Ban-Shoan

                                       Ban-Shoan                    
         There once was a queen so pure and virtuous that her subjects sang her praise across the small kingdom. She was as beautiful as her name, which was Sienna-Rose. She had sapphire eyes and long, dark hair that tumbled down her back. Her skin was as soft as petals, and her teeth as white as pearls. Sienna-Rose ruled her kingdom alone because her king had died four years earlier at sea. She had watched his ship sail off across the waters, and whispered a prayer for his safe keeping. Although the journey had ended in tragedy, Sienna-Rose knew there had been a purpose for it; she just had to be patient to see what it was.
         Every day Sienna-Rose would rise with the sun and walk through the forest. At the end of the forest was a clearing, and at the end of that clearing was a cliff that looked over the ocean. She would stand on the bluff and watch the waves rise and crash into the rocks below her. Sometimes the wind would blow the spray from the whitecaps up into her face, and she would close her eyes and breathe in the salty mist. She would then slowly walk back, silently mourning the fact that she did not even have a child to keep her company. Although she was very kind and giving, and her subjects loved her fiercely, Sienna-Rose always felt alone.
         One cold morning the queen rose with the sun, as usual. She put on her clothes and walked through her usual path in the forest. This day was particularly windy, and there was a strange scent lingering in the air that she could almost recognize, but not quite. It smelled almost like algae on rose petals, a sweet, wet decay that was not yet unbearable. The tree branches whipped around, spitting leaves to tangle in her hair. When she came to the bluff, Sienna-Rose gasped at the intensity of the waters. The waves had angry white heads, frothing and foaming as if the creatures of the ocean were gnashing their teeth. She watched the horizon and prayed silently before turning around to begin her walk home.
         Six nights after the storm, three men on horseback arrived. While it was not unusual for her kingdom to receive visitors, Sienna-Rose had not been expecting anyone. As she waited in her front gardens, she noticed the strange smell had come back. It was pungent, musky… almost a damp smell that made her feel slightly uneasy, although she was not sure why.
         The three strange men came walking up the path, followed by a small group of the local children. It was the man in the middle who caught her eye. He was obviously a king, and so different from hers! This young man had hair that licked around his face like fire in the wind. His eyes were wide, dark, darting from one end of the garden to the other. Sienna-Rose’s heart fluttered slightly as she noticed the royal blue blazer hanging from his broad shoulders, clinging to his chest and tapering to his waist. She blushed and looked away.  The head cook’s son ran up to her and thrust a fistful of bright baubles at her.
         “Your majesty, look what the strangers gave to us!”
         The queen smiled, and then stood to face the men.
         “We welcome strangers, but prefer friends. My name is Sienna-Rose, and I rule over this small kingdom,” she said.
         The man in the middle stepped forward and bowed slightly.
         “Your highness, it is an honour to be in the company of one so lovely. I am King Eric, ruler of the Kingdom of Noris,” he said. “I am travelling across the land and would like permission to stop on your property and walk through those beautiful woods.”
         “You are welcome to. In fact, I insist you and your men stay as our guests for a few nights,” Sienna-Rose said. She turned to the cook’s son. “Please go and tell your mother that we have company, and she will need to prepare more food for dinner tonight.”
         The little boy took off, running towards the castle, holding his treasure tight against his chest.
         That night over dinner Sienna-Rose told King Eric the story of her husband’s tragic death. After her king had died, many of their subjects had left the kingdom. They had loved their king so strongly that to stay behind caused them too much pain. A few had stayed behind to serve the queen, and it had become more of a village than a kingdom. Eric nodded in understanding, slowly sipping cup after cup of sweet mead. After she had finished he began telling her of his travels, of the incredible places he had seen and fantastic creatures he had battled. The night grew dark enough for the moon to peer out, and Sienna-Rose found herself wishing time would slow. The table had been long cleared, and all of her subjects had left. Eric’s two men had drank too much of the honey wine and both sat in their seats, heads back, gently snoring.
         The king reached forward and took Sienna-Rose’s hand. He slowly lifted it to his mouth, kissed it softly, and laid it back onto the table.
         “My lady, the beauty of this land pales in comparison to that of your sweet face. I am honoured that you have allowed me to spend the night in such radiance,” he said. “I will now retire to my chambers, and shall bid you a good night filled with pleasant dreams.” He stood and left, and that night Sienna-Rose tossed restlessly in her bed, trying to think of her king but only able to remember that soft kiss.
