and this was where the men supposedly hoped that her next line would not be, "and I know you would all be much better off and happier with another girl, one who will love you with all her heart and soul and bless you with her last breath," and that was of course, always the last line and of course, then she would walk away with the pail to go draw water.
What the suitors did not know was that this beauty was already in love, with a man foreign to the land. His hair was that of autumn wheat and his eyes were a hazel not seen in twenty years of his kingdom. Oh? Oh yes, he was in fact royalty, a King actually, looking for a bride. As a handsome man of his stature would, he attracted a fair amount of women, all of them in fact. Which was good for Rose because it kept them distracted so as not to turn on her for inadvertently stealing the attentions of all the boys.
Where was I? Oh yes: Rose was in love with this foreign king and give the man credit, he saw her and all the others melted like overused candle wax in her flame. Of course, the man kept up a good front, appearing to still be available, but when the village girls were still in the village and Rose left to "Draw water" she did in fact do so, but more importantly, she met with her lover.
It continued in safety like this for some time, the two lovers enjoying the half-intrigue and each other. Then one day a problem arose, as in all fairy- tales one must. This one's name was Prince Katai. He rode on his white horse to the front of the well-established line of suitors at Rose's door--- who had in fact befriended one another to the point of each man promising to invite each other man to the bachelor party if he should be so lucky. Though a Prince, this man was cutting in on a lot of people but before the men could protest, Rose came out and while at first startled at the Prince on his tall horse looking down at her a little too appraisingly, she quickly dropped into a curtsy.
The next things that happened were very simple and I shall explain it thus. He, Katai, offered her, Rose, the world. She, Rose, told him, Katai,
"No, but thank you very much your Highness." Perhaps the Prince would have taken her refusal better if she had not said it in the same tone she might have used to comment on the weather. Of course she meant no offense, it was not in her nature. And while the Prince knew that, he was not a kind Prince and went to demanding her hand, and when she twice refused him, he dismounted and began to follow her. He grabbed her wrist harshly and turned her to face him, demanding once more that he marry her.
SMACK!
The men shared one sincere gasp. Rose had never come close to striking anyone and what was worse was the look in her eyes; it was a sight near murderous.
"Touch me again and know that I can and will make your life miserable," she whispered loudly enough so only he could hear. And then she picked up her water pail and fled.
It was on that day that she and the king from a foreign land, whose name was Hisui, wed. Rose's parents had been informed of her romance the day it had started you see, and given their blessings. Now the couple sped off into the horizon where the castle awaited them and hereon it goes as most fairy-tales do:
They went to the castle and lived happily ever after---
---Until their child's third birthday. Their child, who they called Endymion, was toddling around the gardens with his mother and father when it happened. A man who none recognized appeared and stared at the couple, then at the boy and sneered unpleasantly---seldom is a sneer anything but.
"Who are you? What do you want?" cried the mother, Rose, holding her son back from harm. The man laughed a hideous laugh and curled and uncurled his hand to reveal some red powder, no crimson.
"For a long time I wanted you dearling, but now I see the error of my ways and acknowledge you are his," he gestured at the King who stood protectively in front of his family.
"I have waited this long to see you suffer for refusing me so--- impolitely," he decided on and threw the dust upon the family. In shimmers of red dust, the couple disappeared and there in the ground grew two tall flowers, which would later be called roses, one wrapped around the other protectively. But the boy, the boy remained as he was. This troubled the vengeful Prince who shrugged it off and went to draw his sword on the boy who sat behind the two flowers, trembling with unshed tears. It is amazing that such awful people can exist as to prey upon poor defenseless boys but much worse when that person or peoples are stronger, more experienced, and armed. The Prince swung the sword down without a second thought.
And as his steel sword hit the concrete stone of the garden floor he saw red rose petals storming where he had struck. The little boy, the prince of the two lovers, had escaped! Outraged, the evil man made his way to exit the garden but suddenly vines shot up before him, strong and impenetrable. The man reached out to try and climb it but thorns that seemed to be appearing and growing up all sides of the surrounding flora fiercely bit his skin.
