I wish I could describe the king so that you could see him in your
mind. He had gentle, blue eyes, but a nose that made him look like an
eagle. A long dark beard, streaked with silvery lines, flowed from his
mouth almost to his waist, and as Irene sat on the saddle and hid her
glad face upon his bosom it mingled with the golden hair which her
mother had given her, and the two together were like a cloud with
streaks of the sun woven through it. After he had held her to his
heart for a minute he spoke to his white horse, and the great beautiful
creature, which had been prancing so proudly a little while before,
walked as gently as a lady--for he knew he had a little lady on his
back--through the gate and up to the door of the house. Then the king
set her on the ground and, dismounting, took her hand and walked with
her into the great hall, which was hardly ever entered except when he
came to see his little princess. There he sat down, with two of his
counsellors who had accompanied him, to have some refreshment, and
Irene sat on his right hand and drank her milk out of a wooden bowl
curiously carved.
After the king had eaten and drunk he turned to the princess and said,
stroking her hair:
'Now, my child, what shall we do next?'
This was the question he almost always put to her first after their
meal together; and Irene had been waiting for it with some impatience,
for now, she thought, she should be able to settle a question which
constantly perplexed her.
'I should like you to take me to see my great old grandmother.'
The king looked grave And said:
'What does my little daughter mean?'
'I mean the Queen Irene that lives up in the tower--the very old lady,
you know, with the long hair of silver.'
The king only gazed at his little princess with a look which she could
not understand.
'She's got her crown in her bedroom,' she went on; 'but I've not been
in there yet. You know she's there, don't you?'
'No,' said the king, very quietly.
'Then it must all be a dream,' said Irene. 'I half thought it was; but
I couldn't be sure. Now I am sure of it. Besides, I couldn't find her
the next time I went up.'
At that moment a snow-white pigeon flew in at an open window and
settled upon Irene's head. She broke into a merry laugh, cowered a
little, and put up her hands to her head, saying:
'Dear dovey, don't peck me. You'll pull out my hair with your long
claws if you don't mind.'
The king stretched out his hand to take the pigeon, but it spread its
wings and flew again through the open window, when its Whiteness made
one flash in the sun and vanished. The king laid his hand on his
princess's head, held it back a little, gazed in her face, smiled half
a smile, and sighed half a sigh.
'Come, my child; we'll have a walk in the garden together,' he said.
'You won't come up and see my huge, great, beautiful grandmother, then,
king-papa?' said the princess.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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