Jardin's Hope

The sky was a light pink, although grey masses marred the distant horizon. I can’t imagine how devastating yesterday’s bombings must have been, for me to see the ashy clouds from all the way over here. Which place is to be next, I wonder- the City Centre? Or our pride- the Palais de Verre?

The people of Jardin are angry, the common masses more so. Father says it is simply because that’s how the lower class people are- never grateful to their masters; never thankful for all the opportunities we bestow upon them. My father, Liege of the vast Territory of Jardin, says that long before I was even born, the streets were full of happy people. Now, the ports are half empty, the shipping trades have declined vastly, and the whole economy has fallen.

The King of Rison has expressed his deepest concerns over what is to happen should the land routes between our kingdoms be manipulated by the Red Clan, and its rebel leader, Rafe. I partake in the military expeditions, which are always led by Raiford Mortis, my father’s cunning General, and also my betrothed. We are at the edge of our seats, expecting bad news any moment now; this year, I could not even retire to my summer residence at Twelve Oaks, because Father feared for my safety.

I walk about on the terrace, my clothes still soiled and my hair knotted, after having just finished the hand-to-hand combat practice for the day. Nothing else I do can help me attain this peace and quiet. Sometimes, I do not know what I am living for, except to obey the King and defeat the rebelling Wildmen from the North. They are still sore over their loss in the Battle of Lancashire a year ago, and very much vengeful for the death of their leader at the hands of their oppressor’s daughter.

“Rose! Darling?!”

I school my features before I turn and greet the Queen, my mother- Marilyn Lily Piedmont.

“Hello, Mother. I hope you had a fruitful day today” I murmured politely. Nothing can deter my mother from being so chirpy at any time of the day. Or night.

“Of course! And I hope you had a nice day too, darling?!” I nod. “Alright! You’re not looking like the princess that you are! Go get dressed up quick. I’ve already had everything made ready for you, my dear!”

She pulls at my elbow and leads me in through my sleeping chamber, to my dressing room. On the chaise near the vast expanse of glittering glass panes, she had laid out a dress for me. As soon as I’ve registered that, Mammy comes and takes me to the bathing room. Thus, begins the long development in making a princess fit for the company.

When I step into the dining room, an hour later, I am curious to see the dark crown of midnight black hair on a person, seated in the large chair. He’s facing away from me, and busy talking to father, so I have no idea who it might be. The mother rises from her settee by the fireplace, seeing me enter, and comes to stand by me.

“Behave child! This is a very important person” she whispers frantically.

We walk around and come to a stand just by Father’s golden throne-like chair; he looks up and acknowledges us.

“The Queen Marilyn”, my mother does a slight curtesy and the man, whose feet are the only point of him I am concentrating on, shift, and he bows. His manner is impressive. Definitely a high-born.

“And the Princess Roslyn” I curtesy and finally let my eyes flick upwards. Our eyes clash and I am almost rooted to the spot. This man has eyes- so black they seemed fathomless, and a jawline that could cut steel. His five-o-clock shadow gives him a dangerous look but it was steadied by the lock of hair that falls on his forehead. His clothes were tailored to perfection, the coat a deep blue- almost black, and his slacks of the same. This here before me, is a man dangerous and with a primal animalistic passion to him.

“The Prince of Rison, Rafael St. Clair”

No wonder! I’d heard tales of him- how kind and just he was, but this man before me seemed too dark to match that description. I cursorily scan him before I look away. I’ve seen him somewhere.

It is not long before we are seated and dine on the lavish seven-course meal. It is a luxury I never take for granted. We do not talk and the silence suffocates me. Normally, on nights when there would be no guests, I excuse myself as soon as I am able to, but tonight it is impossible.

“Is the food not satisfactory?” the Queen asks the Prince.

“It is excellent, my Queen”

“Then pray tell, why do you not eat justly?”

The Prince seemed to ponder for a while. Our eyes clash and I feel so very aware of everything around us. He continues, looking at me.

“It does not feel right, us eating so lavishly while the people go hungry”

He did not just say that!! I can feel my eyes go wide open in shock. How dare he imply that we do not feed our people? How dare he enter our own household and insult us!

I am quick to defend. “It is not so. Surely, sir, you are mistaken. Our people are as happy as they can be, although I admit they are worried about the Red Clan. But still, that is quite far away and our forces are crushing it, just as we eat.”

