There is a small hill in the meadows of Delah, which overlooks the still lake water to the east. The citizens of Delah prepared the celebration of the summer equinox, which gathered the entire village in preparation, except for two. On that small hill laid a beautiful young girl and a scruffy looking boy side-by-side. They looked up at the blue sky as clouds floated slowly by, listening to the ruffling of the branches in the wind. She began to softly hum a soft tune and the boy sat up, closing his eyes to listen to her.

         “You sing so sweetly, Evangeline.” He told her. “If I did not see you with my own eyes, I should say it was the voice of an angel.”

She blushed and smiled at him with a love in her eyes that made his heart leap. “You should not tell such falsehoods.” The lovely girl warns him.

“I think you are very cruel to have entranced me such. You have such a great hold over me, I can scarcely think of nothing but you. I have relinquished my freedom, it seems. So tell me now how my thinking you are more than human is a falsehood. I do not believe it to be so- therefore it is not.” He asserts. Beside him on the grass sits a woven garland of flowers. He takes it in his hands, and offers it to Evangeline. “I made this to grace your head. Bracelets too. These wildflowers are nothing to compare to your wild eyes, your shining beauty.”

He softly places it on her head and she gently kisses his cheek, softly. Although it is quick he closes his eyes and can still feel the burning heat of where her sweet lips touched. She fixed her raven hair, so dark against her ivory skin. Her blue eyes sparkled brilliantly. “Ramby, tell me, how do I look?” She asks him.

Ramby smiles warmly at her and replies, “Even the lovely fairies turn green with envy when they look upon your beauty.”

“You always say the sweetest things- that’s why I love you so.” She tells him. The pair ran down the hill to join the festivities. A choir sang as musicians played joyous tunes for the town to dance to. The women of each household brought out dishes of food to share with the town. At the center stood a colorful pole with ribbons hanging down, which the children dance around. The men gambled for candied sweets at tables.

         At last, night rolls around, covering the sky with streaks of orange and dark hues of blue. They begin to put up golden lanterns about the field and to the side, a giant bonfire roars. Out in the brush, where trees stood tall, a pitch-black expanse into the woods, cried a horse. A group of men on horses suddenly charge out into the open field, circling around the tents, enclosing the party in.

         An older gentleman amongst the citizens steps forward, clearing his throat. He says to them, “Go and be off! This is a celebration of life! We shall have none of your misdeeds! You have no place here and we want none of your trouble… Leave- you are unwelcome,” he commands.

         A horseman rides up to the elder slowly, and confidently, pulling out his sword and holds its tip below the man’s chin, so that with any sudden movements, the blade might be plunged straight through. With a tilt of his head with an air of superiority, he mocks, “Do you mean to tell me that you are no loyal citizen of the king?”

         The old man, a few beads of sweat slowly dripping down his face, replies shakily, “I am loyal to his majesty. I fought in the Great War for his father and my brothers served his father before him. I am as loyal as any man to him. For this, I cannot allow you bandits to snatch away what is property to the king.” He closes his eyes and the horseman swiftly brings up his sword, as if to cut of the old man’s head. But, to the surprise of everyone, calmly puts it away in its sheath.
        
The horseman chuckles softly to himself and says, “If you had denied your king, I may have had to use this for your treason.” He reaches into his satchel and pulls out the royal insignia- a golden dragon elaborately embroidered onto deep, red silk. “My name is Sir John Marcus. We are the arriving party for the king himself. After a long journey of riding, we need somewhere to rest. The rest of our riding party shall arrive shortly but I require your town’s cooperation. Do I have your support?” He asks the crowd.
        
There was a quick series of enthusiastic nodding heads. The wives were sent back to their houses to bring more food for the new guests. The men went to the stables and gave the king’s men room for the beasts to rest. The small village half-expected the king to be a glorious knight, young and strong. Word from the capital city said that he was the image of King Arthur reincarnated. Of course, the man of flesh was less impressive than the glorified ruler of old.

He was about 35 years of age with the dark beginnings of a beard around his face. He wore no golden crown and his silver chain mail was crusted with dirt from his ride. Under his armor he wore a green tunic. His brown, leather riding boots covered the ends of his trousers. He descended his horse gracefully with one sweeping movement. A young boy ran to up to the king’s horse and took the reins from him, leading it to the best stable. King William was a strong gentleman of good height and build. He looked like more of a great general, well trained in the art of battle, but he lacked a regal appearance.

