Stolen Flower, Stolen Heart

Tripping, tumbling goes my heart as I stare at the world in front of me. The flicker from the flame of the the torch making the shadows dance and part of me wishes to dance along with them. The night was dark and deep, the air, crisp and cold. It was the type of night you would be wise to stay inside, but your heart would long to be free. To be in the embrace of the fresh air outside.

I’ve never been able to deny my heart, it ruled with an iron fist. My brain always left to fix the problems it creates. Tonight, oh tonight, I’ve never been so glad to let it sit upon it’s thrown. For tonight, I was able to meet my true love, or what I hoped to be.

It was the rose garden where I met him as he reached to pluck a flower from a bush. His dark skin nearly blended in the night while his bright eyes became glittered gems in the low light.

“I do hope you are not planning on stealing the last flower before fall can take it,” I called to him. His hand froze above the petals before he spun to face me. “Stealing from the royal family has a high price to pay.”

“My lady,” he said, his voice shaking as though the cold air was giving it a chill.

“As much as I would like to give you the flower, I do not have the power to do so myself,” I told him, my lips curving into a smile I had not felt on my face in years. “Why did you risk the wrath of the head of France for a flower,” I inquired, unable to stop the question from spilling off my tongue.

He smiled softly, looking down at the pale colored blossom. “I heard a rumor, that if you plucked the last blooming flower of the royal gardens, you would find your true love,” his voice soft but a hint of sadness could be found in the whispering edge. “I have yet to find someone that could ever love me, it was a hope of mine, that the flower would be able to bring the maiden.”

He might not have left that night with a flower in his hand, but had stolen something else beyond value. My heart. True love or not, we can never be, for I am destined to marry the King. Should my soon to be husband learn what my love stole, it would be the end of both of us. But, I've never been able to deny my heart, and neither, it seems, could my thief.