The Prince almost smirks! He smirks at me and lifts up an eyebrow. How dare he laugh at me?

“You are right, madam. I apologize for my mistake.”

How could a man make an apology sound like a barb? For that was what it was. I could see it in the way he looked at me and kept smirking. The rest of the meal goes in silence, and I cannot be happier than when it finally ends. We wish each other goodnight before retiring into our bedchambers. I am not surprised that the Prince is to dwell within our halls. Surprisingly though, we are both to be in the same wing. Silence befalls us as we walk side by side, the huge golden candelabra I hold, lighting up the path as we walk.

I am desperate to enter my own chambers but for the sake of hospitality, I keep pace.

“I had heard of the Palais de Verre and its beauty. But nothing could have prepared me for this”

Was his voice just as raspy at dinner? I shiver and murmur a quiet hum in reply. He chuckles. It is a sudden noise but his voice is nice, I admit.

“Do you not speak, my dear lady? I remember you were quick to correct me at dinner” I know he is smirking without even looking at him.

“Of course I can speak!” in the silence of the halls, my voice seems too loud, too disjointed. I clear my throat.

The Prince doesn’t say anything for a long while, his eyes fixed more so on the portraits we pass. He stops at one painting, and I am rooted to my spot, unwilling to help him.

He looks down at me, and my! He is so tall! Smiling, he steps closer. I am about to flee, but to my surprise, he only holds my wrist and pulls my hand towards the portrait. The light falls on it, and he smiles. It is my very first portrait- from a year back. Monsieur Rainier had made it and got a very high commission. The Prince gazes at it, his brows frowning.

I clear my throat and try to pull away from my hand from his grasp.

“My Lord, we-”

“Rafael!” he interrupts me, smoldering black eyes fixated on mine.

“Wh.. What?” I did not just stammer!

He smiles a crooked smile.

“Call me Rafael”

I gulp. Here I was, the best fighter in the realm, timid in front of a Prince! I clear my throat once again.

“Ra... Rafael”

He does not smile, and this makes me frown. Is he upset?

Before I can say anything, his thumb strokes my brow. I am shocked. What was he doing?!

“You are such a bonnie lass” he declares, a faint accent detectable.

“I am betrothed!” I almost shout.

His face becomes blank immediately and after a second, he drops my hand. We stand paralyzed to the spot before he clears his throat, and motions for me to lead him again. I blink and then, I pull on my mask. It is unbecoming- the King’s Warrior of Jardin, being unhinged by a mere man.

We walk the rest of the way quietly, a couple foots’ distance between us. At his door, I wish his goodnight and after he closes his door, I run.

The next day, the King, my father, summons me from my swordsmanship practice and then commands me to take Rafael on a tour of the Palais. It is painful and awkward, not to say the least. The next week passes in a similar manner and it is I that does most of the talking, while Rafael just listens and stares. Oh and how he stares! It sets fire in my veins, a wild frenzy in my heart and I am a stammering, shy mess of a fool.

On the last day of the tour, we come across Raiford Mortis. He isn’t at all like Rafael and this-my mental assessment, or rather a comparison, of my betrothed with the Prince, shocks me. They talk politics and after a few minutes, we all bid goodbye- Raiford to prepare for some clash later tonight to subdue to rebels, and I and the Prince, to continue on with the tours.

Tonight, Rafael seems unhinged at dinner. Father and Mother are absent, having gone to Southampton in the north, two nights previous. I cannot help but be suspicious; Rafael does not eat properly and keeps looking at the watch on the mantelpiece. I decide to be extra cautious tonight.

And it is only right, for some time after the midnight chimes ring, I see the Prince’s door open and surely, it is his figure creeping silently in the shadows. I follow him and when we reach the stable, darting from the guards, I pounce. He is fast, I’ll give him that and it is only his sheer force, which overpowers me in the end. He harshly rips the black cloth I cover my face with, and to say he was shocked, would be the greatest understatement. His jaw visibly slackens, and I can’t help but goad him further.

“Not so clever now, are you?”

Rafael frowns and for a moment, I get lost in his black orbs.

“Where were you going?”

But Rafael is not a man you can force to answer you. He has his own terms. Finally, he shifts and stands up, before pulling me to my feet. I had been careless not to notice the huge black stallion he had by his side. He mounts it in one swift lunge and before I can comprehend it, he has lifted me up by the waist and settled me in front of him.

