Princess Rosie had a giggle as bright as sunshine, but sometimes, her words weren't quite as sweet. Her father, the King, wanted her to find a nice prince to marry. So, he invited princes from all over the land to a grand party.

One prince was very tall. "He looks like a lamppost!" Rosie whispered, not very quietly. Another was quite round. "He rolls more than he walks!" she giggled. Then came a kind young king with a chin that was just a tiny bit crooked. "Oh look!" snickered Rosie, "It's King Thrushbeard!" because his chin reminded her of a thrush bird's beak. All the other guests heard, and the young king's face turned red.

Rosie's father, the King, tapped his foot. His face was not happy. "Rosie," he said, his voice a bit rumbly like distant thunder, "that's not very kind. Since you find fault with everyone, you shall marry the very next beggar who comes to our door!"

Princess Rosie pouted, but the King meant what he said.

A few days later, a musician with a feather in his cap and a lute on his back came to the castle gate, singing a cheerful song. He wore simple clothes and had dusty shoes.
"He's the one!" declared the King.
Princess Rosie cried and begged, but the King kept his word. So, Princess Rosie, in a plain dress, married the musician.

"Come," said the musician gently, "we must go."
They left the grand castle. As they walked, they passed through a beautiful green forest.
"Whose lovely forest is this?" asked Rosie, her voice small.
"It belongs to King Thrushbeard," said the musician.
"Oh," whispered Rosie, feeling a little pinch in her heart. "If only I'd been nicer!"

Next, they walked by a wide, sparkling river with boats sailing on it.
"Whose wonderful river is this?" she asked.
"It belongs to King Thrushbeard," he replied.
Rosie sighed. "I wish I hadn't laughed at him."

Then, they came to a big, busy town with tall houses and bustling markets.
"And whose grand town is this?" she asked, almost in a whisper.
"It belongs to King Thrushbeard," said the musician.
Rosie felt very sorry for her unkind words.

Finally, they reached a tiny, tiny cottage with a crooked chimney. "This is our home," said the musician.
Rosie had never done any work in her life. The musician asked her to make a fire, but she only made a lot of smoke. He asked her to cook dinner, but she burned the soup.
"You're not very good at housework," said her husband, but he wasn't cross. "Perhaps you can sell pots at the market."

So, the next day, Rosie sat at a little stall with a row of shiny clay pots. She hoped someone would buy one. But suddenly, a soldier on a big, galloping horse rode right through the market too fast! CRASH! All her pretty pots broke into tiny pieces.
Rosie started to cry. "I'm not good at selling pots either!" she sobbed.

"Don't worry," said her husband. "I know the cook at the King's palace nearby. Maybe you can help in the kitchen there."
So Rosie became a kitchen helper in a grand palace. (It was, of course, King Thrushbeard's palace, but she didn't know that!) She scrubbed pots and swept floors. It was hard work. Sometimes, when there were leftovers, she would sneak a little piece of bread or cheese into her pockets to take home to her husband.

One evening, there was a huge celebration at the palace. The young King was having a ball! Music played, and ladies in sparkly gowns danced with princes in fine suits. Rosie peeked through the kitchen doorway, watching all the fun.
Suddenly, the handsome young King himself walked over to her. It was King Thrushbeard! But he looked so different, all dressed in royal clothes, and he wasn't frowning. He smiled at Rosie.
"Will you dance with me?" he asked kindly.
Rosie was so surprised and a little scared. She curtsied low, and as she did, the bread and cheese she had hidden tumbled out of her pockets and onto the shiny floor!
Everyone saw. Some people giggled. Rosie felt her cheeks turn bright red. She wanted to run away and hide.

But King Thrushbeard held her hand gently. "Don't go," he said softly, and his eyes twinkled. "Do you remember me, Rosie? I am the musician you married. And I am also King Thrushbeard, whose chin you made fun of."
Rosie stared.
"I wanted to help you learn that being proud and unkind can make you, and others, unhappy," he explained. "All those lands we passed, the forest, the river, the town – they are all mine. And this is my palace."
Rosie looked down at her simple dress and then up at him. She understood. She had learned her lesson. Her heart felt much lighter.

King Thrushbeard smiled. "Now that you've learned to be kind, let's have a proper wedding!"
And so they did. Princess Rosie was still beautiful, but now, her words were as kind and sunny as her smile. She never made fun of anyone again, and she and King Thrushbeard lived happily, with much less mocking and a lot more laughter.

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