On a cloudy summer's day, when everything was peaceful and quiet, the sound of horses could be heard from across the forest. Families strained out of their windows in order to see The King and his men. The King was a rich, powerful man. Despite his upbringing of being all-powerful and looking down upon people, he was kind and gentle to all the villagers of Araven.
He was up to something, something so important he was ready to travel a considerable distance. With his men, he rode across sleet filled rivers carpeted with ice cold enough to make your heart cease and your blood run cold. He trekked up and over mountains, his Queen lulled to sleep each night, turned away from her baby, by the sound of hooves.
Soon the message spread from house to house.
"The King is coming! The King is coming!" they cheered. The happy children chirped to one another. The villagers were expectantly awaiting his arrival. Armed with dusters and cloths, they began to clean and scrub every crevice of their houses. The work was long and tiresome, but the villagers were determined to keep the village tidy for such royal status. They were ever so joyous. Why was it that they were to be visited by The King? And with his baby son! The children thought that surely Christmas day had come early! Hurriedly, they scrubbed and scrubbed until the village was spotless. They hung bunting from shop windows and strung it from house to house.
At last, as the final touches were completed and everyone was in their best Sunday outfit, in came a tall, crimson carriage with a silver lining, pulled by bejeweled horses whiter than snow. The King sat proudly in his carriage, his elegant queen beside him. They wore crowns of solid gold edged with precious jewels. Queen Caroline's dark hair lay neatly on her shoulders tied beautifully with an orange tulip, complimenting her delicate, rosebud lips. She waved gracefully to the villagers and blushed as they handed her roses, which she clutched to her ruby-threaded dress.
Golden trumpets echoed and the jolly villagers cheered and clapped merrily, as the Queen daintily left the carriage. The King followed, his face not happy but he attempted a grin which came out like a grimace. The King cleared his throat pointedly, and the chatter faded. "I'd like to speak with your mayor," The King declared. The people parted, leaving a wavering path leading to the Guild Hall.
As he went inside, they muttered to each other: "Where's the bonnie child?" One frumpy lady whispered. "And why our mayor?" her elderly sister hissed back.
"Maybe he's come to swap our children!" a drunken man boomed, laughing until he toppled over. With that, the people parted ways and rushed to their homes, the man getting off the courtyard floor, still snorting hysterically.
YOU ARE READING
The Royal Baby (Children's Book) ✔️
General Fiction'If a child (born of royal blood) is born deformed - even with a single mark wrong - then it must be exchanged for another by law' These are words The Queen must hear when she has birthed their first child. Should she and her husband swap children o...
