Then she turned, and, without another word, walked slowly back to the palace.
Prince Orso, for so he was called, felt terribly distressed.
“The spell is upon her,” he thought to himself. “She asks me to do what would probably kill her, or separate her for ever from all who love her.” And the King and Queen, when they heard his story, were nearly as disappointed as he.
But that very night the Prince had a strange dream. He thought he was walking in the wood near the castle, when again a chill blast, but still more icy, swept past him, and he heard a voice speaking to him. It sounded hoarse and stern.
“Orso,” it said, “you’re as foolish as the rest. Have you no trust? See what came of rebellion against me, who, after all, love my many children as dearly as does my sister of the summer. Leave the Princess to the leadings of her own heart, and dare not to interfere.”
Then with a crash as of thunder the spirit went on his way. And the Prince awoke to find that the window of his room had been dashed in by the force of a sudden gale which had arisen.
But the next morning all was again calm. It almost seemed as if the milder weather was returning again; and the Queen looked brighter; but it was not so with the Princess, who was silent and almost sad. And so things continued for some days.
At last the Prince could bear it no longer. One afternoon when he found himself alone with the Princess, he turned to her suddenly.
“Princess,” he said, “can you not give me another answer? You must know that I would fain promise anything you wish; but I dare not bind myself to what might perhaps do you some injury.”
Rose turned towards him impatiently.