Wide Awake
One
Ruled by an old king and his young queen, Briar Rose was known for its remarkably good-natured climate and fertile terrain. Plump, luscious fruits grew from healthy, green trees under the ever-present gentle sun. Game, fat from the land's bounty, were plentiful and always provided a perfect chase for the kingdom's hunters. In the short winters, there was snow; soft, cottony puffs of frozen cold drifting down and gathering among the pavement. In the spring, warm breezes caressed the soft, rosy cheeks of children as they played in lilac-covered fields. And at the start of the summer, a procession – led by the king and his wife – pattered across the cobbled streets of the town; jesters and soldiers, horses and carriages, music and games, following behind them, leaving only a trail of glee and delight in its wake.
The king and queen had rested peacefully atop their throne for only two years before the birth of their daughter. It was autumn, the leaves shifting into a beautiful array of orange hues, and on the night of her birth, it had rained. The rain, like any other weather to hit Briar Rose, was a comfort. The constant splash of water against the streets, the windows, the rooftop...it was soothing for the queen as she pushed the squishy, wet child into the world. When she cried, the midwife gently placed her into the waiting arms of her mother and father, both belly-deep in murky red water and crying with joy.
For a month, as was customary, the child was kept within the castle's walls. Other than her parents and her nurse, no one was allowed to lay eyes upon her, and for good reason. There was legend that spoke of the fickle nature of beauty. It was a gift bestowed upon a child at birth but only loosely adhered. It could be easily stolen. It could be misplaced. This beauty was new and not yet permanently instilled within the child, and so it was at a constant search for a new home in the form of any passerby willing to have it.
At the month's end, with her beauty forever attached, the child was revealed to the rest of the castle. The cooks and cleaners cooed, the royal dressers and king's consultants basked in the glow of her radiant innocence. Upon seeing the child smile, hearts skipped and fondness grew. She was well loved, and would be loved more once her debut to the entire kingdom was made.
The king and queen had rested peacefully atop their throne for only two years before the birth of their daughter. It was autumn, the leaves shifting into a beautiful array of orange hues, and on the night of her birth, it had rained. The rain, like any other weather to hit Briar Rose, was a comfort. The constant splash of water against the streets, the windows, the rooftop...it was soothing for the queen as she pushed the squishy, wet child into the world. When she cried, the midwife gently placed her into the waiting arms of her mother and father, both belly-deep in murky red water and crying with joy.
For a month, as was customary, the child was kept within the castle's walls. Other than her parents and her nurse, no one was allowed to lay eyes upon her, and for good reason. There was legend that spoke of the fickle nature of beauty. It was a gift bestowed upon a child at birth but only loosely adhered. It could be easily stolen. It could be misplaced. This beauty was new and not yet permanently instilled within the child, and so it was at a constant search for a new home in the form of any passerby willing to have it.
At the month's end, with her beauty forever attached, the child was revealed to the rest of the castle. The cooks and cleaners cooed, the royal dressers and king's consultants basked in the glow of her radiant innocence. Upon seeing the child smile, hearts skipped and fondness grew. She was well loved, and would be loved more once her debut to the entire kingdom was made.