“Let’s see what the real situation out there is, why don’t we?” he ground out. His grasp on my waist is tight and I can feel the anger in him thrum behind me. This is scary and I can’t focus on anything like the wind whips at me; the facecloth had been ripped and thrown away.

We ride all the way to Siam, a district on the far edge. The sights we see make me want to gag. There are people on the streets- beggars, all of them, and men and women and children! There are so many children! Rafael slows down and climbs down. I’m in a daze and hardly know when he pulls me down. We walk about; the people hardly care- they’ve already given up on hope and everything else.

We reach a bend in the road and then suddenly, I’m yanked and pushed down. With one hand over my mouth, Rafael points with the other towards the corner. In the darkness, I cannot make out the men standing there. But one silhouette seems so familiar. I can hear their feverous whispers though, and so I concentrate on that.

“What now then?” one man asks, obviously the junior between the two.

“We enjoy now!”

My bones quake. That Raiford’s voice!

“Send the men either to the Guillotine or the salt mines up north. The children can learn to fend for themselves, although if there are any pretty lasses among them, sell them to the Madam of this district. The women, we take along with us.”

Laughing, they walk along. I sit there on my haunches in silence. I am shocked, to say the least. Is this what Raiford considers an expedition? A skirmish? This cruelty over the unfended poor people!

Rafael drags me up, for I am so cold and in shock, I am shivering. I can do nothing as he pulls me along, no matter how gentle. The walk to the creek where we had left Phillippe, the horse, is silent. Sometimes, I look back and see the darkness I am leaving behind. I wish I could have helped them. But I had only come at the right time to see the aftermath of this ‘skirmish’ for subjugation.

Rafael speaks, his voice echoing over the heart-wrenching silence.

“This is what your betrothed does every time he goes on an expedition, did you know?” he scoffs, his voice so very derisive.

I am ashamed, “But Father has to be informed!”

“The king knows! That bastard is the one who commands Raiford and the militia! Are you stupid?” he whispers vehemently.

In the dark, I cannot make out his features but I know how much hate must be there in his eyes. He hates me for being the King’s daughter. He hates me for being so ignorant. And most of all, he hates me for blindly believing in everything the King tells us.

I wonder how many more lies he has fed us. In this long while, I had never given a thought to the rebel group Red Clan and now, suddenly they are the only thing I can think of.

I twist as I look back up at Rafael, his powerful body so easily ensconcing mine atop his horse. “Tell me more”

“I’ll show you tomorrow again”

It sounds like a thinly veiled question as if Rafael is giving me a chance to back away- to become as ignorant as before and keep on irrationally believing in all my father and the General tattle to us. I square my shoulders and lift my chin.

“Very well.”

We do not talk for a while. The cool atmosphere seems at such odds against what we have just witnessed. I’m glad Rafael picks up the pace and starts to make the horse gallop faster. With the wind beating at my face, I can pretend that my tears are not shed.

It is about a mile from the palace when we slow down.

“I’m assuming the Red Clan is also not what they seem, are they?

We come to a sudden standstill, and I’m pushed back against his stiff body. “What do you know about the Red Clan?”

I take the reins from his hand and steer the horse now. “Only what the King has told us so far. That they are rebelling against us, killing and looting the people, and bombing the government’s buildings.”

His body is trembling. “They’re all lies!” he utters, his voice raspy with hate burning in his veins. I am not defending my father now, for I have seen the truth.

We have reached the stable, and a guard comes forward. I start but Rafael holds me to keep me from falling. I was wrong, the guard had just come to help us get down.

He says nothing as Rafael descends and then brings me down. But when I look back slightly from the doorway, I see that the guard is smiling.

Over the next few nights, we go on these journeys. It is always the aftermath, the consequences we see, and I think that maybe Rafael deliberately brings me to see them, to make me realize how powerless I have been so far. I cannot even help my own people. We distribute food and clothes to these people. They look at us with hate first, their pride coming in between, but hungry mouths have to be fed, and shivering bodies have to be clothed. We had not told them of our real identities, but one night, a man recognizes me and informs everyone. The people look at me with doubts clear in their eyes, but Rafael, dear old Rafael tells them how sad I was to see the truth. He warms them to me, and they name me the people’s princess. It is during these nights that I see what a wonderful man Rafael is. He is so kind and so brave and oh! I admire him so! It is also one of these nights when I see him helping the people when I realize with a start- I might like him! The fact that I am betrothed does not deter me, for Raiford disgusts me now.