This was his cage, his prison, and his fate. Two innocent lovers killed by his hand, a young boy orphaned, and the worst fate that could be given him was confinement in thorns until death for the once royalty and once magi. Still, the orphan boy escaped and as he was the heir of royalty and now that of an enchanted flora, he was known to whisper through the many gardens of places, helping the roses to grow, protecting the memory of his beloved parents, and carrying the title of
The Rose Prince. ********************
And that was the tale Sere rightly associated him with and here she was, still trying to figure out the proper apology. To insult one as a Demon was a very large insult and she felt there was no way she could apologize but in person. But how could she meet with him? He probably wouldn't come again after what she had done. she bit her lip in frustration.
She could ask Ami for help again, but for some reason she reasoned that Ami wouldn't be much help. Where Ami came from, fairy-tales were classified as fantasies that have no concrete meaning. Of course they were wrong, but there was no reason she needed to tell Ami that. After all, she could handle this on her own, right? Right.
I guess, she thought, he's always there anyway. I mean, he is the Prince of the Roses. So maybe if I just go there and apologize tonight, he'll hear me. She had no more time to think about it in any case however, because at that moment there came a knock at her door.
"Sere?" It was Ami. Bounding over to the door, Sere momentarily forgot the red rose still in her hand as she opened the door.
"Ames!" she squealed and hugged her friend. 'Ames' who was slightly embarrassed to have her nickname used before another person who Sere had not yet seen behind her, blushed and returned the hug.
"Sere," Ami paused and moved so that Sere could see the girl behind her. She was their age but looked older because of her flashing eyes that seemed to know more than they should have and the regal bearing she had that Sere knew she lacked in contrast. Not only that, but this girl was beautiful. Ami continued:
"This is our new friend, Rei. She is also a Princess," Ami finished. Sere noted the 'our' and looked at the beautiful princess thoughtfully. She seemed like she could be nice. but then again.
"What a funny hairstyle," the girl commented, lifting one of the streamers of Sere's silvery hair and eyeing it.
"It's the same as my Mama's! It's pretty!" Sere defied, jutting her chin out to depict exactly the right amount of indignation. The Princess Rei matched her movement for movement, injecting instead though, an attitude of mock surprise.
"Oh, it must be you then!" teased Rei, smiling smugly.
"Rei, please," Ami nearly pleaded with the fiery girl as she saw Sere's eyes flash with both the impudence and boldness of her youth and then glare with those same eyes.
"Someday I shall be as pretty and good and elegant as Mama! She said so! And Mama doesn't lie. I know! I know I'm not pretty at all now. but that doesn't mean you can pick on me!" Sere cried this last part and turned to run out the door of her room, disappearing down the long corridor. Ami's distressed gaze followed her and as she turned around she saw a tall brunette about their age as well, speak to Rei, her arms crossed.
"Now look, see what you did Rei? Was that necessary? We all know how bad your tongue is sometimes but must you scathe the princess as soon as you meet her?" this from the brunette.
"I, I did not mean to upset her so, I just wanted to get her a little frazzled. I didn't think she would react so violently. She's very pretty," Rei, admitted this last part quietly, looking down at the folds of her red princess gown as if she were ashamed of the gown as much as she was of herself.
"Well, the best we can do is apologize. I have yet to even meet her and my heart goes out to her," this from the brunette again.
"Sere attracts people that way." Both Rei and the brunette turned to face Ami who stood there, smiling if a little sadly. "It's the power of her heart. I think it's big enough for you Rei if you can find it in yourself to apologize to her," Ami reassured with all the safe-soundness of a mother, making her seem much less the seven year-old cultured princess that she was.
"I know," this from Rei.
"Makoto, Rei, I think I know where she has gone. We can catch her if we hurry." It was no more said than done because suddenly the princesses were no more, leaving only brushes of faint whispering air, faerie-like with lingering hues so faint they were nearly invisible, of ruby, emerald, and sapphire.
