Having recently completed a series of posts (first one here) on the Chronicles of Narnia, a fairy tale series for children, I thought I’d return to my personal writing archives for a fairy tale of my own. (It’s easy to figure out fairy tales are a genre I love.) The story will be broken up into five parts. Here’s the first part below.

A prince customarily has his own way about things. Therefore, when the Crown Prince of the land, a young man reared in palace splendor and gifted with the talents and magnificent physical features from a thousand generations of royal descent, came to his father the King with a request, the King was disposed to fulfill it, even though he was not convinced his son had made the best or most timely choice.

“I have found her, Father, the woman who pleases me more than any other in the kingdom. Her beauty is without equal, her intellect is superb, and she is devoted to me as the Queen is to you, Sir.” The Prince’s eyes glowed with the light of awakening love. Although the two men were dining together, the Prince showed scant appetite for the delicacies on his princely plate. His only thought was for the woman whose smiling countenance played vivaciously in his thoughts.Certainly the King and Queen had eagerly awaited this occasion, agreeing the Crown Prince needed a supportive wife at his side. And children — the royals must be assured a line of succession. But now, the King wondered at his son’s seemingly hasty decision. The Prince had never brought his beloved to the palace, had given no clue how he met the damsel. Maybe what irked the King more than anything was that his son had not consulted him before the choice had been made. Still, things were changing throughout the kingdom. Young men and women were increasingly independent, demanding autonomy such as the King had never expected in his own youth.

Reluctantly, the King set aside his doubts. “My Son, I am pleased for you. What is your request?” Noticing his son had not eaten, the King eyed the Prince’s full plate. Having been blessed with a healthy appetite, the King rarely left his table until the food was fully eaten. Setting his own plate aside — it was more of a platter, actually — the King commandeered his son’s plate of food and consumed it in a matter of moments.

The Prince was too overcome with lovesickness to observe or object to the King’s maneuver. “I need your blessing, of course, Father.” His smiles were subconscious, spilling over from a full heart.

With an inelegant lick of his fingers, the King decreed, “You have it, my Boy! My most hearty and enthusiastic blessing! When do we meet her?” The King was a towering man with a towering voice. His spontaneous pronouncements — loudly, ferociously bellowed — were a constant source of trouble for the royal household staff, for the walls shook and the plaster sometimes cracked from the noise. Usually, he tried to restrict his outbursts for outdoor occasions, but he would not contain his jubilation on this auspicious day.

As much as they could possibly do, considering the Crown Prince’s distracted state of mind, the King and his advisors began earnest plans for the royal wedding.

When at last the girl was brought before the King, he found himself duly impressed. The Prince’s description of her — “Lovely and brilliant” — had been understated.. “Tell me about yourself,” the King commanded. “First, your name. Advent seems quite an unusual name for a young lady.”

“Indeed, m’Lord. Everyone seems to think so, but my parents thought it an appropriate designation to herald my birth.” While Advent maintained a respectful deference to the King, she did not seem intimidated by his royal position.

“Did you have a nickname? Addie or something like that?”

“Never, Sir. My parents would not have allowed it.”

The King understood the current fashion of young people in the kingdom to adopt names other than their given names. A son who had been named Colin at birth might now prefer to be called Rubiar or even Morning Dew. It was a trend the King had little patience for and refused to tolerate within the palace. “And what do you think? Do you think the name’s a good fit for you?”

“Yes, sir. I like my name. It is, in a word, who I am.”

The King pursued this line of thought. “Tell me more.”

More than an hour passed as the young woman told the King about herself and her family. He learned her parents were deceased, that she had two younger brothers, Baruch and Cambric, both citizens of a faraway kingdom. He learned she was conversant on almost any subject the King suggested. She was gifted with numerous talents, from her musical ability to her bird-calling skill. If she lacked proficiency in any area, the King did not find it that day.

And from observation, the King could attest to the most important quality of all:  her devotion to the Crown Prince was profound.

The King recognized Advent was everything he had hoped for his son. She would do good for the Prince and honor him as long as there was breath in her. The King believed no other couple had been so finely matched as they.

At the sumptuous wedding feast, the jubilant King rose from his seat at the head of the long, finely appointed table and declared, “Today, I am a happy man! My son has found an excellent wife. Drink up and share my joy in this day.” He raised his crystal goblet in a toast and every person present toasted and cheered the Prince and his bride.

Following the lavish wedding ceremony as the couple embarked on their honeymoon, the King might also have experienced a spark of jealousy. Tears gleaming in his eyes, he was heard to whisper to his Queen, “Isn’t young love a thing of inspiration?” By his own admission, the King was hopelessly romantic.

… Part 2 tomorrow.