“Oh, Mihaita, look!” She was enthralled by the thing, such a peculiar shape, “What is it, do you know?” He shook his head, reaching for the tool. He picked it up and placed it on the table in the center of the kitchen. Aurora quickly lost interest, and the two began talk of the honey the bees would produce.

Mihai took her back to the garden, and they stood under a beech tree as the sun set, and night began to creep over the eastern horizon. “Oh, sweet Aurora, how soon our dawn will come.” Mihai whispered into her ear, his words so sweet it was all Aurora could do to remain composed. The sky grew purple gray, and Aurora took advantage of the cover of darkness.

“Mihaita, what you say is sweeter than honey.” She giggled, “And your bumblebee is so fond of sweet things…” She leaned close to him, against the beech tree, and kissed him softly as the sky grew dark. Mihaita kissed her, too, until her mother’s shouts from the castle tugged them apart.

“Oh, my bumblebee,” he whispered, “How I love you.”