I lay down amongest my satin pillows and the empty wine jugs I had obtained before the slow gleam of the morning sun. I felt a drunk, haze fall through my shoulders----a haze I was not a stranger to. It would be bordering my senses for a fragment of time. My resilience towards the liquid might bring about my callapse. I sat forth and heaved a jug towards the bed post, fatefully feeling the warm faze slowly dwindle away from me. The jug burst into an array of clay peices that swelted my bed coverings and clinked against the cold stone floor.
I stared at a larger piece that gave the indication that it would fit into my palm. I wondered how it would feel if I were to drift the acute angle across my forearm. Hot, swelting tears formed at my eyelids as my intoxicated facade seemed to keep dripping away----leaving me with a bare, unwelcoming nothingness.This felt like the summer of my twelve year, the first I ever attained the taste for alcohol. The memory of that summer resignated a feeling of abandonment that I had thought, as a man, I had relinquished. I was foolish to have assumed that.
My breaths became short-lived as I shoved my face into my hands, sniffling and weeping like I was twelve again. 'Twas not enough, I still felt chilled and indifferent---diffident. I....I had just wished so long that they knew who I was. But now that I could truly comprehend how dispising I was to them....I had not the courage to leave. If I had learned one thing from mother, I knew my life depended on how they percieved me. It was traditonal, as a royal, to have various attempts on our lives. Since the day I emerged into this world, I have indeed been wanted dead---if it weren't by poison, then by knife. I could not count how many lives had been taken in my place.
Money, alcohol, bastard....sex. That was all I was.
"Prince Alexander."
"Damn!" I set forth to look into the soft, brown eyes of my Corinthian lover---Ferra. She was the only soul who I have allowed into my chamber for days. She stared at me a moment, a worried look contorting her smooth features before she set the tray of food upon the bed. I knew what she wanted, and it was within my power domain to give it to her. I was a greedy bastard for keeping her expectant. Though childish, I did not want to give in.
There was a brief moment fo silence, the only silence I had had with another soul present. But the prosperity was immediately rushed away as an array of loud, blistering thoughts needled away into my brain.
I wonder what has made his magesty so apprehensive.
Why has he shut himself away?
What happened when he went to see the oracle?
Has he forsaken me?
Why does he not sleep with me? Am I too old?
I have done something wrong, haven't I?
This is so frustrating!
My mother would be disappointed!
Am I to be cast away? Sent to a whore-house?
He does not sleep with me! I am too old! Someone else will take my place!
I will never see my family again!
My hands shook as I looked away, knowing in the pits of my being that I should not ignore what has been said.
"You're magesty. If I may....." She brushed a blonde curl behind her ear and glanced away from my sorry mayhem. "That woman....Baani."
I looked at her, expectant. Aiy. So....they have....aquainted themselves.
She paused, noting my silence before continuing. "She has been.....imprisoned."
I did not know that. "And?"
She faultered, but said nothing.
I watched her, waiting for the flood of thoughts to make their way to me.
Why does he not care? A responsibility by the Goddess Eris was passed down to her.
If she is executed, our world will fall victim to terror. It is not a great thing to have a pact with the Goddess of Discord.....however, to not do what she says.....
She told me about The Truth. If you were granted it.....how could it have been for nothing?
Aiy.....Baani seems to run her lips to anyone it seems.
"You may leave."
Fera gave me a surprised look. "But-----"
"Leave." I glanced at the tray filled with stuffed cabbage----sarma, a bowl of Turlitava and bread. Three of my favorite dishes. I grabbed the wine jug from the tray and waved my hand away. "I do not want this."
"Yes....."
I watched as she collected the food and turned to leave the room. Sighing, I glanced towards the balcony, the warm summer-night air flowing through the curtains. I tipped the jug to my lips and watched the moon at it shown through the slow, windswept drapes. I felt that I was indeed the most despicable. Though with this information....my only wish was to wallow in it.
"Alexander."
I stood forth again as my mother made her way into the room. "Mothe-----?"
Without hesitation, her hand was brought down harshly against my cheek. "Why are you here?! Half the capital has been washed away by a flood!"
I blinked away my tears of surprise and glanced away.
Almost imemdiately, she gripped my face and her demeanor seemed to change. "Oh, my son...."
She pressed her lips against mine and and turned her head to wrap her gracile arms around me. "I know this has not been easy, however, in order to secure you're place----"
"I know." I grunted. It was so blatantly discernible.
Her hands tightened around my elbows as she regained her strict composure. "I want to see you there tomorrow. Do not disappoint me."
I stared into her eyes, searching for any hint of forgiveness or emotion----I would even settle with the idea of sympathy, but there was none. I had no choice but to look away. "Okay."
She coddled my cheek and gave a faint smile before turning to leave. Not long after, a coil of thoughts made their way to me. Thoughts that I knew I would dread hearing.
Why was this great power passed to this peasant woman instead of my son?
Have the gods deemed him incompentent?
He is the only thing I have over these women. They are cursed with only having daughters!
I did not raise him to be a crying, blumbering lunatic!
Goodness! He must change! The people doubt us!
Why is he so like his father!