The Princess, however, felt differently. A maiden wants so little to make her happy. The eternal day was not long to her; her King was with her through its everlasting hours, and summer would never leave them and their love would
never die. Had she only known whether Beryl was safe, her mind would have been quite at rest.
Meeting her Lord one day in the palace gardens, she read the agony in his face; and after listening to his plaints, she gently, though fearlessly, reprimanded him.
"Methinks, dear love, that we shall all be punished yet for thy discontent. Thou art placed upon the throne of a great kingdom as its sovereign. Thy subjects are true and loyal. Thy betrothed, as is well known, is neither clever enough nor good enough to fill the high post for which thou hast selected her; but she loves thee, and would lay down her life for thee without regret. She sends her favourite maiden on a quest which is fraught with much danger; on the accomplishment of that mission thy happiness depends. It succeeds; but the royal attendant does not return. Time visits the Village of Youth no more; and yet thou dwellest in its vernal freshness, ill-content."
"Thou hast good cause to reproach me, dear one, erring only when thou dost affirm that she whom I love is not worthy to be my Queen. Were I but fit to tie her sandal or kiss the hem of her robe, I were glad indeed."
He took her in his arms and pressed her to his heart, while the hot sun beat down upon the weary village.