Once upon a time, in a peaceful and beautiful kingdom, there lived a King and a Queen who loved each other very much. The King was young, kind, and handsome, and the Queen was gentle and good, with a smile that could light up any room. Their people adored them, and their land was filled with happiness and harmony. Yet, there was one thing missing from their lives that made their hearts ache—they had no child to share their love with.
The King and Queen wished for a child more than anything in the world. They hoped and prayed, made wishes on stars, and visited wise people for advice. Still, for a long time, their wish did not come true, and the Queen sometimes felt very sad and lonely.
But one bright morning, everything changed. The Queen gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, and the King and Queen were filled with joy beyond words. The news spread quickly throughout the kingdom. Bells rang joyfully from every tower, flags fluttered in the breeze, and people cheered in the streets. Even strangers hugged each other, laughing and crying, “Our Queen has a daughter! Long live the little Princess!”
The King and Queen wanted the perfect name for their precious daughter. After thinking of many names, they chose to call her Aurora, which means “The Dawn,” because she brought new light and happiness into their lives.
To celebrate Princess Aurora’s arrival, the King and Queen decided to hold a grand christening. They wanted it to be the most wonderful celebration ever, so they invited all the Fairies they could find in the land to be Aurora’s godmothers. In those days, it was a special tradition for Fairies to give magical gifts to royal babies, wishing them happiness, kindness, and all the best things in life. After searching far and wide, they found seven Fairies, which made them very happy, for seven is a lucky number.
The day of the christening was filled with music and laughter. Trumpets played joyful tunes, and the palace was decorated with flowers and ribbons. After the ceremony, everyone returned to the Royal Palace for a splendid feast. Special seats were prepared for the seven Fairy godmothers, and before each one was a golden dish, with a golden spoon, knife, and fork, all sparkling with diamonds and rubies.
Just as everyone was about to sit down and enjoy the feast, the doors of the grand hall slowly opened. In walked a tall, elegant, but rather intimidating Fairy. She had long black hair that shimmered like midnight, violet eyes that sparkled with mystery, and sharp, striking features. She wore a dark green gown trimmed with black lace, and in her hand she carried a silver staff topped with a glowing crystal that seemed to pulse with magical light.
The guests fell silent as she entered, for she was not among the invited Fairies. With a voice that was both beautiful and commanding, she spoke, “I am the Fairy Malvera. Tell me, where are your King’s manners, that I have not been invited to this celebration?”
The King and Queen were startled and a little afraid. They had not meant to forget anyone, but Fairy Malvera lived far away, in a tall, lonely tower deep within the forest. For fifty years, she had not left her tower, and many believed she had vanished or chosen to live in secret. It was not unusual for Fairies to disappear for a long time, sometimes hiding away in towers or ancient trees, and people would wonder if they were enchanted or simply gone.
Now, Fairy Malvera stood before them, her presence filling the room with a strange, powerful energy. The King and Queen did not know what to say, and the guests waited anxiously to see what would happen next.
The King, though Fairy Malvera had spoken sharply to him, was truly the politest and kindest of men. He hurried to apologize for the mistake, bowing low and speaking gently. With a warm smile, he led Fairy Malvera to the table himself and asked the servants to bring her a golden dish, just like the ones for the other Fairies. But, try as he might, there was one thing he could not fix: there were only seven sparkling dish-covers, made especially for the seven invited Fairies. There simply wasn’t an extra one for Malvera.
Fairy Malvera accepted the King’s apology and took her seat, but her violet eyes flashed with disappointment. She sat very still and quiet, but everyone could feel that she was not pleased. One of the younger Fairies, named Hippolyta, noticed Malvera’s frown and heard her whispering to herself, her words sounding like little thunderclouds. Hippolyta grew worried. She knew that sometimes, when Fairies felt left out or hurt, they could make mischief with their magic.
As soon as the feast was over, Fairy Hippolyta quietly slipped away from the table and tiptoed to the cradle where baby Aurora slept. She hid behind the soft, golden tapestry, close enough to watch over the little Princess and ready to help if anything went wrong.
Now it was time for the Fairy godmothers to give their magical gifts to Princess Aurora. One by one, the Fairies stepped forward, their gowns shimmering in the candlelight. The first Fairy smiled and wished that Aurora would grow up to be the most beautiful girl in the world. The next Fairy promised that Aurora would be as clever as an angel. The third Fairy wished her to have grace in everything she did. The fourth Fairy gave her the gift of perfect dancing, so she would move as lightly as a butterfly. The fifth Fairy wished that Aurora would sing as sweetly as a nightingale, and the sixth Fairy promised that she would play every kind of music beautifully.