Sere was furious. In the course of less than two days, she had been both insulted and called ugly. Kicking at the ground, she was surprised to find herself once again amongst the roses. Glancing down at the rose in her hands, she calmed almost instantly. It was like a wave had crashed softly over her and serenity---her namesake---was once again hers. She could not stay angry for long. After all, she sniffed inwardly, Rei had been right. But one day she would be beautiful, just like Mama.
Taken by a sudden thought, she let her eyes rove the rose area and found a small patch of black dirt in front of part of the stonewall that enclosed the garden. It was a semi-circle really and would have looked lovely if some flowered vines were crawling over it in spades.
Sere dropped to her knees before the dark, rich earth and ran her hands through it, the earth looking sooty against her luminous skin. Then, taking a moment to scoop out a whole, she paused. Well, I know it's nearly done, I mean, the petals are fully blooming and everything, just as I found it this morning, Sere thought as she plucked the rose from the ground where she had lain it and began surrounding its lower stem with dirt in the whole. But, if this truly is a gift from Him---the Rose Prince---they must be enchanted and maybe then, they really will grow. This was her reasoning and as she dusted the dirt off of her small hands and packed it in tightly around the flower, as though she were tucking someone into sleep, she smiled a small smile of hope. Maybe this could be her way of apologizing, to spread the life of his subjects, for they could be no other's, and make them stay beautiful for all to remember.
Yes, that would be her apology and if---
"Princess?" Sere quite nearly jumped three feet out of her skin, but she settled for jumping to her feet and out of the dirt. And then she felt her heart warm. There was the so-called Demon and now to her, Rose Prince Endymion. She curtsied. Then she looked up to see him looking rather uncomfortable, and tugging at his collar.
"Um, you don't have to do that," he insisted and she stood, not unwillingly.
"I'm sorry," they both said. Endymion's blue eyes that were the same as his mother's held brief confusion in them and Sere's bright ones held question.
"Why are you sorry?" this from both of them again. It started with a small and tentative smile of exasperation from the previously annoying and somewhat rude prince, and then a returned one from the previously fuming and irritated princess. Then a chuckle, then a small giggle, then laughing, and then both of them were unabashedly chortling---that is, if children could chortle, and apparently they could.
Once her breath was regained, Sere crossed her arms and stared up at the prince. He was a head taller than her she noticed in distinct disgruntlement. That was positively unforgivable by Sere's standards normally; unless of course it was her Mama, but that was the last thing she was thinking about now.
"I said, why are you sorry? You already apologized," Sere said explanatorily, and gestured behind her to the rose, which if they had looked closely, they might have noticed, had sprouted some new leaves already. At her question, Endymion shifted, once again uncomfortable.
"Well, I didn't tell you why," he started but Sere waved it away, smiling.
"It's okay. I called you a Demon. And I meant to apologize, but by the time I realized it was my fault and who you were, you had gone and it was bright dawn," Sere explained in a hurry, hoping to earn his forgiveness.
"Well thank you," Endymion said as gruffly as a nine-year old boy could manage---yes he was about two years older than the princess but since when has age mattered to destiny?--- and then continued, "but I must tell you that I am still sorry. I lied you see. You are very pretty, and, and, I am sure you must be nice like MY mama told me princesses were," he finished, his voice somewhat lame, even to him at this point. Sere for her part was stunned. Had not Rei just called her funny looking? Was that a lie or was Endymion just being polite? She was beginning to feel the start of slight confusion.
"So. so do you think I'll be as pretty as Mama one day?" Sere asked tentatively, wringing her small, dirty hands in her white skirts. It was only then that she noticed they were her sleeping clothes and had the grace to blush lightly and then push the issue to the back of her mind; her nightgown was a dress in itself really anyway. To her joy, he smiled kindly at her.
"I think you will be prettier than your Mama," he responded sincerely.
