Literature
A Flower for a Fallen Crown
Chapter One: A Ride in the Dark
Prince Anselm jolted upright in bed.
What was that? Someone was knocking… knocking on his door at this of all hours. It must be past midnight, to judge from the dying embers in the hearth at the far end of the bedchamber. He sighed and rubbed his eyes.
Whoever was out there, they sounded frantic.
Anselm thought to reach for the bell to summon his guards, but held back. It might be one of the servants, and he didn’t want them whipped on his account.
“Come in,” he called out, just loud enough to make himself heard. He was only twelve years old, but his voice was higher and clearer than most.
The door swung open without a noise, and from the other side appeared a small, robed figure with a candle glowing in her hand. It was one of the servant-girls, which one he couldn’t tell in this darkness.
“Your highness?” she said, in a whisper.
He leaned toward her, squinting in the candlelight. “What’s the matter? Don’t be afraid
