The Prince Of Curses h.s.

One

Our kingdom is ruled by a selfish immortal prince.

The prince is said to be cruel and unrelentingly heartless. He rarely leaves his castle and gives little attention to his people. As most people say, he was cursed many centuries ago by the last living witch. A blight to the kingdom that use to thrive in solemn peace.

My sister and I sat on the hillside, looking down at the out edge of the kingdom. My dress laid lightly over my outstretched legs and blades of grass peaked from the ground and softly brushed against my body.

"What do you think is out there?" My sister, Ayla asked beside me.

I looked with her, my eyes narrowed as I looked beyond the horizon. The horizon expanded through heavy amounts of trees and stopped at distant mountains, the sun slowly falling behind them.

I shrugged, my fingers lacing between a piece of grass as I plucked it from the earth. "I don't know. I don't know anyone who does."

Our kingdom was big, but it stopped along the lines of the forest. There were many myths and tall tales about going into the woods at night. Even the hunters and scavengers only went out during daylight. The forest was said to be endless, trapping any soul in who dared to pass through it.

I turned my gaze away, looking at the castle that sat broadly on a distant hill. It was tall and intimidating, the outside was a dark grey color with darkened rooftops. The perimeter of the castle was surrounded by a stone wall and aligned with guards that looked like small silver specs from this distance. The only way to get to the castle was through the front gate.

"Cmon, we can't stay out too late or mother will worry," Ayla said from beside me.

I agreed, pushing up from the grass and coming up to my feet. My hands reached down, dusting off my long thin dress as Ayla did the same.

Our mother sewed all of our clothes for us since we were little. Our family couldn't afford to buy new ones from common town shops. Most of the time she would keep the bodice of an old dress and stitch a different skirt to it.

I grabbed my sister's hand as we ran down the side of the hill, both giggling to each other as we went fast, nearly tripping over our own feet. Ayla's long wispy hair flailed along her back as we walked in step back to our family's bakery. It was located in a small street near other shops. The buildings were built so close to each other that most of them touched, making it nearly impossible to tell where they ended or began.

The bakery was constructed from brown bricks, the bottom of the shop had large glass windows, two outside seating tables, and a sign that said fresh pastries. My family has owned the bakery for a few decades, it was originally established by my grandmother who passed it down to my father, and will eventually be passed down to my sister and me.

I pushed on the door, making a small chime ring throughout the empty shop. Business has been slow lately with the prince constantly raising taxes on common goods. It was becoming harder to find bulk products needed for the shop. The price of farm foods had tripled in the last few years, which threatened business for most shops in this area.

My father stood at the counter, wiping the wood with a wet rag. "My girls!" He said lightly, dropping the cloth on the counter and walking towards us with open arms. He engulfed us both in a hug, his dirty apron brushed against my cheek. He smelled like flour and sugar, my favorite combination of scents.

"How was your walk?" My father asked. We filled him in on small details, telling him about our time out.

We helped with the bakery, it was mainly our life, but our father encouraged us to 'do things our age' from time to time. He knew what it was like to be tied to the family bakery at a young age, and he only wanted us to have normal childhoods without worrying about business.