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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Teens
- Theme: Love stories / Romance
- Subject: Comedy / Humor
- Published: 06/16/2014
Love in the Kingdom of Wales
Born 1986, M, from San Antonio, United StatesIn the Kingdom of Wales, in the 12th century, there was a prince named Wolfgang and his sister, Diana, whom this tale centers around.
I am bored, Wolfgang thought to himself. He noticed the chambermaid, Clara, staring at the messenger approaching the castle. Pressed against the cold, dewy stone walls, he observed Clara, who was watching the messenger, Octavio, draw closer to the castle riding his horse.
“Oh, my—my Octavio,” she said quietly to herself, believing no one to be around. Wolfgang had to withhold his laughter for fear that she would hear him, even though he was the prince. The embarrassment alone would kill her.
As Octavio entered the main hall of the castle, Clara feigned to be sweeping the hall’s floor. She swept side to side in a brisk motion keeping her sight strictly on the path of the broom.
She was an attractive lady, middle-aged, and infatuated with love. Before Octavio, she had been in love with the lead chef of the castle and before that she had even fallen in love with a gong-scourer. Imagine that –falling in love with someone who had the worst tasks, and the foulest stench, of everyone in the castle. Clara was in love with being in love. She would fall in love with anyone that was kind to her.
Idle hands truly are the Devil’s play things, for this is where Wolfgang saw his greatest opportunity: to play a trick on the love-struck chambermaid.
“Good morning, Clara,” Octavio smiled and bowed in front of her.
“Oh! Good morning, Sir Octavio,” she uttered coyly. Octavio had never been knighted but the assumption that he had made him gleam with pride. He walked away smiling and was heading towards the meeting chamber looking for the king. A paper was rolled neatly in his hands.
Clara stood with both her hands on the top of the broomstick and her cheek resting upon her hands. She had the sickness of the heart, and it was in an advanced stage for Octavio. Wolfgang wasted no time.
“Clara?” called Wolfgang leaving his stealthy vantage point.
“Yes, my prince?” she bowed as he entered the hall.
“I bring the most joyful news!” Wolfgang began his cunning maneuver. “It concerns Octavio and his truly beloved.”
Clara’s expression transformed from excitement and joy to pain and sorrow within seconds.
“He has admitted his love for someone—”
Clara moaned.
“—for you! But he has sworn me to secrecy. However, such a noble secret cannot be kept for long—nor should it be.” Wolfgang smiled slyly.
“Oh!” exclaimed Clara in a moment of love-struck elation.
“Clara, you must not tell him that I revealed his secret; a man’s word is his honor.”
“Of course!”
“He is just waiting for the right moment to tell you,” explained Wolfgang.
Clara’s face glowed with joy.
“Also, he likes it when a woman is coy and not too eager to return his love. It just drives him wild!”
“Oh?”
“Yes!”
Clara stayed quiet for a few seconds. She wondered how she would feign ignorance of the information. She also wondered how it would be to be the fox instead of the hound. This will be a nice change! She thought to herself.
“I must go, farewell, lucky lady!” Wolfgang’s voice had a sincere tone in it.
As he left, Octavio returned from delivering the message to the king. “Adieu, Miss Clara.”
Clara ignored him and continued sweeping the floor.
“Adieu!”
The sweeping continued.
That is odd, Octavio thought to himself, she was very joyful to see me not even an hour ago! With a confused look on his face, Octavio walked outside the castle, mounted his horse, and rode off.
Clara could barely maintain the charade. “How to pretend that I do not love you, Octavio!” she murmured to herself. “If only you knew!” She rested her head helplessly on the broomstick.
Overhearing all of this from the adjacent chamber was Princess Diana. After Wolfgang departed, Diana nonchalantly walked into the hall.
“Good morning, Dear Clara.”
“Good morning, Princess!”
“You seem very joyful this morning,” Diana feigned ignorance.
“I have just received the most delightful news!”
“Oh? Is that so? May I partake in your delight?”
“I shouldn’t…well I suppose since you’re not—Octavio loves me!” She leapt into the air with the broom still in her hand.
Diana made a confused look upon hearing the news. “That’s strange.”
“What is?”
“How did you come across this strange information?”
“Your brother, the prince—why is it strange, Princess?”
“Well it’s just that Wolfgang had let me know a secret—”
“A secret about Octavio? He just told me.”
“—a secret about himself,” Princess Diana finished. ¬“Wolfgang loves you! He didn’t know how to tell you so he devised a plan to see if he would see the spark of desire in your eyes when he mentioned another man longing after you. He would probably use another man from the castle to test your devotion to him.”
“Octavio!”
“So he chose the messenger—Octavio?”
“I suppose so…”
“He even wrote a love poem about his devotion to you—I saw him write it in his chamber.”
