King Rupert ruled a small kingdom of three cities and twelve villages, but they were the richest lands in all the world. For generations his country had been at war with invaders from the east and west, and the people were weary of fighting to protect their land. When Rupert ascended the throne, he vowed that he would lead his people to vanquish their enemies once and for all. The young king proved himself a mighty warrior and skillful leader, winning battle after battle until his last enemy surrendered three years later.
When all the peace treaties had been signed, the people spent two weeks in joyous celebration. Much good food and wine were taken and many songs sung about the valour of the king and his mighty army. The people rejoiced that they could at last put away their weapons to till their land and build a better future for their children.
Although Rupert was happy with his people, laughing, dancing, and even composing a few songs for the occasion, his heart was aching. The weight of his responsibilities rested heavy upon him, and he longed to have a companion in whom he could confide. Yet, because Rupert had been focused on being the warrior and ruler his people needed for so long, he did not know what traits he sought from a queen—let alone how to find her. To curb his longing, the young king threw himself into a new plan to protect his people. He knew that his enemies would not honor the terms of their treaties for long, unless he could secure his borders with fear.
Rupert gathered his best engineers to build a maze beneath the capital that would run all the way to his country’s borders. The paths of the maze were lined with thorny brambles and poisoned plants, and many deep pits were dug and traps set throughout to hasten the deaths of his enemies. Two hundred bards were commissioned to travel throughout the world to sing songs and tell tales of the horrors of this labyrinth. The pits were said to be so deep that fifty men could plunge to their deaths in just one of them alone, and those who did not meet this swift end would soon be choked to death by the many long hanging branches whipped about by the shrieking wind. The thought of wandering about this sunless labyrinth, followed constantly by a wind carrying the screams of the perishing, knowing always that death waited at every corner, was enough to melt the resolve of the seasoned warrior.
The maze took years to plan and build, and Rupert took pains to draw detailed maps for the workmen so that they could find their way to the nearest exit. At last, the work was finished. All but one of the exits were sealed off, its location known only to the king. The entrance to the maze beneath the palace gates was guarded day and night by two sentries, and all but one copy of the maps were collected and burned. This last copy, which showed the only path through the maze,
was hidden in a vault with five locks, set within the walls of his rooms. By this time, the legends surrounding the labyrinth have grown to be so terrifying that, for a long time, the peoples feared even to approach the outskirts of Rupert’s kingdom.
Now that the construction of the labyrinth was complete, Rupert found that his work could no longer suppress the loneliness in his heart.
Eating and drinking became a cheerless chore, and sleep often eluded the young king. Yet, what worried Rupert’s ministers most was when the king began to wander in his sleep. For several nights a week he would stagger onto the palace battlements, climb up the observation towers to wander about for several minutes, then turn around to walk back to his own chambers.
Because no one knew when and for how long Rupert would be roaming about each night, pages and squires were dispatched throughout the palace to watch for the king, and prevent him from harming himself. Rupert always woke up from one of these excursions feeling no more rested than when he went to sleep the night before, and it was not long before he grew thin and lost his color. One day, when he felt too weak to get up from his bed to work, Rupert finally became fearful of his own condition and sent for his chief physician.
“Your Majesty,” the physician said, “your condition is not uncommon, but there is little I can do for you with my arts. It is time for you to find a queen who could help you shoulder the burdens of ruling our land.”
When Rupert heard this, he shuddered. His heart thumped in his chest at the thought of reveling night after night in foreign lands to search for a royal spouse, enduring hours of bantering and court gossip with princes and princesses who knew nothing of life outside their gilded palaces. After a long stretch of silence, he finally asked in despair, “How many parties?”
The wise doctor, reading the king’s thoughts, answered quietly, “Only one, your Majesty.”