I am shaking that night and to my utter dismay, I cry. No one apart from Mother possibly, and Mammy, has ever seen me cry. This is so unladylike! Rafael stops and pulls me into his arms. Oh, how right it seems!

“Shh darling, don’t cry” his voice is hoarse.

It only makes me cry harder- his gentleness, the sights I have seen, and my own utter helplessness! He pulls me closer and I disintegrate completely.

Perhaps he has never had a blubbering fool of a girl in his arms, and maybe that’s why he unmounts the horse, taking me with him. We settle down on a little bit of hay under a sycamore tree, and I’m leaning against him.

“What is it, darling?” the word of endearment which would have otherwise sounded like music to my ears, now makes me realize how stupid and childish I’m being. Does he pity me?

“It’s nothing!” I weep some more. When I am finally done, I look up at his face looming over me in the darkness. “I have been such a fool for all twenty years I’ve lived! I believed, without a doubt everything Father and that idiot Raiford told me!”

He chuckles. But I continue, “And all those people, Rafael! They have nowhere to live now, nowhere to go! What is going to happen? What can I do?

I clutch at his lapels desperately. “We have to do something Rafael! This cannot go on, I cannot allow it!”

Rafael grasps at my hands on his shirtfront. “We are darling,” his hands cup my face and draw me closer. “We are helping them; we transport them to Rison, where there is a lot of lands left empty. We are doing everything we can. Sometimes there are skirmishes we cannot avoid and unfortunately, your men die. But they deserve to die, dammit!” he says venomously.

“For doing this to the people, for raping the women and selling the children and killing the men, they deserve to be castrated, for God’s sake! And even that is not enough!”

 I had been silent so far, my mind processing everything he has just said. Rison and Jardin never had fought; we have always been allies. So wouldn’t a skirmish be reported back to us? And the fact that Rison was helping our people, without informing us; that seemed quite at odds with our alliance between us. Rafael! I start.

Rafael,

Raf-ael,

Raf-

Rafe!

Could it be, that this man, with eyes fervent with hope, and arms banded around me, be the Rafe we have heard of?

I lean back, “Who are you?”

Maybe he notices the way I’m looking at him now, or maybe he just realizes it. He sighs, and I notice his shoulders sag wearily as he hangs his head low. And his arms fall from around me.

“You know” he murmurs.

“Yes, I just realized now. You are Rafe! Of the Red clan! But tell me then. Where is the real Prince?” my voice is so calm, it surprises me.

“I am him too."

I take a deep breath and sigh.

“Did you think you would seduce me and make me fall in love with you? Just so I would bring you all the plans you need, of the territory?”

“No!” his denial is emphasized. I do not doubt him. But perhaps he mistakes my silence for disbelief, and take my hands, gripping them tightly in his.

“I have never intended that! This,” he motions between us, “Whatever this is that I have started to feel for you, was not planned, never! I... I never planned on seducing you!”

His expression is intense, and I know he deserves to know the truth. “I believe you.”

He does not let go of my hands and only stares for a long while as if trying to make out any lies. But I keep my face calm and he believes me.

It is long after that when we are again seated atop the horse, and trotting slowly.

“I’ve met you before.”

“I know.”

I almost fall off Phillippe, the horse in surprise. He rights me in front of him and then continues.

“There was a ball, a year ago, to celebrate your victory at the Battle of Lancashire. And you were wearing this deep green dress, which brought out the green in your eyes, and you were the most dazzling thing I had ever beheld.”

This man, I cannot believe he just made me blush!

“And you were in this black suit and yet, you stood out from the rest of the men.”

“If things hadn’t gone wrong, I would have tried to unmask you that night,” he whispers at my ear and a shiver runs down my back.

“Yes, well, I would have tried to do a lot more with you.”

He laughs at that and I am surprised before I smile too. His laughter is rich, the kind you can hear all day and still keep on smiling despite the ache in your cheeks. I’ve always been so aware of him, and his voice was music to my ears. But his laughter! Oh, how it undoes me!

That night, after we have entered the Palais through the back door, after handing over Phillippe to the guard, Rafe asks me.

“Why does that guard simper like a fool every time he takes Phillippe from us?”

