Endless Winter - 5

ROYAL SORROWS

I pulled the reins of my horse absent mindedly. That girl's- Wildflower's shrieks of laughter still rang in my ears. That mirthless laugh could make any stone melt. I was just a Messenger, what words could I say to console her? There were no tears to wipe and even if they were, I don't think I would have done anything...

For three years I had been a bridge between those two loving souls. I was one of the oldest and the most trusted men of the Prince and hence his obvious choice to carry his letters to his lady love and bring back hers. The noticeable restlessness and longing in their eyes every time I brought a message, the beating of their hearts almost tangible, the eager smile they tried to hide in vain... That would just make me pray to my Gods to unite the souls as soon as possible.

Duty. Conveying the message was my duty. Conveying only what had been written, the unwritten things lay in a secret emotional corner of my heart. They were not supposed to be revealed.

With heavy heart I made a beeline to the Prince's Castle as ordered.

The castle was semi-dark, the pale twilight bathing it in unusual gloom. A silver plate laden with the delicacies from the Royal kitchen was untouched. The Prince was still in his morning clothes, pacing restlessly with his hands at the back. His proud head was bent tonight, sans his crown that lay abandoned in a corner, his handsome face was hidden in the creepy light of a single lamp that flickered unsteadily.

He heard my footsteps and before I could even follow niceties like bowing before him, he hurried towards me.

"How is she?" he asked eagerly in a slightly shaky voice.

I had no good answer for the question.

"She doesn't seem fine, My Lord." I briefed him.

"Was she..." he asked, suddenly stopped, cleared his throat and continued, "Was she crying a lot?"

All his questions were tough. Given a choice I wouldn't have answered any of them.

"She laughed."
"Laughed?" he asked, bewildered.

"Inconsolable, My Lord. She just laughed uncontrollably." I said quietly, staring at him to read his face.

His face turned darker. He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. He muttered something incoherently, indistinctly as if he was talking to himself. For a moment I remembered a maniac that wandered everywhere back at my home in the lanes away from the Palace.

He might have forgotten I was still there. He slumped into an armchair helplessly. Slowly he picked up a silk pocket from a wooden box and offered it to me. The coins clinked oddly in the silence.

"Your prize. I am grateful." he said in a defeated voice.

I looked at that thick pocket full of gold. Today's had been the toughest assignment I had ever had. I was drained. The shrieks of laughter at the Forest and the deadly silence in the Palace... I hated my job.

"I do not want prize tonight, My Lord." I said bowing before him respectfully.

"Why! It's yours!" he said weakly.

The silk of his sleeve shone slightly and an amethyst in his ring sent pale violet rays of light on his grave face.

"No, My Lord, " I said with tight jaw, "I have grown old with the woman I love. Today, My Lord, I feel richer than ever."

He turned his gaze up at me and I got a full view of his dimly lit face. Guilt, grief and defeat filled every line of that face.

In forty-five years of my service in the Palace, for the first time I witnessed the teardrops of a Royalty.

- To be Continued...