Now one might think it odd for seven year-olds to have such high caliber conversations but really, it is that we underestimate them to a point of expecting to little that that is what we get. Truly though, these were exceptional children and wise beyond their years in different ways.
Sere shook her head, her silvery hair flying.
"No, no, no! Mama is the prettiest woman ever, as pretty as your Mama," she added shyly, but her joyous smile showing that she was clearly pleased with his answer even if she didn't believe it all. The important thing was that one-day she could live up to her mother's stature and hopefully be the woman she was, and please her this way.
"So, do you think it will grow?" Endymion gestured to the rose Sere had planted. She moved closer to him and his eyes widened in surprise but he did not back away, even as she took his right hand. She placed her tiny right palm in his large one---which was only large in contrast with hers.
"We will make it grow beautifully," she replied with genuine sweetness and knowing. One of his eyebrows quirked in a disbelieving posture and he smiled back.
"Oh? How?" he asked.
"With our friendship. As long as we are friends, these roses cannot whither, they cannot falter, they can only grow as we do," she finished solemnly, bringing their hands full circle to the right. And Endymion, though he had never known his memory to be great, remembered every word and repeated the vow. And then footsteps were heard and Sere was left alone with another rose, this one yellow---friendship. Picking it up, Sere inhaled and then set to work planting it beside the red one as three princesses came up behind her and stopped suddenly. She was not crying--- for which they were very, very grateful---but then again this was not what they were expecting. Obviously something had happened in the time it had taken them to find her; the gardens were, after all vast, and who besides Sere and her prince would know it was the roses that drew her utmost attention? Certainly not them, not yet anyway. So here they were, panting lightly, as they had ran because they had worried and now they found her with her back to them, and planting roses, fully blooming roses no less, and humming.
The Princess Serenity who not a good fifteen minutes ago had been on the verge of crystalline tears, was humming and as she finished packing the earth in tightly and lovingly around the sun colored rose and turned to them, they also saw that she was smiling.
She was smiling.
End Chapter Three
Well? Review, review, review! I know the constant asking makes me seem impatient and youthful, so forgive me my flaws, but it's just so much fun to get them and know you enjoy my work. You know what I mean, right my fellow artists? I know you do!
Ja ne,
Kaji Hikage
Kajihikage@adelphia.net
The Rose Prince: Chapter Three
Sere sat, thoughtfully twirling the stem of a red rose in her small fingers- --the peculiarity being that the rose held no thorns with which to bite her. That morning she had awoken to find it at the foot of her bed, and though it had been several hours earlier, she felt the whispered apology the boy---no, the Prince--- had left her. In a way she had been pleased but a moment later another emotion took her: sadness.
Now, it is forever a wonder the way the minds of children work, because though many appear outwardly silly and foolish, the truth is that their minds are peaceable things, something that cannot be said of too many adults. Crossing her arms, rose still dangling in her grasp, Sere paced the length of her room, which for someone her size was quite lengthy indeed--- never mind that it was nearly the size of a house.
She sighed, staring unhappily down at the rose, the quirk of her delicate eyebrows curving downward just so, as though she were upset, but pensive. If perhaps, she had not called him a Demon, maybe he would have been her friend. As many children tend to do in their innocence, kindness, naivety, or a little of all three, she re-played the entire escapade in her mind until all the wrongdoing was her own.
Once she had convinced herself---however incorrectly---that she was the one to blame for the entire conflict, she contemplated what she could do to make it up to the Prince. After all, he had given her an apology---though it might be noted that she no longer recalled what exactly he was apologizing for, it was her fault right?---and it was only proper and good to return it. Besides, this wasn't for just any Prince. Sere knew him once she had registered his features the next day and of course, instantly made the connection using her child's logic---of course child's logic is sometimes best. Especially when it's right. Contemplatively working out the kinks in her thoroughly planned apology, Sere recalled the fairy-tale that depicted this boy turned Prince so prominently. After all.
.it was for the Rose Prince.
