The king told her of the tables he turned over when he saw her selling her heart to a man. The man charmed her. His power surrounded her. The king saw their intentions. He fought for her. His heart thirsted for her, but he would let her love him freely. He allowed her to walk away him and seek this other heart. His Mother, that dear, Queen Mother, persisted. The Queen Mother and sent the men and women of the court after the girl to bring intercede and bring her back to her senses. The king waited Not waiting idly, he used his power to influence her situation. The girl was blind, but still agonized because she missed the unity she had once experienced with the king. In time the peace in her heart unraveled. She could see the magnitude of his love and the gravity of her not choosing it.

It was not wrong for the king to test her and demand her love. He must be honored as king, obeyed as king, and loved freely by those who love him. If she chose another king to be hers who was not really a king, it would only lead to brokenness. When she sat with that man, she remembered how the king longed for her to choose him. She made excuses to put him off. The girl tried to have two kings.

When he found her broken and in pain, he loved her; he waited and he sang to her. In time, the king built her up her strength, forced a distance between her and that man until she had no where else o turn. When her sight recovered and she loved he king again, he waited longer, longer and longer. It took until the girl’s love for the king outweighed her love for that man. And when the time was right, the king brought her together with him, and she chose him above all else. Love must be tested in order for it to be strong. All the passions can end. Love must be tried in fire.

In those days, what a refuge her Queen Mother became. There were so many moments when she felt like a failure, unworthy of a King’s love, undeserving. The girl believed she should leave, perhaps, and give up the battle. In those dark moments, she wept on her pillow, on her queen’s lap. The queen stroked her hair. She looked up and saw the Queen Mother’s face, her eyes sparkling and smiling and the girl found peace enough to rest. She cried, quietly, but but she rested in her great comfort of her queen. “All will be well,” the Queen promised, “all in time, daughter. You will be his. He is already yours.”

There was a time when the girl agonized over her lack of progress. With tears, she looked to the foot of her bed. There was her closest friend from the court, only nine years old standing by her. The friend was there to comfort the girl, reassure and teach her what she knew in her nine-year old wisdom.

She had all the strength. She possessed everything. She had the spirit of the king inside of her. His family took her into their hearts. What moments they had together! How she was loved and welcomed! And yet, what distractions would take place! What long days of forgetting him and still he loved her. He would never settle. She was so young, so immature, and so unaware of the faithfulness of a mature love.

The girl was thrilled to see the places the king took her, the people she met, the things she saw. Each thing was like a present to be unwrapped, opened and enjoyed. She deserved nothing. The girl’s heart felt like it was on fire to be so loved. It was easy to forget he was the king and she was the servant. The king’s love made her worthy. She was his daughter, his sister, his bride. The girl’s love for him filled her heart and yet she was imperfect, so imperfect, so imperfect that she fell, she looked away to other lights, so imperfect that she fell again. He would not allow her to despair. The king’s love lifted her up. He raised her, honored her, dressed her in his finest graces and with his darling Mother Queen. The king presented her to all of the court and in her weakness and littleness and imperfections they cheered, not because of anything in her save his immense love. They cheered and dedicated themselves to her service, should she ever need them. She would have them all at her side.


  1. Erin says:

    I didn’t realize you were dabbling in fiction writing! beautiful!

    1. Thank you! I started writing when I was quite young. This was the last real piece I’ve written and I completed it about six years ago.

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