“What would a prince want with a chambermaid?” Clara inquired with a curious tone.
“Clara! Love knows no names, posts, nobility, or peasantry—love transcends all of that.”
Clara smiled from ear to ear. “Me?”
“You, and you must hurry, I saw him walking into his chamber carrying a dagger. Saddened by his unrequited love he may take his life tonight!”
“Tonight?”
“Tonight!”
Clara thought about the way Octavio did not respond to her coyness. She thought to herself, that does not work, and so I will pursue the prince with all my heart!
Prince Wolfgang had taken a letter opener, what could also be misperceived as a dagger, and walked to his chamber with the letter from his beloved Rosa. It read:
My love,
My family and I will be very pleased to join you for dinner tonight. We will arrive shortly before dusk. I miss you very much.
All my love and truly yours,
Rosa
Clara had seen Wolfgang take the ‘dagger’ from the small table in the hall outside his chamber. “No! My love!” she exclaimed.
Out of sheer fright, Wolfgang quickly ran into his chamber and read the letter while Clara hurried after him.
Striking the thick, wooden chamber door, she shouted, “My Love! Do not take your life, I love you, truly, I do!”
What? Wolfgang wondered in his head. Does she believe me to be Octavio?
Clara continued, “We can be happy together, Wolfy, I can be the perfect princess for you!”
She’s knows it’s me but for sure she has gone mad!
“We have such a lovely life to make together! I know your feelings and I love you too; do not take your life, my sweet Wolfy! I’ll…I’ll…I’ll sing to you!” Clara began to sing a sweet lullaby for babies.
Oh my, I just may kill myself! Wolfgang covered his ears.
Clara continued her singing until a thought interrupted her melodic assault. I must look my absolute best for my love tonight at dinner. With intense excitement she scurried off to prepare her dress and the food for dinner that evening.
Down the hall, Diana was watching and laughing hysterically. It serves him right; playing with love as if it were a game, she thought to herself.
Dinner time had finally arrived at the guests were arriving in their finest clothes. Rosa looked especially stunning; her honey-brown hair was done up, showing her skin on her neck, adorned with a beautiful necklace of pearls. Her eyes held a special glow as she embraced Wolfgang before being seated. Clara’s eyes never left Wolfgang, even as she served the dinner and tended to the guests.
Rosa and her parents made small talk with everyone at the table; her father was talking about the state of the kingdom with the king, her mother was speaking to the queen about their children, and Wolfgang and Rosa were acting coyly in front of their parents. Diana interrupted them from time to time, since she had no one to talk to.
“Why is Clara staring at you?” Diana asked Wolfgang facetiously.
“I don’t know,” Wolfgang answered nervously.
“Well, she hasn’t stopped since you walked in the room!”
Wolfgang grimaced.
“I think she’s in love with you,” Diana smirked.
“Who’s in love with whom—?”
“Ladies and gentlemen!” Clara began, “I want to share my joy with all of you.”
“Oh, my,” uttered Wolfgang.
“I have a secret admirer and have found a poem that he wrote me but I would love to share with all of you now:
Your eyes are gorgeous,
Your smile, a truly beautiful sight,
I think about you all day,
And dream about you in the night;
You are my night’s moon,
You are my evening star,
It would take me a thousand years
To describe everything you are.
This lovely poem was written to me by W—”
“William! The cook!” exclaimed Wolfgang.
Clara looked at him, puzzled. “William?!”
William, the cook, came in after hearing all the commotion about his name. Clara eyed him suspiciously. “You called?” he asked.
“Did you write this poem?” Clara asked him.
During all of this, the king, queen, and guests were in shock at the drama being performed in front of their eyes.
“I am not a studied man, nor a man of words; but I am a man of love, and I have loved you for a very long time now.”
Wolfgang’s mouth dropped open, and Rosa laughed. Diana was enjoying the show as well, nearly choking on her drink.
“Well…I don’t…I don’t know what to say, William,” stammered Clara.
“There’s no need for words, my beauty, just meet me tonight in the garden, after dinner.”
“Well, of course.” It was the first time anyone had complimented Clara’s looks.
After the theatrical performance, Diana was laughing hysterically. “You should have seen the look on your face, brother!”
“And why exactly do you find this whole thing so funny?”
“Perhaps it’s because I saw what you planned to do with Octavio and Clara and intervened.”
Wolfgang looked confused and slightly angered.
“I heard you tell her that Octavio loved her so I the tables, so you wouldn’t kill yourself from the grief,” she smirked. “It serves you right anyway, playing with that poor woman’s heart is not a kind thing to do.”
“And you did no different!” Wolfgang shot back under his breath.
Diana remained silent, looking at her plate.
“Well I now realize that a truly beautiful and potentially vicious thing, and nothing to be toyed with.”
