The Rose Garden

Chapter One

Long ago in Europe, hidden in a valley was a rose garden. Beautiful blood red roses flourish under a witch's watchful eye, her cottage a short walk from the garden. Every morning when the dew is still fresh, she will water them and remove any weeds at their little feet, creating her own fertilizer using her magic and potions.

Everyone knew of the witch and her garden, which meant no one dared to trespass and steal one of the beauties that were rumored to have a vast amount of healing power. At the base of the valley separated by a forest, sat a small kingdom, ruled by a King and Queen, their only child a beautiful princess with skin smooth and fair like silk, eyes as blue as the skies and hair like the sun. Kingdoms near and far admire her beauty, desiring for her to be their princess.

One summer day the princess fell terribly ill, physicians inside and outside of the Kingdom were unable to cure her, causing fear and sorrow in the King and Queen. Desperate to save their daughter, the King announces a royal decree.

"Any man who can collect a rose from the witch's garden and safely return may wed my daughter" Though the princess was beautiful with high status, no one dares to approach the witch and her beloved garden, rumors of werewolves guarding her treasure scaring even the bravest of men. However there was an exception, a prince from one of the poorest kingdoms heard the decree and without hesitation rode towards the valley where the rose garden resided. Riding for three days and nights on an empty stomach, the prince collapses in the witch's rose garden just as he was about to pick one of the roses.

The next morning when the witch exits her cottage, a structure carved into the side of the hill and makes her way to the garden for her routine watering of the roses, she found the prince lying there. Pale and cold she takes pity on him, returning to her cottage with him floating behind her. There she treats him until he became conscious. The prince was surprised by the witches beauty, expecting a hunched back hag with warts and long grey hair with a big nose. However standing before him was a beauty which could rival that of the princess', long wavy burgundy hair, ivory skin and beautiful green eyes enchanted the prince. She offers the prince a wooden bowl of vegetable soup which he suspiciously looks at.

"You need to eat in order to feel better" she simply said offering the bowl to him. Just as he was about to refuse her again his stomach releases a loud grumble causing red to tint his checks. A bell like laugh tickles his ears, the witch was laughing at him, causing the blush to reach his ears. Snatching the bowl from her hand, he quickly eats while the witch watches him with a bright, white smile. Contented, the witch retrieves his bowl and walks across the room to her small kitchen, washing his dishes. He took this time to look about her house. The soft bed armed with a thick quilt and fluff big pillow sits to a corner of the room near the entrance, under the window, at its foot a trunk and a little way a screen and peeking from behind it is a metal tub. To the center of the room, a big cozy chair with a blanket and a small side table with a candle stick and book. Closer towards the kitchen on the other side of the entrance, a table stacked a bit untidy with thick books and papers. In the kitchen there was a large cauldron which stood proudly in the center under a fire place, herbs dry and fresh hung from the exposed wooden beams of the ceiling or grew at the window sill in pots. The house was cozy and warm, which caused the prince to feel relaxed. The witch returned and insist that he continue to rest, pushing him into the bed and pulling the quilt over him, he attempts to argue however a loud yawn passed his lips. The witch spent most of her day tending to her beloved roses and visiting the werewolves with medicine and snacks, returning home just in time to make dinner. The delicious aroma of food awoke the prince from his deep slumber. He opens his eyes to see the table setting itself while the mud oven in one corner of the room roars, the cauldron bubbling with a spoon stirring itself. All this occurred while the witch sat at her study desk, hunch over a big book, a candle her only light. As if she felt his eyes on her, she turned her head to him and smile happily at him.