I stood under the towering castle wall, it was just another day in my commonplace life as a noteless maid.
A sudden baby cry shook the sun but the birth of a prince could not awaken my stranding life.
I stood under the towering castle wall, praises and blessings came to my ears: Some wished him to be benevolent; some wished him to be brave; some wished him to have a great future...
I have seen so many royals and nobles in my life, their authorities are like knives at my throat.
Just like this moment, I am waiting for my masters to punish me as my senility made me break the dishes.
A little figure stands in front of me with a short wooden sword — the praised prince is protecting me just like he swore to protect his subjects.
Now I wish so much he could grow up safely and bring warmth to people like the sun over Mahar Pura.
Kneeling on the cracked farmland, I prayed for the rain to save our dying crops, parched mouth, and despairing hearts.
But what came before the rain was our savior in golden armor, he brought us food and relieved our suffering.
When he looked down at his subjects, I could see a whole world in the depth of his eyes, a world that was as beautiful as a landscape.
When he raised his eyes, he noticed the figure of a little rosewood flower, which made the world in his eyes jump with joy.
Later, I was told that our savior, the crown prince of our kingdom, fell in love with a civilian girl.
He shook off his royal trifles and chased free life with the girl. However, free life is not all about the starry sky and love.
It also means paddy, sack clothes, and hard work within fields.
This time, the prince finally got the chance to see the truth of the world and the lives of his fellow subjects.
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I marched to the battlefield with my comrades as the enemy warships once again broke through our naval defenses.
The black waves flooded from the horizon toward us and soon turned into millions of blades.
My comrades, my brothers, were pierced by the blades. They told me to bring their last smile back to our hometown.
The black clouds poured out from enemy ships, covering the sun. We fought for our lives desperately but no hope could be seen.
Suddenly, a golden light split across the gloomy sky, driving away all the darkness on the battlefield.
I recognized the Sacred Spear in the comer's hand. That was our crown prince! The sun of Mahar Pura!
He blocked all the enemy attacks with his tough body.
He blew the horn to rally the desperate soldiers.
Torches gathered from all over the battlefield and formed a wildfire.
Under his leadership, we wrapped up all the darkness and pushed them back to where they came from.
Later, we knelt before our new king and swore to be his feet and spear. May Mahar Pura shine forever.
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I met him again at a very old age. He returned to the palace and basked in the radiance of the crown again.
I was told he once put aside his duties and lived a farmer's life with his true love. However, he couldn't turn a blind eye to the bitterness of his people.
He left his rosewood flower garden, reforged his Sacred Spear, and went back to the brutal battlefield.
Now I live behind the castle walls, free from the sound of battle horns. Thanks to warriors like him, I can still pour wine with care and respect.
I offer him the cup of wine, he looks down, there's loneliness in his eyes.
But the bright sun still shines upon the unvarying land of Mahar Pura as always.
