The Emotions Within

Flattery

The sun shone, its blue light scattered in the air to produce the beautiful clear sky, but she did not notice any of that. Not the sweet scent of flowers, or the birds singing, or the calming water in the fountain. Nothing could soothe her in the same magnitude as the music the previous night. She was far from even a bit sense of comfort.

The foreign prince continued to ramble on about his own country in the plains. Taking a break from the tour, she, with the prince, sat on a bench. She was tired to listen to another word he said. She knew about the vastness of the plains, how developed their agriculture was, how beautiful the silks and textiles woven by the artisans, she knew about it all.

However, she had to maintain eye contact, and smile occasionally as part of etiquette. She could understand the pride everyone held for their motherland and the feelings it aroused, but that doesn't mean that one should slap it in the face of everyone. The prince was actually a nice person, but if he continues to talk about the plains once more, she would lose it.

"I've told you enough about my country," he finally said. "I am interested to learn about yours. These botanical gardens are just..." He had no more words to express how the tufts of orchids and roses pleased his eyes.

"Beautiful," she completed, smiling at the acknowledgment. "The Khasi Hills, Ri Khasi, we call it, is a place God, our Creator has given to us. It is our home, and we respect and nurture it, for it is a gift from God."

"Yes, so I've noticed," the Indian prince remarked. "The hills and valleys are just a sight to behold and the weather is extremely pleasant. It rightfully is the place of gods."

"I am thankful of your praise." She bowed slightly. He nodded and stood up.

"Well then," he said, "Let us move on with the tour."

•

Throughout the day, she led the prince, along with his bodyguards around the town. The kingdom consisted of small villages — about ten to twenty houses — that were far spaced, separated by huge forests. Its capital was the center trading town in the hills. It was normal to see foreigners in its streets.

She herself had not stepped out of the palace for some time that was the reason why she chose to guide this prince. How the people and the land could change in such a short time. The increasing slums made her grimace and she blamed it on the immigrants. At the same time, she can't be so hard on them; they were just searching refuge, weren't they?

"This is an interesting market." Her chaperone observed the place with an interested mind. "In our state, there would usually be more textiles than crafts. However, the markets in yours are considerably cleaner, which is odd."

"The Khasis bathe before they head outside," she explained with a blank voice. "We respect the environment and nature, we strife to make it cleaner."

This odd habit would soon be extinct with the arrival with the British but that would be a talk for what will happen in hundreds of years. In the present, the markets have been dirtied with sewer water and garbage, which is sad. The green is still present but the clean was gone.

The queen wished evening would arrive sooner. The notes of the song still played in her mind, over and over. She could not get them out of her head. At least she would be able to past the time with this prince.

"I see," he replied to her earlier comment, smiling. "That is what makes this land beautiful, just like you, my lady."

"Th-thank you, your highness." She awkwardly accepted the unexpecting compliment. She kept her head down to hide her flustered state, unaware that the prince had closed the distance between them.

"You've mentioned that you haven't seen your king for a while."

"Yes," she replied, shivering when he felt his hand on her shoulder. "He... I..."

"He told me that he will return to his country in a few months." He leaned closer, intertwining his hand in hers. She only stared at him, questioning his motives. "That's a long time, isn't it?"

"Your highness..."

"What is it, my lady?" He raised her chin to face him.

"I'm sorry, I suddenly feel uncomfortable." She stepped backward and held her hands close to herself. The prince released his hand and did the same, looking at her with longing eyes. "I thank you for the information. Tell him that we'll be looking forward to his return."

He seemed to ignore what she said and stepped closer. He reached out his hand, and brushed her hair behind her ears. "My lady, none of the women in our country can compare to your beauty."

She gasped as her ears turned red. She hated this; the fact that she liked the male attention. Thoughts on what she should do raced through her mind. The only thing that came up in her mind was to increase distance. She looked at those dark brown eyes with fear and flinched when the dark-skinned hand came closer.

Before he could come in contact with her, he was interrupted. Pushed back slightly, he became annoyed and glared at the poor beggar who stepped between him and her. The queen heaved a sigh; at least an embarrassing conflict was avoided. She was thankful for this humble man clothed in rags, but also felt humiliated. She was rescued... by a beggar out of all people.

"Excuse me," the prince huffed.

The man ignored his words and continued on mumbling to himself, seeming like a retard. After a long minute of standing still and staring at the ground, he finally moved from his place. His feet dragged, as if his burden was too heavy, when the only thing he had was a walking stick.

"I never knew citizens of your kingdom were this rude," he angrily grunted.

"All of them aren't. Everybody else respected you, except him," she spoke, having composed herself. She still haven't let what had happened pass, but she must maintain formality. Although she felt insulted by his condescending tone towards her citizens. "He is the outcast of our kingdom, u Manik Raitong. Please do not associate the entire kingdom with him."

"Outcast?"

"He has always been like that," she replied, with a grimace. She regarded him as useless, and she was not the only one who thought so. "No one knows the cause. All he does is roam around in those rags and mumble nonsense."

"How sad," he commented and faced her, bowing low. "I am sorry, for what happened. I was overwhelmed. Please accept my apology."

"Yes." Was all she said, keeping her gaze on one hill where she spent the previous night. It was almost evening, she wanted to hurry to that place.

Later that day, the prince departed to his home country. She was relieved that he left, at least she would have no more trouble. Her thoughts went back to that incident and she grimaced. Thankfully, he had come just in time. She knew that u Raitong had the reputation to involve himself with anybody. He would be too immersed in his self pity and unintentionally interrupt just anyone. 

In that moment, the music started once more. It sounded mystical as always and it lightened up her mood. The prince did say that the king would return in a few months and she looked forward to the end of these months. It gave her hope.

And who was the mystery-person that played such melodic tunes? Was it even a person?

****

“Mine eye is consumed because of grief; it waxeth old because of all mine enemies.” (Psalms 6:7)

*camera pans to the author*

Author: I don't think we need an A/N  for this chapter... Oh wait I do.

This story is in no way racist to anyone, people are different. It's just some individuals, not their entire race.