At last, it was Fairy Malvera’s turn. She rose from her seat, her dark green gown swirling around her, and walked slowly to the cradle. The room grew very quiet. Malvera’s long black hair shimmered, and her violet eyes sparkled with a strange, powerful light. She leaned over the sleeping baby, her sharp features looking even more serious than before, and raised her silver staff, the glowing crystal at its tip pulsing with magic.
“This is my gift to you, Princess Aurora,” Malvera said, her voice as cold and clear as ice. “One day, you shall prick your hand on a spindle, and on that day, you shall fall into a sleep from which you will never wake.”
A gasp swept through the hall. The Queen fainted in the King’s arms, and everyone was filled with fear and sadness. Some of the knights wanted to chase Malvera away, but she only stood tall and proud, her eyes shining with mysterious magic.
Just then, Fairy Hippolyta stepped out from behind the tapestry. She walked bravely to the cradle and spoke in a gentle, comforting voice. “Do not be afraid, dear King and Queen. I cannot undo all of Malvera’s magic, but I can help. Your daughter will indeed prick her hand on a spindle, but she will not sleep forever. Instead, she will fall into a deep, gentle sleep that will last for many, many years. When the time is right, a kind and loving prince will come and wake her with true love’s touch. I promise to watch over her, and when the day comes, I will be there to help.”
The King and Queen felt a little better, though their hearts were still heavy. The guests whispered softly, and the music faded away. Fairy Malvera, her gift given, swept out of the palace, her dark gown trailing behind her like a shadow, and disappeared into the night.
The christening celebration ended quietly, and everyone wished with all their hearts that Princess Aurora would be safe and happy, no matter what magic the future might bring.
Outside the palace, the night sky sparkled with fireworks. All the King’s loyal subjects gathered in the gardens and courtyards, watching as bright rockets soared and burst into showers of color. The biggest firework of all spelled out, in rainbow letters, “Long Life to Princess Aurora!” Everyone cheered and clapped, their hearts full of hope for the little Princess’s future.
But inside the palace, the King’s heart was heavy. He bowed from the balcony, waving to his people, but as soon as the last firework faded, he slipped away with his Chamberlain to a quiet room. There, while the echoes of celebration still filled the air, the King made a difficult decision. He wrote a new law, the very first of his reign, to keep his daughter safe from the fairy Malvera’s spell.
The proclamation was strict: No one in the kingdom was allowed to use a spindle for spinning, or even to keep one in their home. Anyone who broke this rule would be in terrible trouble. The King’s heralds marched through every town and village, reading the law aloud with the sound of trumpets. People listened in surprise and confusion. Spinning was important to them—everyone’s mothers and grandmothers made the finest linen in all the neighboring lands. “How can we spin our beautiful linen without spindles?” they wondered. But they loved their King and wanted to protect Princess Aurora, so they put away their spinning-wheels and spindles, and for many years, the sound of spinning was heard no more.
Time passed, and Princess Aurora grew up in the palace, surrounded by love and laughter. She never saw a spindle or heard the gentle whir of spinning. The King and Queen watched over her carefully, and Fairy Hippolyta visited often, bringing little gifts and gentle magic to keep her safe. Aurora grew into a kind and curious girl, with a smile as bright as sunshine and a heart full of dreams.
One sunny day, when Aurora was almost sixteen, the King and Queen traveled to one of their country houses. The palace was quiet, and Aurora, feeling adventurous, decided to explore. She tiptoed away from her governess and wandered through long, echoing hallways, up marble staircases, and into rooms she had never seen before. At last, she found a narrow, winding staircase leading up to a tall turret she had never visited.
As Aurora climbed higher and higher, she heard a strange, gentle whirring sound. It was soft and mysterious, and it made her even more curious. When she reached the very top, the sound stopped, but she saw an open door and peeked inside.
There, in a tiny, sunlit room, sat an old woman with kind eyes and silver hair, dressed in a faded shawl. She was busy with something Aurora had never seen before—a spindle and distaff. The old woman had lived in the turret for many years and had never heard about the King’s law. She spun her thread quietly, just as she always had.
Aurora stepped into the room and asked politely, “What are you doing, good lady?”
The old woman smiled, not knowing she was speaking to the Princess. “I am spinning, dear child.”
“Spinning?” Aurora repeated, her eyes wide with wonder. “What is spinning?”
