Years passed. Decades passed. The castle disappeared behind the wall of thorns. People in the nearby villages told stories about a sleeping princess, but over time, the stories became legends, and the legends became myths. Most people stopped believing the story was true.

Then, exactly one hundred years after the princess fell asleep, a young prince from a distant kingdom was travelling through the region. An old man told him the legend of the sleeping princess and the castle behind the thorns.

"Many princes have tried to get through the thorns," said the old man. "But they all failed. The thorns are as thick as trees and as sharp as swords."

The prince decided to try anyway. He rode to the wall of thorns and drew his sword. But as he approached, something remarkable happened. The thorns began to move. They pulled apart, creating a path just wide enough for him to walk through. It was as if the hedge knew that the hundred years were up, and the time had come.

The prince walked through the thorns and into the castle courtyard. Everything was still and silent. Dust covered every surface. Cobwebs hung from the chandeliers. The horses were standing asleep in the stables, the dogs were lying asleep in the yard, and a rooster was frozen mid-crow on the roof.

The prince walked through the silent rooms. He saw the sleeping servants, the sleeping courtiers, the sleeping king and queen. He climbed the stairs, following some instinct he could not explain, until he reached the most beautiful room in the castle.

There, on a bed covered with gold and silver, lay the princess. She was just as beautiful as the day she had fallen asleep — the fairies' gifts had preserved her perfectly. Her cheeks were pink, her lips were red, and her hair spread across the pillow like a golden fan.

The prince leaned down and kissed her gently.

The princess opened her eyes. She looked at the prince and smiled — the first smile she had smiled in a hundred years.

"Is it you?" she whispered. "I have been waiting for you for so long. I dreamed of you."

All around the castle, the spell was breaking. The king stretched and yawned. The queen opened her eyes. The cook finished slapping the kitchen boy. The maid continued plucking the chicken. The horses shook their manes. The dogs wagged their tails. The flies buzzed again. Life returned to the castle as if no time had passed at all.

The prince and the princess were married that same week. The celebration lasted seven days and seven nights. And the wall of thorns — its purpose fulfilled — slowly retreated into the ground, leaving the castle open to the world once more.