         The next morning the queen rose with the sun, weary from a night of poor sleep. She walked past the stables on her way to the forest, and was disappointed to see the horses of the strangers were gone. She walked through the woods, wondering if King Eric had found it as lovely as she always did. At the bluff she stood, looking out over the ocean, breathing deeply. Forgive me, my king, I still mourn for you. She turned, determined to put the tall, red haired, dark eyed man out of her mind.
         Months passed since the strangers had arrived. The children still carried around their treasure, laughing as they created elaborate stories of the lands the treasures had come from. Sienna-Rose sat in the gardens listening to the stable boy’s tale when she noticed someone walking quickly up the path. A young man dressed in blue, a familiar royal blue. He stopped in front of the queen, knelt to the ground and bowed his head.
         “Your highness, I bring you a message from King Eric of Noris,” he said. He then laid down a small bundle and an envelope.
         “I thank you for this delivery. Have you travelled far?”
         The messenger stood and brushed grass from his knees.
         “It is not a far journey, straight across the fields to the west. It is only one day and one night. And one morning as well, I suppose,” he said.
         “Well please, I insist you stop at the kitchen and ask my cook to prepare you a lunch for your travels back. You will find it down the hill, to your right. I’m sure you can follow the scent, Miranda is baking bread today.” Sienna-Rose smiled as the young man bowed again, turned, and jogged lightly towards the castle kitchen. She picked up the bundle and envelope, and sat again on the soft grass. She gently stroked the fabric that wrapped the package, amazed at the colour. The queen had never seen silk of this quality, a rich emerald green that shone with gold flecks in the sun. She carefully opened it to reveal a small bird carved out of sapphire. She slowly re-wrapped the silk around the stone and opened the envelope.
         The bird is from a land far across the oceans, a wonderful land where the animals mingle peacefully and the people spend the days listening to bird songs. I have heard the song of this bird, and its beauty is comparable only to that of the sapphire of which it is carved. And the beauty of that gem is comparable only to you. I thank you once more for your hospitability. Your face is often in my thoughts. I think of you constantly.
         Sienna-Rose held the letter to her face and breathed in, hoping that the paper had perhaps captured some of the writer’s scent.
          For two years after that, the young messenger arrived at Sienna-Rose’s castle every month with a new treasure. One month the king had sent her a jar of stigmas picked from rare crocuses. They stained her fingers gold, and smelt of metal and honey. Another month he sent her delicate bangles woven from the silken strands of giant silk-worms. The letters were always the same. He would tell her where the new find had come from, and what it meant. He would tell her of any adventures, stories of strange customs of the new people he had met. And they always ended the same.
              I think of you constantly
              And then one month passed, and then two, and the young messenger had not come. The queen had fallen in love with the king, and feared that perhaps his last adventure had not ended well. A third month passed and she began to grow ill from her concern. She spent most of her days in her room, looking at her trinkets and re-reading her letters. And then one night, as she lay in bed softly crying, that same smell from so long ago drifted in through the window, and she knew she had to make a journey.
            Sienna-Rose packed a small case of her clothes. She wrapped up a few of the gifts King Eric had sent her- the beautiful gem bird, a small glass jar of diamond dust as fine as white beach sand, a perfumed oil that smelled of lilies in a rainstorm- and gave the rest to her chambermaids and cooks. After bidding teary farewells to all of her subjects, Sierra-Rose loaded her horse and rode away from the small kingdom forever.
            The journey was indeed as simple as Eric’s messenger had claimed, and the day passed quickly as the queen rode through the fields and forests that lay beyond her land. As the sun began to fade, Sierra-Rose came across a wide river. The water was so clear that she could see the tiny fish near the bottom of the bed, rainbow prisms darting through the currents. She decided to follow the river, charmed by the delicate wildflowers that coloured the grass beside the water. After another hour of riding through the woods, Sienna-Rose looked up. The sun and the moon were both out, a mismatched set of pearl earrings laid out on a sheet of clouds. She looked down at the river and noticed that the water looked different. It looked green and moved slowly, mumbling quietly to itself. The flowers had tucked themselves into the grass, hiding in the dusk. The queen’s eyes were growing heavy, and she decided to lie down beneath a heavy oak tree. The night was warm, and she needed at least a few hours of rest. She sat down and pulled out a small sack of food. She slowly chewed on a small piece of bread. What will he think when he sees me? Is he even still there? The night birds began to sing with the crickets, and the queen lay down and closed her eyes, listening carefully.