The old woman chuckled softly. “Spinning is making thread from wool or flax. In my day, every girl learned to spin. It’s a useful skill for keeping a good home.”
Aurora watched the spindle twirl and the thread grow longer and longer. “It looks so pretty! May I try?”
The old woman nodded and handed Aurora the spindle. Aurora reached out, eager to learn, but as soon as she touched it—perhaps she was too excited, or perhaps the fairy Malvera’s magic was at work—the spindle pricked her finger.
“Oh!” Aurora gasped, and before she could say another word, she felt very sleepy. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she sank gently to the floor, falling into a deep, enchanted sleep.
The old woman was frightened and hurried to the stairs, calling for help. But her voice was thin and weak, and the turret was far from the busy parts of the palace. Downstairs, the servants were playing cards and didn’t hear her at first. When they finally noticed, they argued about who should go, since no one remembered ever being called to that lonely tower. At last, they sent the youngest page-boy, but when he saw Aurora’s tiny drop of blood, he fainted away, and the old woman had to call for help all over again.
And so, while the palace was still and quiet, Princess Aurora slept on, her dreams watched over by gentle Fairy Hippolyta, who had promised to help her when the time was right.
The youngest scullery maid, who was kind and always tried her best, was sent up the winding stairs to the turret. She hurried as fast as she could, her heart thumping with worry. When she peeked into the little sunlit room, she gasped at what she saw—Princess Aurora, lying so still on the floor, with the old woman wringing her hands in fright. The scullery maid rushed back down, her apron fluttering, and told the others the terrible news.
At once, the palace was filled with commotion. The servants dropped their cards and ran up the stairs, their shoes clattering on the stone steps. Soon, everyone in the palace was crowding into the tiny turret room—maids, cooks, footmen, and even the palace doctors. The doctors tried everything they could think of to wake Aurora. They sprinkled cool water on her cheeks, loosened her dress, and gently patted her hands. They tickled her feet and waved sweet-smelling herbs under her nose. They even held a big meeting to talk about what to do, but nothing worked. Aurora slept on, peaceful and still, as if she were only dreaming.
While the doctors were still scratching their heads, a messenger galloped off to find the King and Queen. The King came rushing home, his heart full of worry. When he saw his daughter, he remembered the words of the fairies and knew this was the spell they had warned him about. He did not blame anyone, for he understood that some things are meant to be. With gentle care, he ordered that Aurora be carried to the grandest room in the palace. There, they laid her on a beautiful bed embroidered with gold and silver threads.
Aurora looked so lovely as she slept, with rosy cheeks and lips as pink as coral. Her long lashes rested softly on her cheeks, and her gentle breathing showed she was not gone, only sleeping. The King told everyone to leave her in peace and let her rest until the time came for her to wake.
Far away, in the magical Kingdom of Mataquin, Fairy Hippolyta was visiting friends when she heard the news. A tiny dwarf, wearing magical boots that could leap seven leagues in a single step, brought her the message in no time at all. Hippolyta hurried back, riding in her sparkling chariot pulled by friendly dragons. She arrived at the palace in a flash, and the King met her at the gates, his eyes full of hope.
Hippolyta listened to what had happened and nodded kindly. She knew that when Aurora finally woke, she would be sad if everyone she loved was gone. So, Hippolyta decided to help in a very special way. She took her magic wand and tiptoed through the palace, touching everyone and everything with gentle magic.
She touched the King and Queen, the ministers and teachers, the cooks and gardeners, the guards and pages, and even the tiniest mouse in the pantry. She touched the horses in the stables, the big friendly dogs in the yard, and Aurora’s own little dog, Tiny, and her fluffy black-and-white cat, Fluff, curled up on a cushion by the bed.
The moment Hippolyta touched them, everyone and everything in the palace fell into a deep, peaceful sleep. The cooks nodded off with their aprons still on, the guards leaned on their spears and snored, and even the fire in the kitchen fireplace stopped crackling and went to sleep. The palace became as quiet as a dream, waiting for the day when Princess Aurora would wake and everyone would open their eyes together.
Outside, the gardens grew wild and green, and a gentle hush settled over the land. But inside, the palace was safe and still, watched over by the kind Fairy Hippolyta, who made sure that when Aurora’s time came, she would wake to a world full of love and laughter, just as before. And so, the whole palace slept on, wrapped in a magical, peaceful slumber, waiting for the day when the spell would be broken and joy would return.