***************************
Tale of the Rose's Heir as told/ remembered by Princess Serenity
Once upon a time, for this is how all fairy-tales must begin, there was a woman whose beauty surpassed the borders of all kingdoms. With hair as dark as ebony, a slender build, and skin unblemished and smooth, it was easy to say she was beautiful. However, it was her eyes that drew you in until there was no point of escape, eyes the color of a stormy and ever-so blue ocean.
The woman however, as many pretty ones tend to do or not do, did not know she was beautiful. After all, she wore the same village peasant dress that all the girls did, and didn't that make them all the same? It wasn't logical to her that although she might have looked different, that she was anymore beautiful than the other girls---who were indeed pretty, but nowhere near beautiful.
Aware of it or not, her body was finishing its transformation from seventeen year-old girl to eighteen year-old woman and changes were taking place. Where there once might have been a bit too much bone showing for her beauty to be perfect, flesh now sealed it away; where once there was a question of her attributes, she filled out gracefully; and where once her eyes were filled with a sparkling of youthful kindness and curiosity, there was now bright mature love and compassion in them for anyone who sought a shoulder to cry upon, or a shelter to be hidden in. She was always there. Accountable, loveable, compassionate, she was all of those things and the name they called her was as exotic as her beauty: Rose.
Mind you now that this was before the flower ever came about and every other mother, aunt, and grandmother was named Rose. Anyway.
As I said, her beauty was renowned and as such, once she turned eighteen, suitors began standing in line outside her door. Kind as she was, she would good-naturedly tell them that they would be much better off with someone else. Now of course, any sensible man would have known this as the boot and gone to find some more willing lass who would love him with all her soul and heart. Unfortunately men were and are still not known for their sensibility. And so it was that each morning the woman would find the rapidly growing line of suitors, always in the same order, and perhaps for the seventh or seventeenth time tell them the same thing:
"You are all such honest, handsome young men," and here she would pause to look at them all, and this was where the men supposedly hoped that her next line would not be, "and I know you would all be much better off and happier with another girl, one who will love you with all her heart and soul and bless you with her last breath," and that was of course, always the last line and of course, then she would walk away with the pail to go draw water.
What the suitors did not know was that this beauty was already in love, with a man foreign to the land. His hair was that of autumn wheat and his eyes were a hazel not seen in twenty years of his kingdom. Oh? Oh yes, he was in fact royalty, a King actually, looking for a bride. As a handsome man of his stature would, he attracted a fair amount of women, all of them in fact. Which was good for Rose because it kept them distracted so as not to turn on her for inadvertently stealing the attentions of all the boys.
Where was I? Oh yes: Rose was in love with this foreign king and give the man credit, he saw her and all the others melted like overused candle wax in her flame. Of course, the man kept up a good front, appearing to still be available, but when the village girls were still in the village and Rose left to "Draw water" she did in fact do so, but more importantly, she met with her lover.
It continued in safety like this for some time, the two lovers enjoying the half-intrigue and each other. Then one day a problem arose, as in all fairy- tales one must. This one's name was Prince Katai. He rode on his white horse to the front of the well-established line of suitors at Rose's door--- who had in fact befriended one another to the point of each man promising to invite each other man to the bachelor party if he should be so lucky. Though a Prince, this man was cutting in on a lot of people but before the men could protest, Rose came out and while at first startled at the Prince on his tall horse looking down at her a little too appraisingly, she quickly dropped into a curtsy.
The next things that happened were very simple and I shall explain it thus. He, Katai, offered her, Rose, the world. She, Rose, told him, Katai,
"No, but thank you very much your Highness." Perhaps the Prince would have taken her refusal better if she had not said it in the same tone she might have used to comment on the weather. Of course she meant no offense, it was not in her nature. And while the Prince knew that, he was not a kind Prince and went to demanding her hand, and when she twice refused him, he dismounted and began to follow her. He grabbed her wrist harshly and turned her to face him, demanding once more that he marry her.
SMACK!
The men shared one sincere gasp. Rose had never come close to striking anyone and what was worse was the look in her eyes; it was a sight near murderous.
