The Youngest Prince

The Youngest Prince

Once there was a king who had many children. His elder sons and daughters had long grown used to the rules of palace life: they knew when to bow, when to be silent, how to sit at the great table, and what answer pleased the councillors.

But the youngest brother and sister were a little different. They liked choosing where to go, what to learn, and whom to befriend. When their father began arranging their futures as if he were moving pieces across a chessboard, they said politely but firmly, “We are grateful, Father, but we want to find our own paths.”

At first the king frowned. Then he looked at his children for a long time and sighed.

“Very well. Go out into the world. Take your share of the inheritance, take care of one another, and do not forget where you come from.”

So brother and sister left the palace.

On the first day they crossed green meadows, on the second they travelled over hills, and on the third they followed a forest road. By evening their legs could scarcely carry them. Seeing a great tree with a thick crown, they made their bed beneath it.

“Tomorrow we shall decide where to go next,” said the brother.

“Tonight we shall simply sleep,” said his sister.

In the night, both had strange dreams.

The sister dreamed of a faraway city. Heavy bells hung over its towers, but no one rejoiced beneath them. She saw a royal palace and a sick ruler whom even the finest doctors could not help.

The brother dreamed of a grey-haired man in a long cloak. The man touched the trunk of the tree and said, “There is healing moisture in this tree. Gather it at dawn. It will help one who has long lost his strength.”

In the morning, brother and sister woke almost at the same moment.

“I dreamed of a city,” the sister began.

“And I dreamed of this tree,” said her brother.

They looked at one another and laughed.

“It seems our dreams know each other.”

Sure enough, clear drops were shining on the bark. The young travellers carefully collected them in a little vessel and continued their journey.

By noon the road led them to a great city. At its gate they heard the same news from everyone: the king was gravely ill, and no one knew how to restore his strength.

“Shall we try?” the sister asked softly.

“We shall,” said her brother. “But together.”

At first the palace folk looked at them with doubt. Yet after every usual remedy had been tried, the councillors allowed the young travellers to help.

The brother added a few drops of healing moisture to the water used to wash the king’s hands and face. His sister stayed close by, making sure the ruler rested, drank water, and was not worn out by conversation.

A day passed. Then a second.

On the third day, the king rose from his bed and went to the window.

“I have not seen the garden so green in a long while,” he said.

The palace came alive. Pots clattered in the kitchen, servants laughed in the courtyard, and the bells on the towers finally rang in celebration.

The king wished to know who had helped him. Brother and sister told him of their distant home, their journey, and their curious dreams.

The king spoke especially often with the sister. She was not afraid to disagree when she thought something unfair, and she could discuss affairs of state seriously while laughing at the royal cat asleep in the basket of letters.

In time, they grew to love one another.

“I want you to stay here,” the king said. “But only if that is what you want too.”

The sister smiled. “It is.”

The city held a wedding. Her brother, however, did not remain at the palace for long.

“You have found your place,” he told his sister. “Now I must seek mine.”

She embraced him and gave him a good horse for the road.

The young prince rode for several days before he met an old goldsmith sitting by the roadside beside a chest of tools. The old man looked closely at the traveller.

“You will not get far alone,” he said.

“And how do you know where I am going?”

“I do not,” the goldsmith replied. “But I do know that even the bravest person sometimes needs someone who can think differently.”

The prince laughed. “Then let us travel together.”

Before long they reached another kingdom. Everyone there spoke of a princess who lived very privately. She seldom appeared before strangers, and her father had announced an odd challenge: anyone who wished to ask for her hand had to name three magic signs that belonged to her alone. Whoever failed had to leave the court and trouble the princess no more.

“No one knows the signs,” an innkeeper explained. “And the princess herself is tired of this foolish game.”

The prince thought for a while.

“I do not want to guess a person as if she were a riddle,” he told the goldsmith. “I would rather speak with her first.”

“That is a much wiser thought,” the old man agreed.

Together they made an unusual plan.

For several days the goldsmith worked without rest. At last, in the city square, there stood a marvellous silver horse, shining like moonlight. It was hollow inside, with a small door hidden from view.

The royal court at once wanted to buy such a wonder for the princess.

The silver horse was carried to her rooms. That evening, when the attendants had gone, its little door opened quietly.

The prince stepped onto the carpet and raised his hands at once to show that he meant no harm.

The princess was surprised, but she did not scream.

“Is this a new way of making an acquaintance?” she asked.

“A very uncomfortable one,” the prince admitted. “I have spent an hour inside a silver horse, and I now respect ordinary doors more than ever.”

The princess laughed.

He told her why he had come. He spoke of the strange challenge and told her that he did not want to spy on her or trick her into telling her secrets.

“I came to ask you yourself,” he said. “Do you want this story to continue at all?”

The princess looked at him closely.

“I do,” she said. “I am tired of other people deciding everything for me too.”

Then she showed him the three magic signs herself: a golden sun on her forehead, a silver moon on her shoulder, and three small stars at her wrist.

“Now you know the answer honestly,” she said.

“And now I know something more important,” the prince replied. “You enjoy laughing at foolish rules.”

The next day, the princess made a tiny flaw in the silver horse’s ear so that it would be sent back to the goldsmith for repair. The prince slipped out of the palace unseen.

A few days later, he returned to court openly as a king’s son. The challenge was set before him.

On the first day, he gave the wrong answer.

On the second day, he did the same.

On the third, he asked that the princess be present in the hall.

“Enough riddles about a person without the person herself,” he said.

The king was surprised, but he agreed.

The princess entered the hall and stood beside him.

Then the prince said, “Her signs are the sun, the moon, and three stars. But that is not enough to know a person. I also know that she is brave, witty, and determined to choose her own fate.”

The hall fell silent.

The princess smiled. “Now that is the right answer.”

The king understood that the old challenge had outlived its purpose. He abolished it forever.

The prince and princess spent a long time talking, walking in the gardens, disagreeing, making peace, laughing, and growing fonder of one another. When they were both sure of their choice, they celebrated their wedding.

The prince’s sister came to the feast with her husband. She embraced her brother and whispered, “You did find your path after all.”

“Yes,” he said. “And the most interesting thing is that it began when we dared to choose for ourselves.”

From then on, people in that kingdom said that magic signs can hint at a way, and wise dreams can warn of trouble, but the most important choice is made by a person’s own heart and mind.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