Chapter 4
Alaric.
I storm quickly down the steps of the platform, my ears ringing from the din of the crowd. My father is an ass, once again. His heart is hard as stone, but at least he will listen to reason. To kill an enchantress would have been disastrous for diplomatic relations with the eastern realms. They are more superstitious than we are here in Celestria, where we gave up such tales of magic long ago.
In a cold rage, I make quickly for the gates of the fairground as the crowd hoots and hollers at the dancing bears. Despite the heat, I pull my cloak tightly about me and cover my head. Enough of playing the part of the Imperial Prince.
I dart through row after row of silly courtesans, drunk on fine wine and sweat meats. Finally, I am greeted by the sweet embrace of the tunnels which will usher me to the palace, away from the watchful eyes of the horrid masses.
My steps echo rhythmically against the stone walls of the tunnel. I walk quickly through the passageway into the cool dark of the crypt, pausing only a moment to glance at the tomb of my mother. Oh, mother. Had I known you, would things be different? Her sculpted portrait gazes serenely into the stone ceiling above her. But she is dead like everything else under my father’s rule.
Entering my chamber I take pains to shake off the noise and dust of this horrid day. With a heavy sigh I sit and close my eyes. From beneath my eyelids, my vision is flooded with an amethyst light.
That girl. Who was she?
Enough of this now. I must go where no one will find me.
“Do not follow me,” I bark as I exit my chambers. The royal guards stiffen at attention, barely concealing their inquisitive gaze as I storm past them. “I shall remain within the confines of the palace grounds,” I mutter gruffly, anticipating their question. My father’s strict rules make me feel like a prisoner.
Back down to the tunnels, back down to the crypt, past the tomb of my mother, and left to the forgotten passage that leads to the orchard to the east of the palace.
The trees hang heavy with summer fruits, now nearly ripe. I race past with barely a glance. I follow the stream deep into the woods. The air hangs heavily with the whine of summer insects, and I absent-mindedly brush my fingers against the foliage.
Finally, I come to the forgotten river. Its water slinks along the riverbank, sliding like liquid glass over dark rocks.
I have been coming here since I was big enough to walk on my own. I don’t know why. Maybe because it’s the only place in this city that doesn’t bear the fingerprints of my father’s tyranny. Maybe because…
I remove my cloak, exposing the thin white shirt beneath. My skin is taught over my honed muscles. I remove my boots, my trousers, unhook my dagger from its hilt. My shirt falls to the ground. I wade into the cool water, my skin prickling from the cold.
The sun hangs lower in the sky. I let the water wash over my naked form, running in rivulets over my muscles, plastering my dark hair to my head.
In the forgotten river I am finally clean. I feel weightless. I am no longer the Prince destined to rule the Empire. I am but a man, but a body, floating beyond time.
Violet greets me behind my closed eyes. Why can’t I stop seeing that girl’s eyes? She’s only another woman. My body tenses and a warm flush rises from within me. Her?
There has never been anybody. Sure, the occasional whores orchestrated by Elias to ensure my princely needs are met. The love-making was mechanical, meaningless. When I finished I turned away in disgust.
There was Alessandra, the courtesan-harlot from Argon. I envision her supple body sliding against mine on silk sheets. But even her expert caresses made me feel nothing. She was just another hustler, using me for her own power and prestige in the same way I was using her body.
There is nobody in this world who really knows me. Only Elias. How can he take such a light view of things? Our kingdom is stretched beyond its limits, my father is a tyrant, and there is no point in any of this. I wish I could find someone to take my place. I wish I could stay in this river forever.
And even if it were her… a common woman…this would be impossible.
I saw how love ruined my father. Oris, the old historian, once took me aside as a boy after my father had been especially harsh.
“Alaric, my child,” he said as he gently brushed the tears from my eyes, “your father doesn’t mean to hurt you. He is hurt himself, you know.”
But I didn’t know. I didn’t understand what could possibly beget such cruelty from the man who was supposed to be my father.
Once, when I accidentally dropped a cup, my father snapped. He berated me for being weak, small, useless, though I was just a child. He was worked up into a frenzy. Finally he spat out the words that revealed the truth.
“You killed her! You killed your perfect mother, the only person I’ve ever loved! YOU—KILLED—HER!”
I, of course, couldn’t help that my mother died as she birthed me.
His furious words echoed through the banquet hall, empty but for a few guards. From then on he refused to speak to me unless it was strictly necessary.
This is what love does to people. It turns them into monsters.
With a sigh, I drop my head beneath the water. The river takes these memories away downstream. The sun has set now, and the cool night is a relief after the heat of the day. A silver moon reflects on the moving water.
Dark trees loom on the river bank. They are the real keepers of the realm, who saw the land when it was bathed in blood. That was the time of a different sort of monster from my father.
A cool mist descends over the forgotten river and the soft cooing of wood doves comes through the trees.
But another sound joins theirs. I strain my ears to hear. I swim further up the river towards the sound.
A woman’s voice, sweet and clarion, drifts towards me on the mist. It’s the most beautiful singing I’ve ever heard singing an old song I do not recognize.
As though by magic, I swim quietly closer to the sound so as not to disturb the singer. I am not thinking. My body moves of its own accord.
The mist parts and my eyes widen. I freeze in complete awe of what I see.