“Ah, if I only had a child!” sighed the Queen.
“Yes; a little boy,” said the King.
“Or a little girl,” retorted the Queen. “Don’t you know any faeries, my dear, who would gratify our one desire?”
“No,” replied the King, shaking his head sadly. “My great-grandfather was the last person who ever saw a faery; no one has ever seen one since.”
“I don’t believe they exist,” said the Queen angrily.
“Oh yes, they do,” observed her husband. “This palace is said to have been built by faery hands.”
“I don’t believe they exist,” declared the Queen again. “If they did, they would surely help me by giving me a little girl or boy. What’s the good of faeries if they don’t help you?”
“I wish they would help me,” sighed his Majesty; “all my subjects are getting so unruly that I don’t know but what there will be a revolution, and they’ll put some one else on the throne.”
“Who else could they find?” asked the Queen curiously.
“Oh, I’m not certain of that,” replied the King. “You see, my grandfather, who was the first of our dynasty, ascended the throne by the help of the faeries, and the king who was deposed vanished, but they say some of his descendants live there;” and he pointed downward to the city.