Something With a Prince

Chapter One: Death of A Royal

Tallethea

"The Crown Prince is dead!"

The market was bustling more than usual, and everyone was talking about Old Gozzy's newest rumor. He was jumping from step to step and flapping his arms like a chicken after leaping off its coop. His patchy beard and long white hair floated into the faces of those who passed by as he pleaded with them to listen.

"Please, hear me! The Crown Prince is dead!" He exasperated, grabbing a man by his shirt, and crashing hard onto his knobby knees, "We're all doomed! Don't you see?"

The man detached Gozzy's hands from his shirt, brushed off the dirt the old man's fingers had left behind, and nonchalantly tossed two coins over Gozzy's head, "Here you are, Goz."

Gozzy wailed, rearing up his head, "No! I don't want money. I want you to listen."

I had approached the meat stand just in time to witness a castle guard approach Gozzy and pull him up by his arm. The strap of his shirt, which was just a very long nightshirt, fell off his shoulder as Gozzy frantically spoke to the guard. However, the Guard just nodded his head and spoke kindly and quietly to the old man.

"Poor thing is going faster than a lit candle in a windstorm," Mrs. Dragerty clicked her tongue.

I watched Gozzy a moment more, taking in his pleated face, stick-thin limbs, and watery blue eyes. His hands shook, so he couldn't do any work, but the town had somewhat agreed that he was never to be harmed or mistreated. We looked out for poor old Gozzy here. In fact, a few of the guards gave him the affectionate nickname Gozzy because he would always show up with some sort of bandage around his head or arm after claiming he found gold or mythical creatures.

Gozzy had been pushing rumors and stories since I was learning to walk. Grand tales about fallen angels, haunted woods, and trees that turn into people at night. One of my mother's favorite stories about my childhood involves Gozzy.

One afternoon, when he was a little healthier and had not let his mind go so much, Mama found me dancing around Gozzy while he hit a tambourine against his knee. I remember him having darker hair then, but his eyes have always been the same. A shallow and watered-down blue that was dimmed by the pink of his outer eyes. Always sleepless, and afraid of the next vision. I think music helped him calm the noise in his head. He told Mama that I was destined to be a warrior for the crown, and though I had spirit, I should not dance if I could help it.

Of course, Mama laughed, and because she laughed, I laughed, but after hearing those words spoken so many times around dinner tables I guess something lodged in my mind. I have been training to join the King's Military since I could hold a sword. It was just last spring that I graduated from the academy and was officially inducted into the King's army.

"Do you ever wonder if we're the wrong ones?" I spoke to Mrs. Dragerty, passing over some coins in return for two rabbits and a pheasant.

Mrs. Dragerty pursed her lips, her eyes dancing with a funny look, "Now Thea, don't go telling me you believe Gozzy's superstitions?" Her hands moved as if they were sentient, wrapping and tagging systematically all while she was cocking a thin eyebrow at me.

"I didn't say that." I embraced the smile that had been pushing against my lips. "What a shock the Crown Prince will have when he hears of his own death."

She kept her smile to herself, but I could tell it was there. She tucked a sprig of rosemary under one of the strings holding the wrapping together and patted my hand. "Tell your Mama hello for me when you see her. I never get to talk to Rosemary anymore."

I nodded, picking up the packaged game, "Castles are pretty hard to keep clean. I hardly see her these days."

"Well, so long as she's done raising those boys, I suppose she's got to find something more to occupy her." Her eyes fell to her hands, and with a restricted sigh she shook her head. "You'd think a daughter and good friends would be enough to keep her."

"She's busy, that's all. But I know she would love to see you if she could, Maeve. I don't like anyone, and I love to see you."

A small flush bit at her cheeks and she swatted me away with a towel, "Get on out of here girl. Don't you have boots to shine or something?"

I hooked the meat under my arm and saluted her before walking toward the outskirts of the market. Everyone had settled back down into the daily routine of things, and Gozzy's rumor had dissipated into laughter. Several children were running around his legs by the fish stand, thoroughly distracting the old man from his bugling. He began singing a folk song to them, clapping his hands, and laughing as they made up dances. Because of Gozzy, the market always had that kind of energy, a sort of life and youthfulness to it. Each stand was unique to its corner, and on my way out, I admired the way our little village had its own life despite being placed so close to the Castle.

We felt protected by those giant spires and moody, grey bricks. Flowers bloomed at the feet of its gate in white and yellow patches as dark green ivy stretched endlessly up the outer walls. Towers scraped the heavens and despite its gloomy colors and wet cobblestone floors, its shadow never passed over us like a lord, but like a guardian. Inside the palace gates were where traders set up stands from all over the world to present new wonders to the Queen. Everyone loved her, but due to her reserved temperament, nobody really knew her.She had an affinity for the new and future-oriented, anything that could promise prosperity or peace. Therefore, the Castle gates were a honey trap for inventors and swindlers alike. After his Majesty King James died, she kept things in order as acting Regent. That is until the Crown Prince, Arlyn, could take the throne of course.

I met the Queen once, and it was on Arlyn's tenth birthday. I was only eight at the time and had a limited concept as to what royalty was. All I knew was that my mother worked for the Queen and I was given two playmates on weekdays. But encountering her once was enough to know that the Queen of Tuisedor was someone magnificent. I can recall that fleeting moment when she walked into Arlyn's room to wish him a happy birthday. Queen Audessy's hair was smoothed back and the finest color of brown I had ever seen, like the shade of a spring doe. There was a golden undertone to her gentle brown skin, as if softly lit from inside by the sun, which brought out the embroidered lines of her dress and the stately ring of her crown. That dress. I will never forget the color of her dress--- like peering into the deepest, velvety, part of the forest. Tuisedor green. And she had the kindest hazel eyes, framed by stately features and thin eyebrows. They passed over me briefly before she knelt by Arlyn, and kissed his forehead.

"Happy birthday, my son."

That's when she turned around and stretched out her hand to me. Hypnotized by her presence, I stepped closer, and she guided me by the shoulder over to her. I can still remember how she smelled of fresh parchment and lavender, and how she tucked hair behind my ear before gracing me with a smile, "You must be Tallethea."

I nodded, too star struck to speak.

She extended her gaze back to Arlyn, "Don't forget to include your brother. He's in the nursery."

Then, we both nodded and watched as she left the room in all her wonder.

I sometimes question if I had imagined it. After all the years I spent in the castle with Arlyn and Mama, not once did I get to see her again. At least, not like that. Perhaps it was because the King fell sick soon after that birthday or because she thought it lowly to converse with an eight-year-old that never brushed her hair, but memories of that time seem to blur together.

I forced myself to recall a moment when I had talked to the Queen or even saw her in passing before that moment, but nothing seemed to come up. By the time I had reached home, my head felt dizzy, and I had a hard time collecting my thoughts at all. That was until I saw the rows of horses blocking my front door.