“He assumes that we have a romantic liaison and that every night Raiford isn’t here, we are off to our midnight rendezvous.”

It only has the effect of making him smirk. Outside my door, where he bids me goodnight, we kiss. Finally. It is heated and passionate and later when I am in bed, I wonder what he thought of my wantonness.

At one, just as I am tossing and turning about, I remember that Father and Mother are to return on the morrow! This drives me to action.

Armed with the dagger Rafe has gifted me, I walk to the study. Outside, a guard stands. I had not anticipated this development.

“Princess,” he bows.

“Move aside, I have to enter.”

“I ask for your pardon, my lady, but apart from the General, no one is allowed to enter, in the King’s absence.”

I try to convince him and bribe him when it does not work. When I finally resort to physical methods, I am surprised for he does not think twice, to deter me. I fall down, not having expected the push. And I realize that there is only one thing I can do now.

It doesn’t even take a minute for me to kill him. And three more, to drag him inside and hide him behind the gigantic chaise in the corner.

It takes me a long hour though, to compile the plans and blueprints and maps that I know will help in this mission.

The door opens suddenly and I am at my defense at once! But it is all for naught. As the man comes forward into the moonlight, I see it is Rafe! I run to his arms.

“God, you shocked me!”

He smiles in my hair and I feel safe in those moments in his arms. A brief moment, and then I’m back to business.

“Come see if there’s anything more we shall need”

We work our way for the next few hours, always aware and jumping at the slightest of noises.

It’s been a while since the sun has risen, lighting up the entire study. Easier for us to work! Suddenly, we hear the trumpets blowing. Across the room, our eyes meet, panic clear in them. The king has officially entered the district. And unfortunately, the Palais de Verre and its surrounding gardens were its own district. We run from the room, and in the hallway, we encounter a group of five guards. They narrow their eyes, noticing the knapsacks on our back stuffed with pages of information that will help any enemy make us fall onto our knees. Then they draw their rapiers.

It is a bloody bloodbath. When it ends, I am shaking and Rafe holds my hand and drags me back to the wing. He quickly pushes me into the room and tells me to change into my most regal dress, with my trousers and fighting gear strapped underneath. I do just as he says, for when we have descended into the Central Hall we encounter the King and the Queen. Rafe bows and I curtesy. Behind my father, Raiford scowls, seeing the intimate way my hand has been placed in Rafe’s. But my father looks me in the eye and smiles, with an imperceptible nod. I know what he’s saying; he’s glad I’ve chosen Rafe, a prince so that the kingdoms can be merged. He assumes I have decided upon Rafe for political reasons. What he does not realize is that I love Rafe and not just the Prince of Rison. What the King also does not realize is that I hate my father. And that pretty soon, I shall be wiping off his reign of terror.

The King and the Queen tell us to meet them after an hour, but what they both do not know is that we shall be miles away by then. And what they do not know, will kill them.

We rush afterward, out of sight of the royal entourage. In the stable, Rafe mounts Phillippe and I mount Richard, both named after kings. After galloping at the fastest speed the horses could take us at, we are by the edge of the forest. There, we enter an abandoned shack, and Rafe helps me out of the heavy dress. As he pulls the strings at my back, Rafe kisses the part where my neck joins my shoulder and I shiver with delight.

“I wish we had more time, my love,” he murmurs against my skin.

“I wish as such, I do.”

We let ourselves a brief period of respite where we let go of the worries of the world and just love each other.

Later I give Rafe some of the weapons I had strapped across myself under that humongous dress, and he smiles grimly. It is not a pleasant fact knowing just why we might need these.

The journey to the border of Jardin takes us two days, even at the speed we take. We spend the nights in inns, wrapped around each other, letting our bodies talk. We give in to the fears and our loving is primal, almost desperate, for we did not know what the morrow shall bring. We catch snippets of information as we pass the villages, avoiding all the cities as much as possible. The princess has fled with the rebel prince- Rafael St. Clair. We have no idea how they found out this truth; we thought we had hidden it so well. Later though, we would know that they had mutilated it out of a man we once helped during the nights we sneaked out of the Palais. The princess had also been branded a traitor and ordered to be killed on sight under royal orders from the King and Queen. I was not surprised. Mother had always been father’s right-hand man, or rather, woman. Theirs was a love so selfish for their own benefits that Mother had never blinked when I was ordered to be whipped with the cat o’ nines, just because I had refused to go on an expedition up north to capture the Wildmen’s children. Rafe had been angered the first morning we woke up together when he saw my back and vowed to bring me justice one day when the time was right.