"Touch me again and know that I can and will make your life miserable," she whispered loudly enough so only he could hear. And then she picked up her water pail and fled.
It was on that day that she and the king from a foreign land, whose name was Hisui, wed. Rose's parents had been informed of her romance the day it had started you see, and given their blessings. Now the couple sped off into the horizon where the castle awaited them and hereon it goes as most fairy-tales do:
They went to the castle and lived happily ever after---
---Until their child's third birthday. Their child, who they called Endymion, was toddling around the gardens with his mother and father when it happened. A man who none recognized appeared and stared at the couple, then at the boy and sneered unpleasantly---seldom is a sneer anything but.
"Who are you? What do you want?" cried the mother, Rose, holding her son back from harm. The man laughed a hideous laugh and curled and uncurled his hand to reveal some red powder, no crimson.
"For a long time I wanted you dearling, but now I see the error of my ways and acknowledge you are his," he gestured at the King who stood protectively in front of his family.
"I have waited this long to see you suffer for refusing me so--- impolitely," he decided on and threw the dust upon the family. In shimmers of red dust, the couple disappeared and there in the ground grew two tall flowers, which would later be called roses, one wrapped around the other protectively. But the boy, the boy remained as he was. This troubled the vengeful Prince who shrugged it off and went to draw his sword on the boy who sat behind the two flowers, trembling with unshed tears. It is amazing that such awful people can exist as to prey upon poor defenseless boys but much worse when that person or peoples are stronger, more experienced, and armed. The Prince swung the sword down without a second thought.
And as his steel sword hit the concrete stone of the garden floor he saw red rose petals storming where he had struck. The little boy, the prince of the two lovers, had escaped! Outraged, the evil man made his way to exit the garden but suddenly vines shot up before him, strong and impenetrable. The man reached out to try and climb it but thorns that seemed to be appearing and growing up all sides of the surrounding flora fiercely bit his skin.
This was his cage, his prison, and his fate. Two innocent lovers killed by his hand, a young boy orphaned, and the worst fate that could be given him was confinement in thorns until death for the once royalty and once magi. Still, the orphan boy escaped and as he was the heir of royalty and now that of an enchanted flora, he was known to whisper through the many gardens of places, helping the roses to grow, protecting the memory of his beloved parents, and carrying the title of
The Rose Prince. ********************
And that was the tale Sere rightly associated him with and here she was, still trying to figure out the proper apology. To insult one as a Demon was a very large insult and she felt there was no way she could apologize but in person. But how could she meet with him? He probably wouldn't come again after what she had done. she bit her lip in frustration.
She could ask Ami for help again, but for some reason she reasoned that Ami wouldn't be much help. Where Ami came from, fairy-tales were classified as fantasies that have no concrete meaning. Of course they were wrong, but there was no reason she needed to tell Ami that. After all, she could handle this on her own, right? Right.
I guess, she thought, he's always there anyway. I mean, he is the Prince of the Roses. So maybe if I just go there and apologize tonight, he'll hear me. She had no more time to think about it in any case however, because at that moment there came a knock at her door.
"Sere?" It was Ami. Bounding over to the door, Sere momentarily forgot the red rose still in her hand as she opened the door.
"Ames!" she squealed and hugged her friend. 'Ames' who was slightly embarrassed to have her nickname used before another person who Sere had not yet seen behind her, blushed and returned the hug.
"Sere," Ami paused and moved so that Sere could see the girl behind her. She was their age but looked older because of her flashing eyes that seemed to know more than they should have and the regal bearing she had that Sere knew she lacked in contrast. Not only that, but this girl was beautiful. Ami continued:
"This is our new friend, Rei. She is also a Princess," Ami finished. Sere noted the 'our' and looked at the beautiful princess thoughtfully. She seemed like she could be nice. but then again.
"What a funny hairstyle," the girl commented, lifting one of the streamers of Sere's silvery hair and eyeing it.
