Long ago, there was a Princess. Her name was Henrietta. She lived in a castle and ruled side by side with her father and mother, the King and Queen. She spent her days with her lady in waiting, Loriann, tending to her garden, and meeting suitors from kingdoms far and wide. Due to the boredom of royal life, she was assigned a jester since she was a little girl. His name was Lysander. Lysander was once a peasant boy, raised by his mother after his father was taken by the plague. 

He was known in his village as being musical and amusing. He was found performing in his village theatre, a little role as a rapscallion thief, though this caught the attention of the royal court, who sought his talents to be used as a jester for the royal family. He was taken from his village, and his mother was paid a hefty sum for her son’s talents in return. Lysander was brought in and taught the rules of the castle: never enter a room unannounced, never speak out of turn, always entertain, and never leave the castle grounds. 

Lysander quickly settled into the role of a jester, his hat fitted with jingling bells as he pranced and performed acts to please Princess Henrietta. Her warm brown eyes and smile made him proud, and he knew his presence was appreciated, although the King and Queen rarely ever looked his way. However, curiosity got the best of Lysander. He found his way to the castle gardens within the courtyard. Henreitta was resting on a stone bench, clipping the stems off a bouquet of peonies. He felt his chest ache with something he knew people described as longing, but he was but a simple peasant boy, a jester. 

“Jester. You enjoy the garden?” Her voice is melodic, not unlike the birdsong in the spring. Lysander falters. He cannot speak to her, but she calls to him. 

“Yes, Your Highness,” he says. Lysander’s heart beats rapidly. She beckons for him to come closer. He follows obediently. 

“You have a name, Jester?” she asks. Her eyes are questioning, yet gentle. He nods. “Lysander.” 

“Lysander,” she repeats, as though in thought over the matter. 

He would stay longer; however, she is called by Loriann to attend to the seamstress. She curtsies goodbye, and he watches her go. The peonies left behind on the bench. 

The years pass, and Henreitta is arranged to be married to Prince Cassio from a neighboring kingdom. It is a fair marriage; he is of a well-off family, and she will be well taken care of. Yet the news stirs jealousy and hatred in Lysander’s heart. He broods and still does his best to entertain Henrietta, his days full of longing. She grows more beautiful day by day, and it slowly kills him. At night, he writes songs for her, songs of love and fear and possession.

One day, a soothsayer comes to the castle on appointment for the King. She is tasked to predict the future of Henreitta’s marriage and the alignments of the kingdoms. She predicts that Henrietta will bear many heirs, which pleases the King. In the hall, Lysander finds her. Seeing the pain in his heart, the soothsayer pulls him aside. She gives him an offer. Immortality to give him the chance to be with Henrietta, since the penalty for any advances made towards her would lead to certain death. He eagerly accepts, and she grants his wish. 

At the gathering prior to the marriage to Prince Cassio, Henreitta is wearing a red dress, her crown neatly fitted atop her head. Her brown, wavy hair is tucked away into her veil. He thinks she is beautiful. She smiles at him gently, across the hall. A goblet of wine in her hand. He goes to her, his hands trembling. 

“Your Highness–” She stares at him expectantly, rigid. “You look beautiful.” 

She smiles, bashful. 

“Nonsense, Lysander.” 

He stops her. “I have loved you for years, Princess Henreitta. Please, run away with me. Do me the honor of being my wife. I am not rich like Prince Cassio, but we can be together. You may tend to your garden. I will entertain you forever.” He takes her pale, soft hands. She stares, wide-eyed and shocked. 

“Lysander. We cannot. I am engaged to be wed,” she whispers. “You are not royalty.” “That doesn’t matter to me. Refuse your marriage to Prince Cassio.” 

“My family will have me killed, as treason, you for disobeying the rules.” 

“Be with me, Henrietta. Please.” 

Her gaze softens. 

“I shall be with you. You have always made me smile, and your music has always brightened my worst days. We shall run tonight.” 

Arrangements are made, and Lysander meets Henrietta in the dead of night in the courtyard. Their bags are packed, and Loriann helps them sneak out of the castle. They find horses in the stable and ride off into the woods. It seems they have successfully escaped. Until, from out of the darkness, emerge the castle guards, who have tracked their escape. Arrows fly around them as the knights wield their swords. He tries to protect Henrietta, but he has no armor nor weapons. An arrow pierces her chest, blood blooming across her chest as she falls to her knees. The guards haul them away, and Lysander is shackled. The news of the princess’s death shocks the kingdom. The castle is dark, and the King and Queen mourn quietly, ashamed by the actions of their daughter. Relations between the Cassio kingdom falter, and the townspeople gossip and gawk at the tales of the lowly jester and the runaway princess.

Henrietta is buried in the low marshlands beside the church; she is not given a proper burial. Lysander watches from his prison window, awaiting his trial and execution. He curses himself in regret for his foolish impulsivity. He sings himself a tune he wrote for Henrietta: 

Oh, Henrietta. 

My dear blossom. 

Thou bloomt so fair and sweet. 

I wish I had not taken you, so you would have bloomed another day. 

My dear Henrietta. 

The guards take Lysander to the gallows. He survives the hanging. They drown him in the river. He survives the river. They burn him at the stake, but he survives the fire. They are left with beheading, yet his head survives the sword. They throw his head into the marsh, where he sings his tune until he becomes a withered old man, and the village changes and grows into a city. He is buried far beneath the ground. He sings to Henrietta and believes with all his might for eternity that she can hear him sing.