Rafe and I were lucky, for we heard that Jardin’s gates were closed just hours after we had escaped it. For all the King knew, we were still inside, and they would scour the whole domain trying to find us.

We reach Rison after traveling for another day, and then, thankfully, The Centre is just a few hours’ ride from the boundary. We are tired to our bones and are immediately led to the bedrooms. Unsurprisingly, my room has a connecting door to Rafe’s and he pulls me to his. We wash and dine, our stomachs growling, and then promptly fall asleep in his bed, the mattress made of down, a warm and welcome change after those nights spent on cots.

Rafe brings me to all of the meetings that are held in the next few days. And I find out that the border security has been strictly tightened since Jardin has declared war on Rison. It is not a surprise for me to find that Rison has been preparing extensively for this day for the past few years. The militia here are all bold men, brave and willing to help the people of a foreign land in trouble with their own tyrannical King. At first, the men ignore me outright and it is only after Rafe gives them a good talking to that they stop doing so. But as they see me in the fight pits, training along with Rafe and the other masters every day, they come to respect me as a warrior. As they see me plan the battles and help with the economy, they come to respect me as a general and a diplomat. As they see me help the common people, and stand beside Rafe and discuss things, they respect me as a kind woman, and perhaps even, as their Prince’s companion.

We spend a month in this manner, planning and reassessing our maneuvers and always looking for backup plans. We train hard, excessively to the point of extreme fatigue that when night rolls in, we can only dine and sleep. I do not feel that we have fallen apart, only that we are in the middle of a war and our priorities have changed. We have to think about winning the war rather than winning each other’s bodies.

I meet Lucien, Rafe’s brother, the King, who has auburn locks that look almost like my red. His eyes are though, the same black as Rafe’s and sometimes I feel like they are the saddest eyes I have ever seen. One day as we dine, I finally ask Rafe about Lucien.

“Rafe?”

“Yes?” he is busy chewing his food.

“What is with Lucien? Is everything alright?”

Rafe pauses and looks up. He puts down the chicken leg and wipes his hands and mouth. Then, after what feels like a million years, he finally speaks. 

“Lucien hasn’t had a kind past. He… he had a wife. Her name was Heather. She was killed by a group of men that wore Jardin’s royal insignia on their breastplate.

We do not talk after that. That night, as we finally go to sleep after the round of lovemaking, I wonder if the fact that I am from Jardin makes Lucien so prickly towards me.

The next days pass by in a whirlwind. The war is coming closer and we are expecting an attack any time soon. There are soldiers always covering the perimeter. And we are always expecting the worst.

This morning I am woken up by loud horns, and I shudder. I know what that means. The country must be under attack. Rafe and I dress up quickly and strapping on our weapons, descend on to the Royal Throne Room, where all the people have assembled. Lucien is speaking and I am in a daze, hearing but not quite registering the horrors he is reporting from the parchment in his hand. Jardin has attacked the city of Rothpar, a place Rafe and I had crossed to reach the capital of Rison, simply called The Centre.

The people were unaware and unprotected and Lucien is shaking with anger. He commands us all to prepare for war and we all disperse. All running to get our bearing the hold while trying to keep a sane mind.

I am given an army, as is Rafe. I am surprised to see even Lucien dressed for war; he shall be leading his own men too. We ride fast and hard to the boundary, where the terrain is hilly. From atop one of these hills, we see a vast Jardin army massacring innocents. And we flow down on them. Like an angry river devouring everything in its path, we rain down on the enemy with every intent of killing each one of them.

I do not know for how long I fight, even after my body no longer feels and my eyes do not run away from the blood. I am a bloodied mess by the time this battle ends, and it is torture. Bodies lie amass in the streets and the nearby valleys. I think I spot Raiford’s head rolling about a few feet from me. I walk up to it, spit on this face and then keep walking. I do not see Rafe but I know he is safe. I know, I tell myself again and again.

