The Scepter

The scepter was within the hands of the fair maiden. She admired its beauty and adornment. Nothing more precious did she carry in all her possessions. She knew its value. It had been given to her by the King of princes. The King had instructed her to carry her scepter wherever she went and not to put it down. In the night she was to keep it beneath the pillow where her head lay.

One night the fair maiden began to dream. A court jester was dancing before her eyes. His costume was made of the finest linens. He was talented and graceful in his dance. With each circle of movement the jester drew closer to the maiden. His smile was inviting and friendly. He soon began to invite the fair maiden to dance with him. At first she resisted his invitation, but he was relentless for her to come out upon the floor with him. Reaching to her with both hands the fair maiden could feel the attraction to want to join in the dance.

She started to lay down her scepter that her hands would be free to twirl with the jester, but an ache arose deep in her chest. She took her eyes from the dancing fool before her and looked carefully at her precious gift. Remembering the King’s instructions she wrapped her arms tightly about the scepter. Her aching chest filled with contentment once more.

Lifting her eyes she saw the jester anew. He was filled with anger at her refusal to dance. His appearance changed from beauty into darkness. His smile turned into a leer and his graceful dance became a taunting insult. Closing her eyes the fair maiden awoke from the dream. Her King touched her cheek and again handed her the scepter.

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