The Stone Prince
. . . . . Out of breath, she stopped in the center of the garden clutching her chest as her heart skipped a beat. Before her, a statue stood, on a dais above dying roses, arms out stretched, face down turned, an expression of such sadness and beauty that at once; the princess fell in love with the statue of the prince. He had to be a prince, the crown upon his head, the sword at his side, and the crest upon his clothing told her so.
Then every night, after her father tired and the servants found their beds, the princess slipped from her room, out into the garden. There she danced before the prince, lay kisses upon his stone cheeks, whispered secrets into his stone ears and lay her head upon his stone shoulders. Unnoticed, the garden changed around her with every visit. The over grown bushes receded, the thorny roses lost there brambles and the sad statues seemed a little less, unhappy. . . . . .
Copyright © 2011 Wynter Rose
All rights reserved.
Cover Art By Nada Meeks
Cover Art By Nada Meeks
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