            That night Sienna-Rose dreamed of her dead husband. He came to her in the forest and stood before her. There was a large lily in his hand, the colour of a fire-roasted pumpkin. The king handed it to her and then walked away. She brought the flower to her nose and inhaled deeply, but there was no scent. She looked at her hand and noticed a small stream of blood trickling down her wrist. The lily’s stem had grown thorny and pricked her. She dropped the flower in surprise. Its petals began to curl and a stench wafted up from it, that same sweet decay she had smelled at the cliff. Voices whispered behind her, a chorus of words too quiet to make out. And then, darkness.
            The next morning the queen awoke to warm sunshine kissing her cheek. The dream had faded, but the smell lingered in the air. She packed up her horse and rode on, eager to see the kingdom Eric had spoken of the night they had met. She could remember his vivid descriptions of the rows of rose bushes covered in blossoms the colours of a rainbow, and of the rushing creek that ran through the woods behind his castle. I am sure if I keep following this same river, I will get to the kingdom. And so she did.
          The sun was high in the afternoon sky when Sierra-Rose had reached the edges of Eric’s kingdom. She got off her horse and stood by the river, looking at the enormous castle. It was like a giant child’s toy, solid and magnificent, stained windows and rock walls. Her breath was quick, her heart fluttering madly. She sat down next to the water, leaning over to check her reflection. The water was not as clear here as when she had first encountered it, although not as stagnant as her sleeping spot. Her blue eyes peered out from the murky water, framed by slightly frizzled dark hair. She moved closer, sure that she could see something lying beneath the reflected surface of her face. The smell from her dream invaded her nostrils and she recoiled quickly, rising and grabbing her horse’s reins and leading him toward the castle.
          The first thing Sierra-Rose noticed was the rose garden. It looked as if it had been untended for years, sprawled wildly across at least an acre of land. She walked through it, stopping to smell a rose that looked like a shimmering moonstone. Sierra-Rose had never seen a flower of that colour. She stood, lost in the petals until the sound of someone behind her broke the spell. A young boy came running up to her.
          “Oi! Oi, miss! What do you want?”
          “Hallo, my name is Sienna-Rose. Please, is this the kingdom of King Eric?” she asked.
          “Hallo miss, my name is Cam and yes, our king is King Eric.” 
          “Well, Cam, would you be kind enough to take me to him?” Sierra-Rose put her hand out, and Cam grabbed it eagerly.
          “My pleasure,” he said. “If you would like to leave your horse here, I will ask a stable boy to retrieve him. If you would like to, that is.”
          Sienna-Rose nodded, leaving the horse to graze on fallen rose petals and soft grass. The two walked through the gardens, up a winding path and into a clearing. The field was dotted with cozy looking cottages, and a small clump of children gathered around a man sitting on a large stump. The man looked up and the sun hit his hair, flashing it a shade of ginger that took the queen’s breath away. Eric rose and walked toward her. Cam let go of Sienna-Rose’s hand. “I will go tell the stable boy about your horse, miss.” She nodded, never taking her eyes off of the king. 
          “What are you doing here?” The king glanced around the field, his mouth pulled tight.
          “I had not heard from you, and was worried. Are you not happy to see me? I thought you would be.”
          Eric sighed. “These have been difficult times. My daughters have been taken from us, and my queen’s heart is broken.”
          Sienna-Rose felt her stomach drop. “Daughters? Queen?”
          “Forgive me. I should have told you.” He took her hand. “But I had fallen in love with you, and could not bear to hurt you.” He quickly dropped her hand, smiling at someone behind her. Sierra-Rose turned and saw a woman walking toward them. She had curls the colour of burnt caramel dripping down her back. She looked as if once she had possessed great beauty, but had been drained of it by time.
          “Eric. Who is this?”
          Eric stepped beside the woman. “This is Sienna-Rose. She was kind enough to give us food and a room to sleep in on one of my travels years ago.”