"It's the same as my Mama's! It's pretty!" Sere defied, jutting her chin out to depict exactly the right amount of indignation. The Princess Rei matched her movement for movement, injecting instead though, an attitude of mock surprise.
"Oh, it must be you then!" teased Rei, smiling smugly.
"Rei, please," Ami nearly pleaded with the fiery girl as she saw Sere's eyes flash with both the impudence and boldness of her youth and then glare with those same eyes.
"Someday I shall be as pretty and good and elegant as Mama! She said so! And Mama doesn't lie. I know! I know I'm not pretty at all now. but that doesn't mean you can pick on me!" Sere cried this last part and turned to run out the door of her room, disappearing down the long corridor. Ami's distressed gaze followed her and as she turned around she saw a tall brunette about their age as well, speak to Rei, her arms crossed.
"Now look, see what you did Rei? Was that necessary? We all know how bad your tongue is sometimes but must you scathe the princess as soon as you meet her?" this from the brunette.
"I, I did not mean to upset her so, I just wanted to get her a little frazzled. I didn't think she would react so violently. She's very pretty," Rei, admitted this last part quietly, looking down at the folds of her red princess gown as if she were ashamed of the gown as much as she was of herself.
"Well, the best we can do is apologize. I have yet to even meet her and my heart goes out to her," this from the brunette again.
"Sere attracts people that way." Both Rei and the brunette turned to face Ami who stood there, smiling if a little sadly. "It's the power of her heart. I think it's big enough for you Rei if you can find it in yourself to apologize to her," Ami reassured with all the safe-soundness of a mother, making her seem much less the seven year-old cultured princess that she was.
"I know," this from Rei.
"Makoto, Rei, I think I know where she has gone. We can catch her if we hurry." It was no more said than done because suddenly the princesses were no more, leaving only brushes of faint whispering air, faerie-like with lingering hues so faint they were nearly invisible, of ruby, emerald, and sapphire.
Sere was furious. In the course of less than two days, she had been both insulted and called ugly. Kicking at the ground, she was surprised to find herself once again amongst the roses. Glancing down at the rose in her hands, she calmed almost instantly. It was like a wave had crashed softly over her and serenity---her namesake---was once again hers. She could not stay angry for long. After all, she sniffed inwardly, Rei had been right. But one day she would be beautiful, just like Mama.
Taken by a sudden thought, she let her eyes rove the rose area and found a small patch of black dirt in front of part of the stonewall that enclosed the garden. It was a semi-circle really and would have looked lovely if some flowered vines were crawling over it in spades.
Sere dropped to her knees before the dark, rich earth and ran her hands through it, the earth looking sooty against her luminous skin. Then, taking a moment to scoop out a whole, she paused. Well, I know it's nearly done, I mean, the petals are fully blooming and everything, just as I found it this morning, Sere thought as she plucked the rose from the ground where she had lain it and began surrounding its lower stem with dirt in the whole. But, if this truly is a gift from Him---the Rose Prince---they must be enchanted and maybe then, they really will grow. This was her reasoning and as she dusted the dirt off of her small hands and packed it in tightly around the flower, as though she were tucking someone into sleep, she smiled a small smile of hope. Maybe this could be her way of apologizing, to spread the life of his subjects, for they could be no other's, and make them stay beautiful for all to remember.
Yes, that would be her apology and if---
"Princess?" Sere quite nearly jumped three feet out of her skin, but she settled for jumping to her feet and out of the dirt. And then she felt her heart warm. There was the so-called Demon and now to her, Rose Prince Endymion. She curtsied. Then she looked up to see him looking rather uncomfortable, and tugging at his collar.
"Um, you don't have to do that," he insisted and she stood, not unwillingly.
"I'm sorry," they both said. Endymion's blue eyes that were the same as his mother's held brief confusion in them and Sere's bright ones held question.
"Why are you sorry?" this from both of them again. It started with a small and tentative smile of exasperation from the previously annoying and somewhat rude prince, and then a returned one from the previously fuming and irritated princess. Then a chuckle, then a small giggle, then laughing, and then both of them were unabashedly chortling---that is, if children could chortle, and apparently they could.
