The
dinner celebration had begun.
People dressed in elegant finery sat all around the king.
The food on the long table was prepared with the greatest care and delicacy.
But Shin could not enjoy himself.
Because in front of him sat the witch, and something about her made him
uncomfortable.
She looked exactly the same as before, but was not the same person, Shin
kept thinking.
"You know a lot about bees," said the king. "Have you long had an interest
in them?"
"Not so long," replied Shin.
"I used to lie next to beehives and listen to a beekeeper tell his stories."
"I see," said the king, his eyes sparkling like a young boy's. "They must
have been interesting stories."
"Yes, very much. Every spring he would start travelling from the south,
heading north following the flower blossoms."
"Oh, really? He would travel carrying his beehives?"
"Yes. To make sure that the worker bees could find plenty of flowers,
he would load the hives onto a cart and set out on foot."
"Hmm. And even in different surroundings the bees could find their way
back to the hive?" asked the king.
"Without any problems," answered Shin.
"There are even worker bees that buzz their wings at the entrance to give
off a scent to guide the bees home."
"Well, that's quite a feat."
"Also the worker bees tell the others where the flowers are that they
found."
"Tell the others? How is that?"
"They do a dance."
"A dance! Well, that's surprising. That's what the beekeeper told you?"
"Yes," replied Shin. "The beekeeper loved his bees very much."
"Ah, the life of a beekeeper. People have so many different occupations."
The king sighed.
"I sometimes think how nice it would be to lie on the grass and listen
to such stories."
"Why don't you, then?"
"I couldn't. A person of my status couldn't do that."
"Your Majesty, you're wrong about that," said Shin. "Does status prevent
the king from doing as he pleases?"
The king was surprised at Shin and just looked at him.
Nobody had ever been so straight with the king before and told him that
he was wrong.
But the more the king thought about it, the more he knew that the artist
was right.
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