The young prince lived in a castle. The castle was magnificent, ornate, filled with wonderful furniture, jewels, arms and armour, wealth and riches beyond compare. Its library was vast and had more books that a year has seconds. Outside its walls was a large splendid garden with beautiful roses and fields of colorful poppy flowers.
But the prince was alone, he searched in vain for other young people but there was no one to be found, not even a squeaky mouse. The prince tried many times to leave but he found he couldn't. The castle wouldn't let him. In the day he walked out, but when he fell asleep he found himself right back in his ornate chamber bed.
One day, the young prince found a baby boy in the garden, asleep among the roses. He took him in and raised him up, teaching the orphan all he knew. Then one day, the prince died; and orphan and castle mourned for him. All the flowers died and a mighty wind carried their petals, scattering them onto the corpse. The heavens opened, the sky grew dark, and it rained, and rained, and rained.
At last the orphan took the crown of the dead prince, and placed it on his own head. He said, "Behold I am the prince let me reign." The rain stopped as if on command, the sun shone, and the flowers bloomed.
But the young prince wept.