"I cannot believe our King is no more", said Larentia as she bustled around the kitchen energetically like she always did, especially when she was churned or troubled by something.
"They crowned his poor son as soon as...", here she stopped and shivered. "I was about to speak unduly, oh my", she continued and put away the plate she had been wiping for the past 5 minutes.
"Dear nurse...", began the other one in the room, crouching in a corner between the oven and the window, where bright rays of light pierced through the thick foliage clinging to the walls outside. They made her white hair and pale complexion glow in the most lovely light, while her expression was one of worry. Larentia had not quite understood the meaning of this. The girl had returned from one of her solitary walks to the lake as usual, but she had not been quite herself. It felt as though she had left a part of hers by the waterside. She would not speak a word, and so Larentia had not dared touch the matter, whatever it was.
The girl now sighed again. The last drop of colour in her complexion went with the air.

"Larentia?"

"Yes, child." Information. Finally!
"Could you...describe our King to me?"
"You mean Prince Nyx?"
"Yes."
Larentia's small body relaxed a little as she slowly sat down on her knees, in front of the lovely creature she had cared for all their life. She put her tiny paw on the hands of her fosterling and tried to remember the few times she had caught a glimpse of the crown prince.
"Well, as far as I recall... He is tall and his long hair is black as the night itself, shining as if the gods had descended from the heavens and woven stars into them. He is the strongest of all, bis body is muscular and yet his movements are always so swift and elegant! His horns are majestic, black as the finest lacquer with a lustre no artisan could create. And his eyes are burning red and yellow. They say their colour changes with his mood, but I am not sure about that. And his hands are big and...What?" Larentia's spontaneous song of praise was cut off by the smile that had returned to the girl's face.

"You admire him", she said.

"Well... he is our King, and I dare say a most impressive one."

"What does his voice sound like?"

Larentia's hands suddenly twitched.
"I would not know, dear", she muttered. "He never speaks."
"Never? But then, what did I...", whispered the girl more to herself than to her abigail. Was I mistaken after all, she wondered. But these senses of hers had not once failed her in her entire life.

"And is he usually... forgiving?"

"They say he is just, but without mercy towards those that break the law. Why do you ask all of this, Iris, dear?"
"Oh, I....", she suddenly shook her head. "Nevermind, dear nurse. I must have dreamed it."

Both of them fell silent for moment.

"Iris, dear", said the nurse in a tone that announced a change of topic, and rose to her feet again. "Look at you! Your dress is all torn again! You must be more careful when wandering through the woods. What if the thorns tear your skin next time? How will we find a suitor for you when you are in shreds!"
The girl now rose to her feet as well, the scraps and tatters of her once long, black dress whirling around her slender legs. She chuckled. How many times had Larentia cracked this joke already.
"A suitor for a blind, weak girl? In our country where strength is everything? I thought we had agreed that one day we would simply switch roles and live happily ever after."
Larentia laughed heartily.

"Silly girl. Now get those rags off of you and let me try to at least sew me an apron out of them."