Craig's Blog of Destiny

A few weeks ago I mentioned that one of the things I’m grateful for are good writers and the things they write.  Just after that I came across the following from the introduction to Orson Scott Card’s book, Hart’s Hope.  It’s about as good a piece of writing as I’ve seen in a long, long time.  I’ve edidted some out of the beginning, keeping just a paragraph to set the stage for what I’ve included.

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He came to her in her garden, where her women were draping her with flowers, which they must do every day of the spring.  “What is the name of the girl?” he asked.
…
And she smiled at him, for he was a fit king.
“May I live then?” he asked her.
She nodded.
“With my lifelong accoutrements intact?”
The women giggled, but she did not laugh. She only nodded, gravely, once again.
“Then may I risk my life again, and tell you that you are only a child, and yet I have never seen such perfect beauty in all my life.”
She nodded to Born-among-Falling-Lilac-Petals.
“Of course she is beautiful, Almost-King-of-Burland. She is the Flower Princess.”
“No,” he said. “I do not speak of her perfect face or the flowers that look harsh beside her perfect skin or the way her hair looks deep as a new-plowed field in the sunlight. I say she has the perfect beauty of a woman who will never tell a lie in all her life.”
He could not have known, unless a god told him, that she had taken that most terrible of all vows when she was given to the sea at the age of five. She was bound to the truth, and though she had said not a word to him, though not even the Sea Mothers knew of her vow, he had looked at her and seen it.
“She is not a woman,” said Born-among-Falling-Lilac-Petals. “She is only eleven years old.”
“I will marry you,” said Palicrovol. “When you are twenty years old, if I am King of Burland I will send for you and you will come to me, for I am the only king in all the world who can bear the beauty of a wife who will not lie.”
She stood then, letting the flowers fall where they would, ignoring the gasps of her women. She reached out and touched his wrist, where he opened his hand to her. “Palicrovol, I will marry you then whether you are King or not.”
Palicrovol answered, “My lady, if I am not King by then, I will be dead.”
“I do not believe that you will ever die,” she said.
Then her women wept, for she had now betrothed herself, and it could not be undone however her father might grieve or rage at her choice.
But Palicrovol cared nothing for their keening. “My lady,” he said, “I do not even known your name.”
She nodded to Bent-Back-from-Birth. She could not say her own name, for in those days her name was not true.
Bent-Back-from-Birth found her voice despite her weeping, and said the name of the Flower Princess. “Here-Is-the-Woman-with-the-Joy-of-All-Women-in-Her-Face. The-Pain-of-All-Women-in-Her-Heart.”
Palicrovol repeated the name softly, looking at her lips. “Enziquelvinisensee Evelvenin,” he said. She listened joyfully, for with his love she was sure that someday those words would be true, though she feared the path that would lead her to her name. “I will send for you,” he said, “and you will be worth more to me than the Antler Crown.”
He went away, and the Flower Princess waited for him. In all her life she has never regretted her betrothal, nor grudged the terrible price she paid for him, nor lied to Palicrovol, even when you wished her to lie, even when you commanded her, so cruelly, not to speak.