Rosa took his hand as he finished his comment, and quietly asked, “So who wrote the poem?”
Love in the Kingdom of Wales(Carlos Salinas)
In the Kingdom of Wales, in the 12th century, there was a prince named Wolfgang and his sister, Diana, whom this tale centers around.
I am bored, Wolfgang thought to himself. He noticed the chambermaid, Clara, staring at the messenger approaching the castle. Pressed against the cold, dewy stone walls, he observed Clara, who was watching the messenger, Octavio, draw closer to the castle riding his horse.
“Oh, my—my Octavio,” she said quietly to herself, believing no one to be around. Wolfgang had to withhold his laughter for fear that she would hear him, even though he was the prince. The embarrassment alone would kill her.
As Octavio entered the main hall of the castle, Clara feigned to be sweeping the hall’s floor. She swept side to side in a brisk motion keeping her sight strictly on the path of the broom.
She was an attractive lady, middle-aged, and infatuated with love. Before Octavio, she had been in love with the lead chef of the castle and before that she had even fallen in love with a gong-scourer. Imagine that –falling in love with someone who had the worst tasks, and the foulest stench, of everyone in the castle. Clara was in love with being in love. She would fall in love with anyone that was kind to her.
Idle hands truly are the Devil’s play things, for this is where Wolfgang saw his greatest opportunity: to play a trick on the love-struck chambermaid.
“Good morning, Clara,” Octavio smiled and bowed in front of her.
“Oh! Good morning, Sir Octavio,” she uttered coyly. Octavio had never been knighted but the assumption that he had made him gleam with pride. He walked away smiling and was heading towards the meeting chamber looking for the king. A paper was rolled neatly in his hands.
Clara stood with both her hands on the top of the broomstick and her cheek resting upon her hands. She had the sickness of the heart, and it was in an advanced stage for Octavio. Wolfgang wasted no time.
“Clara?” called Wolfgang leaving his stealthy vantage point.
“Yes, my prince?” she bowed as he entered the hall.
“I bring the most joyful news!” Wolfgang began his cunning maneuver. “It concerns Octavio and his truly beloved.”
Clara’s expression transformed from excitement and joy to pain and sorrow within seconds.
“He has admitted his love for someone—”
Clara moaned.
“—for you! But he has sworn me to secrecy. However, such a noble secret cannot be kept for long—nor should it be.” Wolfgang smiled slyly.
“Oh!” exclaimed Clara in a moment of love-struck elation.
“Clara, you must not tell him that I revealed his secret; a man’s word is his honor.”
“Of course!”
“He is just waiting for the right moment to tell you,” explained Wolfgang.
Clara’s face glowed with joy.
“Also, he likes it when a woman is coy and not too eager to return his love. It just drives him wild!”
“Oh?”
“Yes!”
Clara stayed quiet for a few seconds. She wondered how she would feign ignorance of the information. She also wondered how it would be to be the fox instead of the hound. This will be a nice change! She thought to herself.
“I must go, farewell, lucky lady!” Wolfgang’s voice had a sincere tone in it.
As he left, Octavio returned from delivering the message to the king. “Adieu, Miss Clara.”
Clara ignored him and continued sweeping the floor.
“Adieu!”
The sweeping continued.
That is odd, Octavio thought to himself, she was very joyful to see me not even an hour ago! With a confused look on his face, Octavio walked outside the castle, mounted his horse, and rode off.
Clara could barely maintain the charade. “How to pretend that I do not love you, Octavio!” she murmured to herself. “If only you knew!” She rested her head helplessly on the broomstick.
Overhearing all of this from the adjacent chamber was Princess Diana. After Wolfgang departed, Diana nonchalantly walked into the hall.
“Good morning, Dear Clara.”
“Good morning, Princess!”
“You seem very joyful this morning,” Diana feigned ignorance.
“I have just received the most delightful news!”
“Oh? Is that so? May I partake in your delight?”
“I shouldn’t…well I suppose since you’re not—Octavio loves me!” She leapt into the air with the broom still in her hand.
Diana made a confused look upon hearing the news. “That’s strange.”
“What is?”
“How did you come across this strange information?”
“Your brother, the prince—why is it strange, Princess?”
“Well it’s just that Wolfgang had let me know a secret—”
“A secret about Octavio? He just told me.”
“—a secret about himself,” Princess Diana finished. ¬“Wolfgang loves you! He didn’t know how to tell you so he devised a plan to see if he would see the spark of desire in your eyes when he mentioned another man longing after you. He would probably use another man from the castle to test your devotion to him.”
“Octavio!”
“So he chose the messenger—Octavio?”
“I suppose so…”
“He even wrote a love poem about his devotion to you—I saw him write it in his chamber.”
“What would a prince want with a chambermaid?” Clara inquired with a curious tone.
