Married to the vegetative prince

Jane felt her breath catch as she stepped down from the carriage, her well-worn leather boots making a soft thud against the smooth cobblestones. Her heart raced, every beat echoing the significance of the moment. Before her stood the palace, an awe-inspiring structure with soaring spires and intricate stonework that seemed to touch the sky.

"Oh my," she whispered, wide-eyed as she took it all in. The farm girl within her couldn't help but marvel at the sheer opulence surrounding her, even as a knot of anxiety twisted in her stomach. "This is... beyond anything I ever imagined."

As she approached the grand entrance, she spotted two guards, standing watch with an air of alertness. Their polished armor shimmered in the sunlight, casting dazzling reflections, yet their faces were unreadable, their eyes keenly observing her every move.

Feeling a wave of nerves, Jane fiddled with the simple fabric of her dress. "Excuse me," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm... I'm expected."

One of the guards nodded curtly and gestured toward the massive doors. "This way, miss."

With a slow creak, the doors opened, revealing a vast foyer with marble floors that seemed to stretch endlessly. Jane's footsteps echoed in the expansive space, each click of her heels against the polished stone stirring a mix of excitement and apprehension within her.

'What am I doing here?' she thought, panicking a little. 'A farm girl in a palace? This can't be happening.' And yet, the cool marble beneath her feet and the breathtaking grandeur enveloping her felt achingly real.

As she ventured further into the foyer, Jane's eyes darted from one ornate detail to the next, taking in the richness of this world so far removed from her own. Golden chandeliers dangled from the high ceilings, their crystals tinkling softly in the gentle breeze, while vividly colored tapestries adorned the walls, narrating tales of heroic deeds and mythical beings.

"It's beautiful," Jane breathed in awe, "but so... intimidating."

A kind servant approached her, offering a respectful bow. "Welcome, Miss Woods. If you'll follow me, please."

Jane nodded, bracing herself. As she trailed behind the servant deeper into the palace, she couldn't shake the feeling of being a small stone swept up in a grand river, tossed by forces beyond her control. Yet amid her anxiety, a flicker of determination ignited within her. Whatever awaited her, she would face it with the quiet strength that had seen her through tough times.

"I'm ready," she whispered to herself, squaring her shoulders. "Whatever comes my way, I'm ready."

As Jane followed the servant through the opulent corridors, a distinguished figure came into view, emerging from a side hallway. He carried himself with a regal presence, but the warmth in his eyes immediately put her at ease.

"Miss Woods," he said, bowing formally before offering a welcoming smile. "I am Lord Edmund. Welcome to the palace."

Jane curtsied gracefully, her humble beginnings evident but not overshadowing her poise. "Thank you, my lord," she replied, her voice soft yet steady.

"Please, let me show you around," Lord Edmund suggested, signaling for her to walk alongside him. "I imagine it's a bit overwhelming for you."

As they wandered through the palace, he pointed out various features. "These tapestries," he gestured to an elaborate piece, "were crafted by the kingdom's finest artisans. Each one tells a chapter of our history."

Jane's eyes widened with wonder as she absorbed the vivid narratives. "They're stunning," she marveled, glancing up at Lord Edmund. "How long have they been here?"

"Some for centuries," he replied thoughtfully, "much like the very foundations of our kingdom."

As they continued, Jane caught Lord Edmund stealing glances at her, gauging her reactions. She straightened, determined to hide her nerves.

"And here," he said, leading her to an ornate door, "is the throne room. The King awaits you inside."

Her heart began to race at the mention of the King. "The King?" she echoed, her earlier composure wavering. "I... I'm not sure I'm ready for this."

Lord Edmund offered an encouraging smile. "Take a deep breath, Miss Woods. You've shown remarkable bravery already. The King is eager to meet you."

With a gentle nod, he opened the doors. As they stepped inside, Jane's eyes were immediately drawn to the imposing figure of the King on the throne. His presence filled the room, his gaze both commanding and probing as it fixated on her.

As Jane approached, the King rose, every movement intentional and regal. She caught a glimpse of something flickering in his eyes—perhaps desperation?—that quickly vanished behind his authoritative exterior.

"Your Majesty," Jane said, sinking into a deep curtsy, her voice barely audible.

"Rise, Jane Woods. We have much to discuss," the King replied, his tone rich and resonant.

His gaze softened as he beckoned her closer. "My dear, I regret having to burden you, but I must tell you a tale of great sorrow—and even greater hope." Beneath his strong voice, there was a thread of pain that tugged at Jane's heart.

"What is it, Your Majesty?" she asked, her curiosity overtaking her nerves.

The King's gaze drifted to a large portrait of a handsome young man, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "My son, Prince Dubois," he said, his voice heavy with emotion. "Three moons ago, he suffered a terrible accident while riding in the Whispering Woods. Since then, he's been in a deep slumber, unresponsive to any attempts to awaken him."

Jane's heart ached for him. "That's dreadful, Your Majesty. But surely your royal physicians—"

"Have exhausted all possibilities," the King interrupted, frustration creeping into his voice. "In desperation, we turned to ancient prophecies for guidance." He paused, locking eyes with Jane. "And we found one—a prophecy that speaks of a love so pure, it can break the curse of eternal sleep."

Jane's mind raced, processing his words. "And you think... I am this true love?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

The King nodded solemnly. "The signs point to you, Jane Woods. A commoner with a heart of gold, destined to save our prince and our kingdom."

As the King detailed the prophecy, Jane felt a deep empathy for him, his paternal love woven into every word. But apprehension bubbled within her at the enormity of what was being asked.

"Your Majesty," she said hesitantly, "it's an honor that you believe I could help, but…I've never met Prince Dubois. How can I possibly be his true love?"

The King's expression softened even more. "Love, my dear, is unpredictable. Sometimes it grows gradually, nurtured through time and shared moments. Other times, it hits like lightning, connecting two souls meant for each other."

Jane glanced down at her trembling hands. "But what if I'm not the one? What if I can't wake him?" The hopes of an entire kingdom seemed to weigh heavily on her, threatening to crush her spirit.

"All I ask," the King said gently, "is that you consider it. For my son, and for the future of our kingdom... will you at least think it over?"

Jane looked up, meeting the King's imploring gaze. Her heart ached with compassion, even as self-doubt gnawed at her. Could she truly be the answer to their prayers, or was she simply setting herself up for failure?