But not everyone in the palace had fallen under Fairy Hippolyta’s gentle spell. There was one person who missed it entirely—the Minister of Marine. He was a rather sleepy man, with a fondness for soft pillows and warm slippers, and he often overslept in the mornings. On this particular day, he woke up late and hurried to the palace, not knowing anything about the magical slumber that had settled over everyone inside.
Since he was running behind, the Minister decided to slip in quietly through a little side door, hoping no one would notice his tardiness. He tiptoed down the empty halls, expecting to hear the usual sounds of busy footsteps and cheerful chatter. But the palace was silent. When he peeked into his office, he saw his under-secretary and all the clerks fast asleep at their desks, their heads resting on piles of papers. The Minister blinked in surprise. He was quite an expert at spotting a nap, but this was no ordinary snooze!
Curious and a little worried, he crept farther into the palace. Everywhere he looked, people and animals were sleeping soundly—maids curled up in corners, cooks dozing by the ovens, and even the palace cats and dogs snuggled together in peaceful dreams. The Minister’s suspicions grew stronger with every step. Something very strange had happened.
He tiptoed back outside, careful not to wake anyone, and hurried home. Though he was usually a bit lazy, he could be quick when he needed to be. He wrote notices and had them posted all around the town, warning everyone to stay away from the palace. “The people inside are resting,” the signs said, “because of a rare and temporary Sleeping Sickness.” But, as it turned out, the warnings weren’t really needed.
For just as the Minister finished his notices, something magical began to happen. All around the palace, trees started to grow—tall oaks, twisty willows, and leafy maples. Thick bushes and prickly briars tangled together, weaving a green wall that grew higher and higher. Soon, the palace was hidden deep inside a wild, enchanted forest. Only the very tops of the tallest towers peeked out above the leaves, and even those could only be seen from far, far away.
The spell was the work of the evil fairy, who had once cast the curse on Princess Aurora. She was tall and elegant, with long black hair that shimmered like midnight, violet eyes that sparkled with secrets, and sharp, striking features. She wore a dark green gown trimmed with black lace, and in her hand she carried a silver staff topped with a glowing crystal. With a wave of her staff, she made sure that no one—no curious person or wandering animal—could find a way through the thick, thorny forest to disturb the sleeping princess and her friends.
Years and years passed. The palace stayed hidden, wrapped in silence and dreams, while the world outside changed and grew. The story of the sleeping castle became a mystery. Some people whispered that it was haunted by ghosts. Others said that witches and wizards met there to cast their spells. The most popular tale was that a fearsome ogre lived inside, snatching up children who wandered too close. No one dared to go near, for the forest was too wild and tangled for anyone to pass.
But one bright day, a young prince named Florimond was out riding with his friends, hunting in the woods near the enchanted forest. As he chased a deer, he looked up and saw the tops of the castle towers shining above the trees. Curious, he asked the people with him, “What is that old castle, hidden in the middle of the woods?”
Everyone had a different story to tell. Some said it was haunted. Others claimed it was a meeting place for witches. Still others whispered about the ogre and his terrible appetite. Prince Florimond listened to them all, but he wasn’t sure what to believe.
Then, an old peasant stepped forward and spoke quietly. “Your Highness, long ago my father told me that a beautiful princess lies asleep in that castle. She has been waiting for many, many years, and one day, a prince will come to wake her.”
As soon as Florimond heard these words, his heart filled with hope and excitement. He felt certain that he was the prince meant to break the spell. Without waiting another moment, he set off toward the tangled forest, determined to discover the truth and find the sleeping princess for himself.
Leaping down from his horse, Prince Florimond’s heart beat fast with excitement and a little bit of worry. He started to run toward the edge of the enchanted forest, his boots crunching softly on the grass. The prince’s friends and attendants, who had been riding with him, suddenly realized what he was about to do. They called out, “Wait! Come back!” But Florimond was already dashing ahead, determined to see the mysterious castle for himself.
Just as he reached the thick wall of trees and brambles, something magical happened. All the tall oaks, twisty willows, leafy maples, and prickly briars began to move. The branches and vines untangled themselves, curling away from the prince’s path. The forest opened up, making a long, green tunnel just for him. Sunlight danced through the leaves, lighting the way to the castle hidden deep inside.
Florimond glanced back, hoping his friends could follow, but as soon as he stepped into the leafy tunnel, the branches and bushes closed up behind him, thick and tangled as ever. He could hear his friends’ voices, calling his name, but they grew fainter and fainter until all he could hear was the gentle rustle of leaves. Still, Florimond pressed on, feeling brave and hopeful. He was a prince, after all, and princes are known for their courage.
