The Mud Prince
The Castle of Valdoro had three hundred rooms, and Prince Adrián had two hundred and ninety-nine to spare. Every hall smelled of perfume, every corridor hid a princess with a rehearsed smile, and every afternoon his mother repeated the same sentence:
"You will marry a princess, Adrián. Not just any woman."
That morning he didn't answer. He went down to the stables and looked for Tomás, his trusted guard.
"Saddle the horses. I need some air."
Shortly after, they were riding toward an open field near the castle. Adrián rode with the confidence of someone who had done it all his life and smiled for the first time in weeks.
"Don't worry, Tomás. I'll just ride around a bit."
Then the sky suddenly darkened. A flash of lightning struck a few yards away, and the horse neighed, reared up on its hind legs, and bolted toward the forest. Tomás shouted his name, but the wind carried his voice away.
Adrián pulled on the reins and whispered soothing words, but nothing worked. Branches whipped at his face as the trees passed like shadows. They ran for what felt like hours, until the animal slipped on soggy ground and they both tumbled into a mud puddle in front of a humble hut.
The rain soaked everything. Adrián lay there, covered in mud from head to toe, with an ankle burning like fire. No one would have said he was a prince. He looked like an ordinary beggar.
The hut's door opened. A young woman stepped out, alarmed by the noise, and stopped when she saw the man and the horse trembling in the downpour.
"Can you stand?" she asked without hesitation.
She took him by the arm and pulled him up. Adrián could barely put weight on his injured foot, so she carried part of his weight and brought him inside, sitting him down near the fire.
"Stay here."
She went back out into the rain. Through the window, Adrián watched her lead the horse under a thatched shelter, dry its back with a rag, and lay out fresh grass for it to eat and rest. When she returned, she was drenched, but she didn't complain. She opened a chest and pulled out clean, worn, humble clothes.
"They were my father's," she said softly. "He doesn't need them anymore. The shower is over there."
Adrián washed up and changed. The fabric was coarse, but it smelled clean, and for a moment he felt freer wearing it than he ever had before. When he came out, he handed her his dirty clothes.
"Thank you. I don't know how to repay you for this."
"You don't have to."
Adrián didn't reveal who he was. As she took the clothes, their fingers brushed, and without thinking, he held her hand and gently pulled her closer until they were face-to-face. She didn't pull away.
They stared at each other, startled, their hearts beating so loudly they almost drowned out the sound of the rain.