Lucien turns in the distance and perhaps he sees the way I am; he runs to me and supports me as I sag onto him. I am incredibly tired. I do not struggle as Lucien carries me in his lap as we gallop away. He even takes me up to the room Rafe and I had been sharing, to where the washing chamber is. He gently puts me down into the tub, and the water soon turns red. I stare ahead because no matter how much I had convinced myself otherwise, after all this time waiting for him, I realize the truth now. I hardly register Lucien wiping away the silent tears that I shed, and the way he strokes my cheek. After some time he leaves and the maids come and help me undress, and clean up properly, before leading me to the bed.

The emptiness punches me. I know I will never feel anyone in this bed, behind me, at night, when I am cold or want to be loved. Crying, unwilling to sleep, I just lie there. But the tiredness and the past few days’ hectic schedule catches up with me, and I fall into a deep sleep. 

When I enter the Throne Room the next day at noon, I am wearing a red dress so dark, it almost looks black when I move. There aren’t many people here, and yet, it is unavoidable- the looks of pity they bestow upon me. As I walk up to the steps that lead to the throne, Lucien regally stands up seeing me. He descends from the stairs and walks down to me.

“I am sorry,” he cannot look me in the eyes.

“It is not your fault,” because it isn’t. I know he feels like he is at fault for giving me and Rafe different armies to command. He feels like he has stolen our last moment together by separating us at a time when we needed to be together, for once. But I do not blame him. This is the way the world works.

“I have a request.”

“Anything!” Lucien’s voice is hoarse, he is willing to do anything. “Anything for you! I am so sorry,” he holds my hand and I finally crack. He has lost a brother too. I can see the way his eyes tear up. One rolls down and I wipe it away.

“We have to be strong. We have to go on. We have to help people. This is what he would have wanted.”

He squeezes my hands in his large ones and finally meets my eye. “Yes,” he whispers.

I smile and he smiles back. We are survivors now. A common loss binding us to each other- this relation is unbreakable, for Rafe’s memory is unforgettable.

“Lucien?”

He looks at me.

“I... I..”

“Tell me,” the King Lucien is back, in command and ever helpful.

“Can you please... move me to a different sleeping chamber? Another wing perhaps?”

He stares at me. This time I am unwilling to look into his eyes. I cannot show him how much Rafe’s death has shattered me. We need to be strong for each other.

“Of course. The East Wing is mine. There are a couple of sleeping chambers there too. Would you mind?”

“Of course not! Anywhere but Rafe’s room!”

Lucien nods silently.

He takes my hand and places it in the crook of his arm. Then, he walks up to the stairs again taking me with him. Behind the throne, we enter into the council room where the men have gathered. Perhaps they realized the private moment two bereaved hearts needed to console each other.

We gather around the table and start with the discussion. I put in my all. I tell them everything I know. And then we send the final message to Jardin, for the war. The final war. The war that ends it all.

When I am not sleeping or eating or helping the councilmen, I train. Lucien is there too, most of the time. I see him a lot now, and he’s changed. He’s kinder to me, no longer the man with the prickly disposition against the enemy’s daughter.

Two days later, we get the message from our spies. Jardin’s army has started for Wildmere, the vast unoccupied lands between our two kingdoms. Our fighting arena. Hours before we depart, Lucien finds me in the chapel lighting candles for our safe return. I jump and a few drops of molten wax drop on the sensitive skin where the thumb and the forefinger join.

I yelp and Lucien almost runs to me. He takes the candle from me and puts it aside before rubbing away the pain. With my hand ensconced in his, he leads me to the seat nearby where we remain as such, each one praying silently.

When we leave we are still holding hands, and outside my door, he briefly kisses my forehead before walking away. Does he look at me as his brother’s widow?

It is too early- not even light and no birds chirp as we move down the path that will lead us to Wildmere. Half of the army has already reached there and set up the tents and other necessary equipment. Lucien moves at the front along with his general and the rest. I am staring at his broad back, trying to imagine what Rafe might be saying had he been here today, when all of a sudden, he looks left and right, before turning back. As soon as he spots me he motions for me to join him at the front. This feels strange; I have never been at Rafe’s side when we were riding in public, or when we had been in the fight. There’s a lump in my throat and I cannot say anything.

This is how I reach the battlefield- with Lucien at my side.

“You will be the best queen Jardin has ever seen”

I am shocked. Honestly, I have not thought that far ahead- the war has been my main concern. I simply smile at him, and say, “I’m sure we’ll be the greatest of friends.”

