“I have wandered far over the face of the earth,” he said, “and never have I seen so beautiful a maiden as Ilona.”
“What does she look like?” the King’s Son asked.
Osmo drew a picture of her and she seemed to the King’s Son so beautiful that at once he fell in love with her.
“Osmo,” he said, “if you will go home and get your sister, I will marry her.”
So Osmo hurried home not by the long land route by which he had come but straight over the water in a boat.
“Sister,” he cried, as soon as he saw Ilona, “you must come with me at once for the King’s Son wishes to marry you!”
He thought Ilona would be overjoyed, but she sighed and shook her head.
“What is it, sister? Why do you sigh?”
“Because it grieves me to leave this old house where our fathers have lived for so many generations.”
“Nonsense, Ilona! What is this little old house compared to the King’s castle where you will live once you marry the King’s Son!”