The king made sifted his way through the milling crowd of curious citizens- honored by their important guest’s arrival. Evangeline and Ramby ran to join the crowd- both hoping to catch a glimpse of their king. “Oh I can’t see him! Ramby can you? What does he look like?” Evangeline whined.

“I can’t see anything either.” Ramby tells her. “Too many people’s heads are in my way. I could lift you up on my shoulders so you could get a better look?” He suggests.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she climbs up onto his shoulders and throws her dress between her legs so her white pantaloons hang down over Ramby’s chest.  All he can hear is the crowd cheering in wild celebration as Evangeline excitedly squeals, “I SEE HIM! I SEE THE KING! Oh, he’s going into the tent now. Ugh, he’s gone now.” And she climbs down him awkwardly.

“So what did he look like?” asks Ramby as Evangeline begins to walk away, disinterested.

“He was different than I had imagined. I had heard he is like the great king of old, but he looks like a gladiator in physique. He lacks the appearance of royal breeding. Still, he is handsome in some respects… Imagine being his queen. I cannot even fathom the idea of it!”

Ramby chuckles to himself, softly. “Good! I should hate to lose you!” He calls out to her.

She playfully takes a step towards Ramby. “And I should hope you’ll never leave me either. We are two souls entwined. If one was to pull away with great enough force, I’m sure the other would snap and disappear into nothingness!”

Ramby clasps his hands together and brings them to his lips as he stares lovingly at Evangeline. “Please, I beg of you not to tease me. It is beyond a miracle that I could have you for myself. Come… Let us join the celebration.” Evangeline gallops across the grass into the white tent as Ramby slowly follows.

The king scanned the room when suddenly Evangeline bursts in through the entrance. Out of every lovely girl in the room, he could help but fixate on her. He clears his throat. “Excuse me, gentleman. Your conversation is most compelling, but I…” He smiles looking at Evangeline once more. “I should like to add another to our dining party...” He makes his way slowly across the room, not taking his eyes off her from a moment.

Evangeline saw the king approaching, but did not dare to guess it was because of her. She stepped aside to let him pass, dipping into a low curtsy. “Rise, dear girl.” He says to her.

Her eyes widen with shock. She swallows and then bats her eyes. “Yes, your highness?” She asks meekly. “What may I do for you?” Ramby comes up beside her at last and falls to the ground on his backside when he sees the king. No words came to his mouth, to shocked to say anything.

The king grins widely at her. “Well I should like to know your name.” He inquires.

“Evangeline,” she whispers.

“That is a lovely name- fitting for an even lovelier girl. Would you grace my party with your presence tonight. I should very much like your company.” The king looks deep into her eyes, silently willing her to accept. Evangeline stands there for a moment, dumbfounded at his request. She blinks her eyes repeatedly and shakes her head yes with a giant grin on her face.

The king took her hand in his and led her to the banquet table at the head of the room. He pulled out a chair for her in the center and sat right next to her. Plates of goose, duck, and pig were brought forth- freshly roasted to a golden brown on the spit. As the evening passed, Evangeline grew ever more bold in her flirtations with the king. She softly stroked his hands, staring deep into his dark brown eyes. He leaned over, fondling a few strands of hair between his fingers and whispered how beautiful she was. His hot breath tingled on the nape of her neck and he kissed her hand.

Oh, if she could only see the pain on her friend’s face as he sat through that night watching from afar. What could he do? He was no king, he had no title. In regards to fortune the son of a tanner was a person of no consequence. But Evangeline was everything to him, and she had made him believe she felt the same. What was he to kings and princes?

The banquet went on till twilight, as the band of horsemen began to pack up their gear for a ride back to the palace. Evangeline snuck out with the king through the back of the tent and ran hand in hand with him to the stables. Only a dimly flickering flame was witness. “You told me I was the loveliest creature you had ever beheld. Asked what hope you had to gain my love… I could be yours, forever, if you make me your bride.” She proposed.