“Clara! Love knows no names, posts, nobility, or peasantry—love transcends all of that.”
Clara smiled from ear to ear. “Me?”
“You, and you must hurry, I saw him walking into his chamber carrying a dagger. Saddened by his unrequited love he may take his life tonight!”
“Tonight?”
“Tonight!”
Clara thought about the way Octavio did not respond to her coyness. She thought to herself, that does not work, and so I will pursue the prince with all my heart!
Prince Wolfgang had taken a letter opener, what could also be misperceived as a dagger, and walked to his chamber with the letter from his beloved Rosa. It read:
My love,
My family and I will be very pleased to join you for dinner tonight. We will arrive shortly before dusk. I miss you very much.
All my love and truly yours,
Rosa
Clara had seen Wolfgang take the ‘dagger’ from the small table in the hall outside his chamber. “No! My love!” she exclaimed.
Out of sheer fright, Wolfgang quickly ran into his chamber and read the letter while Clara hurried after him.
Striking the thick, wooden chamber door, she shouted, “My Love! Do not take your life, I love you, truly, I do!”
What? Wolfgang wondered in his head. Does she believe me to be Octavio?
Clara continued, “We can be happy together, Wolfy, I can be the perfect princess for you!”
She’s knows it’s me but for sure she has gone mad!
“We have such a lovely life to make together! I know your feelings and I love you too; do not take your life, my sweet Wolfy! I’ll…I’ll…I’ll sing to you!” Clara began to sing a sweet lullaby for babies.
Oh my, I just may kill myself! Wolfgang covered his ears.
Clara continued her singing until a thought interrupted her melodic assault. I must look my absolute best for my love tonight at dinner. With intense excitement she scurried off to prepare her dress and the food for dinner that evening.
Down the hall, Diana was watching and laughing hysterically. It serves him right; playing with love as if it were a game, she thought to herself.
Dinner time had finally arrived at the guests were arriving in their finest clothes. Rosa looked especially stunning; her honey-brown hair was done up, showing her skin on her neck, adorned with a beautiful necklace of pearls. Her eyes held a special glow as she embraced Wolfgang before being seated. Clara’s eyes never left Wolfgang, even as she served the dinner and tended to the guests.
Rosa and her parents made small talk with everyone at the table; her father was talking about the state of the kingdom with the king, her mother was speaking to the queen about their children, and Wolfgang and Rosa were acting coyly in front of their parents. Diana interrupted them from time to time, since she had no one to talk to.
“Why is Clara staring at you?” Diana asked Wolfgang facetiously.
“I don’t know,” Wolfgang answered nervously.
“Well, she hasn’t stopped since you walked in the room!”
Wolfgang grimaced.
“I think she’s in love with you,” Diana smirked.
“Who’s in love with whom—?”
“Ladies and gentlemen!” Clara began, “I want to share my joy with all of you.”
“Oh, my,” uttered Wolfgang.
“I have a secret admirer and have found a poem that he wrote me but I would love to share with all of you now:
Your eyes are gorgeous,
Your smile, a truly beautiful sight,
I think about you all day,
And dream about you in the night;
You are my night’s moon,
You are my evening star,
It would take me a thousand years
To describe everything you are.
This lovely poem was written to me by W—”
“William! The cook!” exclaimed Wolfgang.
Clara looked at him, puzzled. “William?!”
William, the cook, came in after hearing all the commotion about his name. Clara eyed him suspiciously. “You called?” he asked.
“Did you write this poem?” Clara asked him.
During all of this, the king, queen, and guests were in shock at the drama being performed in front of their eyes.
“I am not a studied man, nor a man of words; but I am a man of love, and I have loved you for a very long time now.”
Wolfgang’s mouth dropped open, and Rosa laughed. Diana was enjoying the show as well, nearly choking on her drink.
“Well…I don’t…I don’t know what to say, William,” stammered Clara.
“There’s no need for words, my beauty, just meet me tonight in the garden, after dinner.”
“Well, of course.” It was the first time anyone had complimented Clara’s looks.
After the theatrical performance, Diana was laughing hysterically. “You should have seen the look on your face, brother!”
“And why exactly do you find this whole thing so funny?”
“Perhaps it’s because I saw what you planned to do with Octavio and Clara and intervened.”
Wolfgang looked confused and slightly angered.
“I heard you tell her that Octavio loved her so I the tables, so you wouldn’t kill yourself from the grief,” she smirked. “It serves you right anyway, playing with that poor woman’s heart is not a kind thing to do.”
“And you did no different!” Wolfgang shot back under his breath.
Diana remained silent, looking at her plate.
“Well I now realize that a truly beautiful and potentially vicious thing, and nothing to be toyed with.”
Rosa took his hand as he finished his comment, and quietly asked, “So who wrote the poem?”
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