He notices how I say ‘friends’ and not ‘allies’. His smile is genuine and bright and it’s like the sun has shone on me on this dreadful day.

Everyone prepares as best as they can for the war- we had not expected such great numbers in the enemy. Seems like the King of Jardin has called upon his other allies. And our people are afraid of seeing this vast number. I smile inward. I am going to defeat the Jardin army with my friends from Rison, and then be the greatest queen the realm has ever seen.

I have never seen a real war in my life before and I wish I never see another one again, after this. I kill people left and right, and I do not even feel remorse. All I can sense is the immense anger inside me, coming out in this terrifying way. I kill more men on this day than I have ever killed before. I sometimes see my men fall down and I try to protect and fight on their behalf as much as I can but I have to protect myself too. So I do my best. Lucien is always in sight. It’s like we fear that if we drift far away, we are going to lose each other just like we lost Rafe. I do not know how long we have been fighting for; my body feels too heavy now. I can see that my strikes have become haphazard and I need two punches where I once needed one. I can sense it, notice the desperation in Lucien’s eyes. We are falling back. Where are our allies? I fight on. I give my all. To avenge Rafe. The people. The women, the men, and the children, most of all. In the end, it is only these thoughts that keep me going. I am about to fall when we hear the Rosamunde Horn. Oh! Help has come at last!

I look around, and I spot Lucien immediately. His face is bright as if he too has just registered the fact that we are less no more. And he smiles at me, and I smile back, across the mass of dead bodies, our faces grimy with dirt and blood. Our allies join in the fight, and it is another two hours before the war ends and I am at my father’s tent.

Without warning, he swipes at me with his rapier and I jump back. He did not once want to hold back- I was his daughter! With renewed vigor, I fight him. Nearby, I sense fire. We have lit the tent somehow. Outside the screams and grunts wreck the air.

I see Lucien when I finally emerge from the tent, my body tight with pain. I have killed him. I have killed my father. We have won the war! I laugh hysterically as Lucien holds me close. I laugh and laugh until I feel the blackness gathering in and I fall victim to it.

When I wake up I am given the news that after I killed my father, the Queen took her own life. I do not say anything in response, my own battle wounds far too grave, and I fall asleep again. I am always half in and half out. I cannot make out the difference between dreams and reality. I see different faces each time, and yet, there is this one face that is permanent. I can never grasp it. But it is familiar, I know.

They tell me I took a week to completely recover, and when I am well I wake up to ceremonies to coronate the new queen of Jardin. I am overwhelmed. I do not realize much, sleeping most of the time in my carriage on the journey to the Palais de Verre. Lucien has come with me too. The roads we take are filled with people- all rejoicing for their new ruler. It seems the nights I spent with Rafe in these streets did all the exposure I needed to gain popularity. People seemed to be telling stories of the kind people’s princess, and I could see the evident happiness.

At the coronation ceremony, Lucien was present and so were the good men who had been under my father. I had organized a new council with the men I knew and trusted with help from Lucien. We also signed the new alliance terms and I was sure that both our economies would flourish in a very short amount of time. As the days pass and winter approaches, I realize that Lucien will be leaving soon and try to spend every moment that I can, with him. He and I have grown close. One day I tell him that I sometimes find it difficult to recall Rafe’s face and that I felt so guilty for it. He assures me that it is alright and that he does not think any less of me for it. We talk and talk and become so addicted to each other’s company that the night before he leaves, I am weeping.

“I shall be back soon, my queen. Hush now, do not cry” he says cradling me against his chest.

So we just hold hands and stargaze. And I kiss him goodbye, for I know that I shall not meet him at any cost tomorrow morning.

It is an early hour when he leaves and I watch his entourage moving away from my Palais. He turns back and looks up as if realizing I will be there. And when our eyes meet, I have the uncomfortable feeling of being bereft and left void. I do not know what I will do now that Lucien is gone. I lift up my hand in salutation, and he smiles. It is a sad smile, I can make out that it does not reach his eyes. He looks forward after that infinitesimal second and I sink down.

“Next year,” I tell myself, gulping. “We will be meeting again next year.”

I stand up and square my shoulders. It doesn’t do for the Queen of Jardin to be weak. I have to be strong for my people. And that is the thought that resonates in my mind as I walk into the throne room and sit down upon my gilded seat.

“For my people, because I am now, Jardin’s hope”

THE END.