The Prince's Secret

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The early morning sun shone over the Green paddocks bathing them in golden sunlight. The beautiful scenery of south-west England was calm and quiet, just like it should be on such a magnificent July morning.

On the far side of the large meadow, standing by the forest line was a small, handsome cottage, named Ivy Cottage, built in greystone. In that cottage lived Oliver and Isabel Green, a respectable couple in their sixties who enjoyed nothing more than their quiet, peaceful life in the countryside. Mister Green was a shepherd and a wool supplier for a local retailer. Mrs Green, his wife – an avid gardener and baker. Their neighbours knew them as genial and friendly, but not very sociable. In fact, Mister and Mrs Green preferred to keep to themselves. Indeed, their cottage was located in a rather remote part of Honington where sheep and horses were often seen more frequently than people.

Up until ten years ago, Mister and Mrs Green had led a rather uneventful life. Oliver Green would lead his flock of sheep onto the meadows in the morning, and Isabel Green would work in the small vegetable garden in the back of the cottage. Up until ten years ago, neither Mister nor Mrs Green would have suspected that on one cold November night, their lives would change forever.

It was ten years ago that Isabel Green woke up in the middle of the night to someone hammering on the front door. Her husband Oliver slept with such deep slumber that an entire army of intruders would fail to wake him up. Mrs Green lay awake for a minute or two, wondering what she should do. After another series of loud banging noises at the door, she decided to take matters into her own hands – just like she always had.

Mrs Green peered through a bedroom window looking out on the front yard. Someone was standing at the doorstep, but the night was so dark she couldn't tell who it was. She tiptoed downstairs, only to hear another loud bang on the door. This time, a voice accompanied the noise.

'It's me, Isabel, open up!'

Mrs Green, whose hands had been shaking slightly, let out a deep exhale of relief.

'Severus!' she sighed. 'You've scared the life out of me...'

'Please, Isabel, open the door.'

Mrs Green rushed to the door and unlocked it. On the threshold stood a young man dressed in long black robes. Once the light of the hallway lamp hit his face, it revealed a stringy, pallid looking figure with a sallow face and long greasy hair that framed his face in curtains. He walked inside, and Mrs Green let out a small yelp.

She noticed that the man was holding something in his arms. Something that looked like a small bundle of blankets. She stood before him for a moment, and their eyes met.

'Severus,' whispered Mrs Green, her voice tight. 'What is this?'

The man she called Severus didn't reply. Instead, he unveiled the blankets and revealed a small baby girl, fast asleep. Mrs Green took her from him with trembling hands.

'Her name is Leilla,' stated Severus.

'What- why- '

'She's an orphan,' he replied bluntly. They stood in silence for a while, looking at the child's tiny face.

'I've sworn to care of her, Isabel,' said Severus, and Mrs Green looked at him with her eyes wide open. 'I vowed to take her in.'

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Years had passed since that memorable November night. On the outside, the cottage looked just like it did back then: quiet and peaceful. On the inside, however, strange things would often take place; things that no ordinary person in Honington would believe to be true.