The king was slightly taken aback. He chuckled and started to fix on his ornamented saddle to his horse. “Yes, you are lovely, but you are not the only beauty in this world. My father before me was no king- it is a title I have secured through blood. Men have died for this cause.” He looked her dead in the eyes. “Are you some princess who can offer me new resources to secure my rule? No.

“I asked for your love, that much is true- but only to occupy an hour of my time. You expect me to make you queen? It is an honor enough for a lady to be ‘sampled’ by her king- ladies at court plead for your position. But Queen? You offer me no advantage.” He pulled the strap below the horse tight, fastening the buckle and prepared to mount the steed.

In a moment of panic, she blurted, “I can give you gold!” He turned his head in mild interest. “You have very little money left after your war to secure the throne, then winning over the people with distribution of food. ‘Panem et Circenses’, correct?
Stumbling for an explanation to her outburst, Evangeline hastily looked about her and saw the hay surrounding her. An idea, a marvelously dangerous idea popped into her head. “I was given a gift when I was a babe. A gift of magic. I can spin hay into gold- making you the richest man alive. I have kept it to myself because witches are persecuted, but with you, I might be safe. Make me your queen and you shall have gold and beautiful heirs to inherit your throne. What other princess can offer you that?”

It would be impossible to say that the king was not the least bit intrigued. He mounted his horse at last and made her a deal. She was to come to the palace tomorrow at dawn, where her skills would be put to the test. He would make her queen if she could do what she said. If she lied though, a great punishment would await her. Evangeline smiled tightly, but it did not meet her eyes. She agreed and the king rode off with great speed into the forest and she watched him disappear, listening as the sound of hooves vanished.

Evangeline then sought Ramby’s help- as she often did. She found him by the lake, his feet wading in the water and he sat on the bank. “I’m sorry I didn’t spend time with you during the banquet, my dearest friend,” she cooed. “How much I wish it was you, instead of that brutish oaf of a king!”

He grinned at her as if he had never noticed any harm done. “Do not think of it, it is all but forgotten.”

She kisses his blushing cheeks. “Thank you… These next words will be hard enough to say, so please do not interrupt me… The king wants me to do the impossible- spin stacks of hay into gold. I need your help, Ramby.”

He looks out to the lake, dumbfounded. “I don’t know if there is anything to do. What brought this ridiculous request?”

“A drunken stupor I suppose… It is a well-known fact he needs money but I can’t make out the reasoning behind it…” She grew anxious quickly and eager to change the topic, said “but nevermind that! Will you help me? You always help me, and now you are the only one.”

Ramby chuckled nervously, wringing his hands over and over. “I don’t know how you think I could get out of this predicament, Eve. I’m sorry but what can I do?”

“Use your magic.” And there it was, out it the open. Those three words hung heavy before them like a fog and could not be erased. She pointed to a bush of roses which stood alone and out of place by the lake. “When we were young, you made that appear from thin air. I told you I had never seen a rose, but how my mother said they were so very beautiful. See, I remember that day. Your mother pulled you away and I didn’t see you for nearly a month! She said you had a fever and I had to stay far away. You were different after that, more guarded… Help me… please.”
“It is a figment of your imagination- I assure you.” He scoffs. “Me? Do magic? If I could, why have I not made myself rich beyond compare? Why live in this poor farming village? You make yourself believe these stories which you’ve dreamt up. You cannot expect me to uphold them when they are fictitious!” He swung his wet feet out of the water and picked up his leather shoes. Ramby did not even try to put them on, but instead started to walk up the hill barefoot, grass clinging to his soles.

“He’ll have my head!” She shouts in desperation. Tears well up those lovely eyes and her lip gives a slight quiver. Ramby stopped in his tracks, but did not look back behind him. “The king will kill me if I fail. He told me this himself. I’m so scared. I suppose this is our last goodbye, my dearest friend… Before my soul leaves this earthly vessel, I want you to know that you are the only man I could ever truly love.”

Pain and joy struck through his heart at once. Had she said it? Yes. But at such a price. Once again, Ramby would give her everything she asked, just because she smiled. He turned around and sat beside fair Evangeline and hugged her tight. This hug though was not of overwhelming joy from a proclamation of love. It was of silent fear, like how a child embraces their mother during a great storm.