Once her breath was regained, Sere crossed her arms and stared up at the prince. He was a head taller than her she noticed in distinct disgruntlement. That was positively unforgivable by Sere's standards normally; unless of course it was her Mama, but that was the last thing she was thinking about now.
"I said, why are you sorry? You already apologized," Sere said explanatorily, and gestured behind her to the rose, which if they had looked closely, they might have noticed, had sprouted some new leaves already. At her question, Endymion shifted, once again uncomfortable.
"Well, I didn't tell you why," he started but Sere waved it away, smiling.
"It's okay. I called you a Demon. And I meant to apologize, but by the time I realized it was my fault and who you were, you had gone and it was bright dawn," Sere explained in a hurry, hoping to earn his forgiveness.
"Well thank you," Endymion said as gruffly as a nine-year old boy could manage---yes he was about two years older than the princess but since when has age mattered to destiny?--- and then continued, "but I must tell you that I am still sorry. I lied you see. You are very pretty, and, and, I am sure you must be nice like MY mama told me princesses were," he finished, his voice somewhat lame, even to him at this point. Sere for her part was stunned. Had not Rei just called her funny looking? Was that a lie or was Endymion just being polite? She was beginning to feel the start of slight confusion.
"So. so do you think I'll be as pretty as Mama one day?" Sere asked tentatively, wringing her small, dirty hands in her white skirts. It was only then that she noticed they were her sleeping clothes and had the grace to blush lightly and then push the issue to the back of her mind; her nightgown was a dress in itself really anyway. To her joy, he smiled kindly at her.
"I think you will be prettier than your Mama," he responded sincerely.
Now one might think it odd for seven year-olds to have such high caliber conversations but really, it is that we underestimate them to a point of expecting to little that that is what we get. Truly though, these were exceptional children and wise beyond their years in different ways.
Sere shook her head, her silvery hair flying.
"No, no, no! Mama is the prettiest woman ever, as pretty as your Mama," she added shyly, but her joyous smile showing that she was clearly pleased with his answer even if she didn't believe it all. The important thing was that one-day she could live up to her mother's stature and hopefully be the woman she was, and please her this way.
"So, do you think it will grow?" Endymion gestured to the rose Sere had planted. She moved closer to him and his eyes widened in surprise but he did not back away, even as she took his right hand. She placed her tiny right palm in his large one---which was only large in contrast with hers.
"We will make it grow beautifully," she replied with genuine sweetness and knowing. One of his eyebrows quirked in a disbelieving posture and he smiled back.
"Oh? How?" he asked.
"With our friendship. As long as we are friends, these roses cannot whither, they cannot falter, they can only grow as we do," she finished solemnly, bringing their hands full circle to the right. And Endymion, though he had never known his memory to be great, remembered every word and repeated the vow. And then footsteps were heard and Sere was left alone with another rose, this one yellow---friendship. Picking it up, Sere inhaled and then set to work planting it beside the red one as three princesses came up behind her and stopped suddenly. She was not crying--- for which they were very, very grateful---but then again this was not what they were expecting. Obviously something had happened in the time it had taken them to find her; the gardens were, after all vast, and who besides Sere and her prince would know it was the roses that drew her utmost attention? Certainly not them, not yet anyway. So here they were, panting lightly, as they had ran because they had worried and now they found her with her back to them, and planting roses, fully blooming roses no less, and humming.
The Princess Serenity who not a good fifteen minutes ago had been on the verge of crystalline tears, was humming and as she finished packing the earth in tightly and lovingly around the sun colored rose and turned to them, they also saw that she was smiling.
She was smiling.
End Chapter Three
Well? Review, review, review! I know the constant asking makes me seem impatient and youthful, so forgive me my flaws, but it's just so much fun to get them and know you enjoy my work. You know what I mean, right my fellow artists? I know you do!
Ja ne,
Kaji Hikage
Kajihikage@adelphia.net