At the end of the green tunnel, the old castle walls shimmered in the sunlight. Florimond strode forward, pushing aside curtains of ivy that hung over the gateway. He stepped into a wide, silent courtyard. It was so quiet that Florimond held his breath for a moment. All around him, people and animals lay perfectly still, as if they were frozen in time. There were guards in bright uniforms, dogs curled up by their feet, and even a few palace cats napping in the sun. But as Florimond looked closer, he saw that everyone was just sleeping, not hurt at all. Some guards still held cups in their hands, as if they had dozed off in the middle of a party.
Florimond tiptoed past them, careful not to disturb anyone. He crossed another beautiful courtyard, this one paved with shiny marble. He climbed a grand staircase and entered the palace through a huge doorway. Inside, he found a guardroom where all the soldiers stood in a row, their eyes closed, gently snoring. Florimond smiled to himself—he had never seen so many people asleep at once!
He wandered through room after room, each filled with ladies and gentlemen in fancy clothes, all dreaming peacefully. Some were sitting, some were standing, and one lady had even fallen asleep while pouring tea. Florimond gently moved aside a heavy purple curtain and peeked into the grand Hall of State. There, at a long table, sat the King and his Council, all fast asleep. The Lord Chancellor had nodded off with his pen still in the inkpot, and the Archbishop was dozing with his snuffbox in hand. Between their spectacles, a clever little spider had spun a sparkling web.
Florimond tiptoed past the sleeping King and his advisors, careful not to make a sound. He left the hall and found himself at the foot of a grand staircase. Up he went, his footsteps echoing softly. He wandered down a long corridor, stopping at a door that caught his eye. When he opened it, he found a beautiful bathroom lined with shining mirrors. In the middle was a big, round bath filled with sparkling water, bubbling gently. Nearby, a soft couch waited, with fresh towels and a handsome court suit laid out—complete with lace ruffles and shiny satin shoes.
Florimond realized he was dusty and tired from his long ride and his adventure through the magical forest. He smiled, thinking how wonderful it would be to have a bath. So, without another thought, he washed away the dust and dressed in the fine clothes, which fit him perfectly, as if they had been made just for him. Feeling refreshed and ready, Prince Florimond took a deep breath and prepared to continue his journey through the enchanted palace, hoping he would soon find the sleeping princess he had come to save.
Feeling clean and brave in his new clothes, Prince Florimond walked quietly down the long, golden corridor. He tried the very next door, and it opened with a gentle creak. Inside, the room was bright and beautiful, with walls of shining white and gold. In the middle of the room stood a grand bed with its curtains drawn wide. There, sleeping peacefully, was the most beautiful princess Florimond had ever seen. She looked about seventeen or eighteen, with soft hair spread across her pillow and cheeks as rosy as springtime flowers. Florimond’s heart fluttered with wonder—he could hardly believe his eyes.
The princess lay so still, her breathing as gentle as a whisper. Florimond tiptoed closer, feeling both excited and a little shy. He knelt beside her, his hands trembling just a bit. Carefully, he leaned forward and softly pressed his lips to hers, a tender kiss that seemed to awaken the air around them.
At that very moment, something magical happened. The long spell that had kept the princess sleeping began to melt away. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at Florimond with a warm, gentle smile. Her eyes sparkled, as if she had been waiting for him all along.
“Is it you, my prince?” she whispered softly. “You have been a long time coming!”
Florimond’s heart filled with happiness. He smiled back, not quite sure what to say, but knowing he loved her very much. The princess, whose name was Aurora, seemed to understand. They gazed at each other, feeling as if they had known one another forever. They talked quietly, sharing their dreams and hopes, and sometimes just smiling without saying a word. It was as if all the love and kindness in the world was right there in that golden room.
While Florimond and Aurora were meeting for the very first time, something wonderful was happening all through the castle. The magic spell was lifting everywhere! In the Council Chamber, the King blinked awake and asked the Lord Chancellor to please read the last sentence again, a little more clearly this time. The Lord Chancellor, still sleepy, dipped his quill into the inkpot, only to find it was dry as dust. The Archbishop, reaching for his snuffbox, sneezed so loudly that all the clocks in the palace began to chime at once, trying to catch up for all the hours they had missed.
