The wind whispers a story: the sigh of a princess, alone in her tower. And she waits
She gazes out the window at the forest that grows darker and thicker each year.
Her captor, an ogre, no longer fears the coming of a hero: most have forgotten she was there, the rest turn back half-way and the beasts take care of the brave. He looks at her silently and holds out a rose, his ever rejected offering.
She wants to turn him down, as always. The echoes of the past ring in her ears with the cries of defeated heroes.
"How many has it been?" she asks, taking the flower.
The wind whispers a story: the beating of an ogre's heart within the petals of a rose.