But the lady was no longer content, and her friends could feel it with all their precious mushroom fantasies. They had seen her clamber out one evening after the lord of bats to explore the outside. They  had felt her return withered and tired from the harsh noon. But she had returned to them only in body. Her spirit still roamed the fields of poppy and cavorted with the prince of flowers. 

Their fantasies could not help but be colored by her joy and the sensations of the thousands of flowers in every color imaginable to the sun that the prince showered upon her. And they quivered and carry those dreams with them still and bequeath them to a few special mortals who are allowed to see the Mushroom Queen being wooed by the Prince of Flowers. But even those special few think that it is but their own imagination fueled by the little mushrooms. 

They don't believe that there is a little  princess who still mourns that spring day when she became queen of the mushrooms because the Prince of Flowers made her a woman. The little princess, so in love she had given up her kingdom, and in so doing taken his, and become a queen. A young queen widowed every fall, with no one for comfort during the long winters but her little mushroom subjects. 

He gave his love forever and ever, and expired upon the first heavy frost. And she never thought she could survive it. 

But the lord of bats was wise and the winter was only so long and as the last frost broke, the lord of bats grabbed the mourning queen one evening and left her to greet the morning glories as they first blossomed to meet the spring sun. The Prince of Flowers sprung lively and bright from the earth once more to swear his undying love to the Queen of Mushrooms.