Down in the kitchens, dogs barked and chased their tails, doors banged open and shut, and the princess’s parrot squawked from his cage, answered by the peacocks calling from the sunny terrace. The Minister for Agriculture, forgetting his manners, cupped his hands and called across the table, “Your Majesty, may we please have dinner now?” Everyone was so hungry after their long, magical nap!
Even the Queen, who had fallen asleep while talking with her ladies about the best color for royal mourning, finally woke up and sent a message to the princess. She said she was very hungry and that, in her day, princesses always came to greet their parents right away after waking from an enchantment.
Florimond, remembering his manners, helped Princess Aurora to her feet. She was already dressed in a sparkling gown, looking every bit a princess. Hand in hand, they walked down the grand staircase to the great hall, where the King and Queen were waiting with open arms. They hugged Aurora tightly, so happy to see her awake and safe. Then they turned to Florimond, welcoming him warmly and thanking him for his courage and kindness.
Soon, everyone made their way to the palace dining room, which was lined with shining mirrors. The tables were set with delicious food, and the royal musicians played sweet music on their violins and flutes. The whole palace was filled with laughter and joy, as if springtime had come again. And just as everyone was finishing their meal, a wonderful surprise was about to happen—one that would make this magical day even more special.
As the laughter and music drifted through the palace, Prince Florimond hardly noticed anything except Princess Aurora’s bright smile. He was so happy to be with her that he forgot all about the friends and attendants who had come with him, and even about his own parents, who must have been very worried by now. But the King—Aurora’s father—was wise and thoughtful. He knew that everyone would feel better if Prince Florimond’s family heard the good news right away.
So, before dinner, the King called for his fastest messenger. “Ride quickly,” he said, “and tell Prince Florimond’s father that his son is safe and happy, and that a wonderful adventure has happened here.” The messenger hurried off, and as he rode through the enchanted woods, the thick branches and brambles moved aside for him, just as they had for Florimond. Soon, he reached the edge of the forest, where a search party was trying to find a way in. There, standing among them, was Florimond’s father—the old King—looking very worried indeed.
When the messenger gave him the joyful news, the old King’s eyes filled with tears of relief. “My son is safe!” he cried. “Please, take me to him at once!” The messenger led the way, and the enchanted forest opened up for them, letting the King pass through easily. At last, he arrived at the palace, where he was welcomed with warm smiles and gentle words.
The two Kings met in the great hall, both feeling a little shy but very glad to see each other. They shook hands and sat side by side on the royal dais, watching their children laugh and talk together. The old King, Florimond’s father, spoke first. “I am an old man,” he said kindly. “I have ruled for many years, but now, all I wish for is to see my son happy.”
Aurora’s father smiled and nodded. “I think we can promise each other that,” he replied, glancing at the two young people, who looked so happy together. “What matters most is that our children are safe and joyful.”
The two Kings agreed that it was time for new beginnings. They decided, right then and there, that Prince Florimond and Princess Aurora should be married and rule together, bringing happiness to both their kingdoms.
After supper, the palace was filled with excitement. The Archbishop, who had finally finished sneezing, prepared the chapel for a beautiful wedding. The Princess’s mother helped Aurora with her sparkling gown, and the first maid-of-honor fluffed the pillows and drew the curtains in the royal chamber.
The wedding was magical. The royal musicians played gentle music, and everyone in the palace gathered to watch as Prince Florimond and Princess Aurora promised to love and care for each other forever. The two Kings and the Queen stood proudly by, their eyes shining with happiness.
As the stars twinkled outside, the newlyweds were led to their cozy room, where they talked and laughed late into the night. Aurora felt as if she were still dreaming, but this time, it was the happiest dream of all.
The next morning, Prince Florimond took Aurora’s hand, and together they walked out into the bright sunshine. The people of the city cheered and waved, so glad to see their princess awake and joyful, and to welcome their brave new prince. From that day on, Prince Florimond and Princess Aurora ruled with kindness and wisdom, and the whole kingdom was filled with peace and laughter.
And though the memory of the evil fairy—tall and elegant, with long black hair, violet eyes, and a sharp, mysterious smile—still lingered in stories, everyone knew that love and courage had broken her spell at last. The fairy, dressed in her dark green gown with black lace and carrying her silver staff with its glowing crystal, was never seen in the kingdom again.
So, Prince Florimond and Princess Aurora lived happily ever after, surrounded by friends, family, and all the gentle magic of a love that could never be broken. And whenever the sun shone through the palace windows, it seemed to dance with joy, just like the hearts of everyone who lived there.
The end.