The Princess and the Farmer

Friends

In a kingdom ever peaceful and pleasant, winter would start on the princess' name day. But the feasts did not reach the home of a peasant, as their land turned lifeless and gray.

To honor the hard work of their country folk, the king descended onto them and shared his strong liquor. Citizens would drink until they turned to oak, griping without inhibition as he wasn't a stickler. The king remembered every carp and every joke, a list of problems to solve so they wouldn't get any sicker.

Then, one day, the princess was forced by her father to come along, convinced by the promise of a new toy. The whole way she grumbled and remained headstrong, until she got enamored by the farmer's... girl.

Princess Amora, with hair bronze like chestnut, always stayed by her father's side. Outside the castle, she would cling to him and never ever leave his side. Until, on that morning right after her birthday, she followed him to the small house by the riverbank. The farmer's house.

There she saw cows lying in the snow, sheep huddled together, and birds singing atop naked trees. The whole time, she held the sleeve of her father, loath to let go.

When they arrived at the house by the river, the farmer came out and bellowed so jolly the robins sang along. The old friend of the king welcomed them into his house with a warm smile and even warmer drinks.

They sat by a fire, enjoying hot milk and fresh bread. The king and farmer talked for hours, boring poor little Amora to death. But then, for the first time while being outside of the castle, the princess left her father's side—when, in the corner of the room, she saw the farmer's daughter, a girl of her age.

Amora walked up to her and asked her name. Jody. She had hair black as the night and eyes sharper than the butcher's knives. The princess then asked the farmer's daughter to play with her.

For the rest of the day, the two chased each other with sticks, sled down snowy hills, pestered sleeping cows, climbed barren trees, and tumbled across the icy river. Immediately, they became friends. Even when the sun nestled inside the mountains and night waited by the doorstep, Amora and Jody wanted to go on into forever.

The king had to pry his daughter out of the farmer's home, the little princess protesting with all her might, no toy able to calm her out of it. That night, when the fathers tucked their daughters into bed, they were told the same thing: they wanted to play more.

"Can I see her again!? Tomorrow—I want to see her again!" went little Jody.

Her father tucked her in nice and warm, making sure no snowflakes would prickle her skin. He bopped her on the nose and said:

"If you help clean out the stables and ask nicely."

"Ple-e-ease! I want to play with her again!" peeped little Jody.

"Now, now," bellowed her father. "Keep begging like that and maybe the fairy will come give it to you."

"Will she let me play with the princess?"

"Snatch you away she will!" roared her father. He threw his arms high like a bear and gobbled his daughter up, tickling her belly and making her laugh and squirm with tears. "She will ring her bell chime and steal you away! Never to be seen again!"

"No! No!" screamed the small girl. "I don't wanna go," she laughed.

"Then you better go to bed, little Jody." The father pinched his daughter's little nose.

Night turned to day.

Winter turned to spring.