          The woman scowled at the king, and then turned and smiled. “Hello. I am Lily. Eric’s queen. What is it that brings you to our kingdom?”
          Sienna-Rose dropped her eyes, her cheeks burning. “I… I was travelling, and came across the river, and followed it and it brought me here.” She looked up at the queen, who was scowling again. “And then I saw the rose gardens… your rose gardens, my Lady, and… it was completely by chance that I recognized the…”
        “What a charming story. Well, Sienna-Rose, our cook can use another assistant. You can sleep in the empty quarters beside the stables.” Lily turned and walked away.
        Eric waited until his queen was out of sight, and then grabbed Sienna-Rose’s hand again. “Please, forgive her curtness. She has been through great grief recently. Please, you have to stay. I will make sure that you have all the comforts you desire. I have to have you near me. Please, stay.”
          Sierra-Rose looked at the king, her blue eyes crystals from tears. “Yes, my love. I will stay.”
          The months that passed were difficult. Queen Lily was a demanding mistress, and Sierra-Rose had to work hard to earn her stay. The other cooks were very kind, and took to her right away. They taught her to chop and boil, and spent the sunny afternoons outside, peeling carrots and potatoes. The king kept his word, and made sure that Sierra-Rose slept on feather pillows with silk blankets. She kept her room closed so that no one could see these luxuries. Still, her contact with Eric was so fleeting that sometimes she wondered if it was all worth it. Sometimes he would come into the kitchen, teasing the women about roasting pigeons instead of chickens. The cooks would giggle as they scurried across the floor, preparing onions and peeling garlic. When all eyes were occupied, Eric would slide over to Sierra-Rose and run a finger down her arm, or a hand across her back, a gentle gesture that would set her heart pounding. But never anything more.
          The king came to Sierra-Rose six months after she had arrived. The night was cold and clear, and she sat on her bed, wrapped in blankets. There was a quick knock on the door before it was opened. Eric stepped in, duvets in his arms.
        “The weather is turning, and the nights are cool. I have brought you more blankets.”
          Sierra-Rose stood and took the blankets from him. “Thank-you, my Lord. These will surely help.” She turned to the small window in her room, looking to the moon. “The coldest nights are often the most beautiful, don’t you find?”
          Eric stepped beside her and tugged gently at the bottoms of her hair. “The night is not as beautiful as this hair, nor is it as dark.” His hand moved up to cup her cheek. “You grow lovelier as the days pass. Do you know how difficult it is for me not to touch you like this all of the time?”
          Sierra-Rose sighed and brought her hand over his. “What of your queen?”
          “She sleeps.” Eric slid his hand out of hers, down her neck. He ran his fingers slowly over her collarbone. “She sleeps, and I am here with you, my love, and we are as it should be.”
          Eric pulled her down to the bed, wrapped in his arms and the goose feather duvets he had brought with. The moon peered in through the window, watching a tangle of legs and blankets. Night insects sang in harmony with soft cries and heavy breaths, and after, everybody slept and the kingdom was quiet.
          Sienna-Rose did not see the king for three days after he had come to her. She was walking through the gardens and she came across him. It was hard to miss the red hair gleaming in the sunshine.
        “My love, is everything all right?” She took his hand, shy, and ran her fingers over his. He pulled it away quickly, looking past her.
        “Everything is fine, my Lady. But we cannot meet again as we did. Lily is suspect, and I do not want to further upset her. It is not meant to be.” Eric walked away, leaving Sienna-Rose shivering in the cold air. She stood for a moment, and then turned toward the river. She walked, deep in thought.
        It is not meant to be. Have I really wasted my time? Is this man not the man I thought? That cannot be. He cannot have meant it. I do not believe it. She walked past the rose garden and into the woods behind the kingdom. She stopped at the river and dropped to her knees, dipping her hand into the icy water.
        The man is a fool who does not know what he wants. It is meant to be.
          Sienna-Rose looked around for the owner of the soft voice she had just heard, but she was alone.
          The queen is overbearing, but consumed by her own grief. She will not know.
            It seemed that the whispering was coming from the water. Sienna-Rose leaned forward, tips of her hair dangling into the creek.
            You are the one for him. You deserve him, and he you.
            “But how do I show him? He does not believe it.”
          Wait.
            The queen waited, and after a moment realized that the conversation was over.