Sophie found it very strange to enter the castle through a window, though she agreed that it was better than the stairs. A starlite meeting room was not thought of when the castle was built. Sophie wished that some one had thought about it and that she had a proper door to enter instead of the window.
The only furniture in the room was a cupboard, a table and two chairs. The prince was standing on the other side of the table with his back to her. She again pondered on the peculiarity that unlike the empress, the prince never had any servants waiting on him.
"Your Highness," she said to aware him of her presence and saluted.
"So, Commander Antofurota," Neal turned; a smile played on his face. "You must not be at a loss in guessing why I called you here."
Sophie knew that it was about a promotion but she did not want to sound presumptuous.
"Please sit," he said when he got no answer from her.
He took his seat opposite to her and Sophie observed the customary tea-tray on the table.
"Everyone among the guardians knows that Colonel Hossier will be retiring in a few months' time. And you have been named by him as his successor."
Sophie's face lit up. "It would be an honour."
"Finally." He smashed his palm on the table. "Excuse me, but I have offered many others this job and have been refused repeatedly." Seeing that Sophie was not that happy about his confession, he said, "This calls for a celebration."
The prince got up and opened the cabinet behind him. He placed two glasses on the table and poured red wine in them.
"This shows how little I know about my guardians," he said toying with the glass in his hand.
Sophie looked at him. Something was wrong. But she couldn't pinpoint it. He looked the same, talked the same, smelled the same, but something about the prince was off.
"Duke, Qureshi, Poles and Roberts," he said, "I talked to four guys and they said no. The first person Hossier names are ready to take the job."
Sophie took a big sip from the glass. She was grossly uncomfortable for some reason. "Any more people to say no to the job couldn't have been left."
"I guess that's true." Sophie felt that the prince's mind was not in the conversation. His head was somewhere else. She wondered if there was another important matter bothering him.
The prince got up and started pacing the room. He kept tapping his right hand fingers on the back of his left hand.
"I've been thinking," he said. "Starlites and humans are not that different."
"I suppose we aren't." Her eyes narrowed at the sudden introduction of the subject. The prince seemed to want a starlite's advice or point of view. "I did dress up as an human and nobody was any wiser," she reminded him.
"Still we live in completely different worlds."
"It's the cultural gap." Sophie said in a matter-of-fact tone, "It all comes down to the three things." She raised three fingers. "We can fly." She closed one finger. "We have no problem breathing on high altitudes." Another finger closed. "And then there's love," she said closing her hand.
"Yes, love," Neal said breaking his pace. He turned to look at her. "This love thing is strange. It is just a feeling. Like every other emotion you feel- hate, envy, happiness."
"Yes, we do feel every emotion but love." Sophie agreed.
"This is strange," the prince said from behind her chair. "Why do starlites marry?"
"Because it's the law," Sophie informed him. "We have to get married before our twenty fifth natal day." She turned around to face him.
"So would you still marry if this law was absent?" he asked, looking intently in her eyes.
"Yes, I would," she replied and thought, "By Star, this is the strangest job interview ever. Are all women asked their plans for marriage before a promotion?"
"Why?"
"Companionship, I guess," Sophie said. "Children, maybe."
"So, if a human could provide all these, would you marry him?"
Sophie had just taken a sip from her glass and it took all her self will to keep the wine in side her mouth. "Of course not." Inter-species marriage was not frowned upon, only because nobody had the audacity to even think about it. "Humans m-marry for l-love," she stammered.
"Not all," he said. "My father was in love with another, all his life. And my mother never loved him."
"I never knew my parents. I'm sure that they did not love each other. But they did not have this threat looming over their head, of falling in love with another."
"Nor did my parents," Neal muttered. He slowly walked towards his chair and sat down.
"It is one thing when the humans are not in love," Sophie said. "But it is another thing for a human to know that he can never fall in love with his or her spouse."
"You have to feel something." Sophie thought that she detected pain in the voice but she quickly inclined towards frustration. "For instance," he said in a calm manner, "what would you feel if I kiss you?"
Sophie wondered if she should fly out of the window. Instead, she decided to try humor. "Desire to kick you where it hurts?"
"I mean with permission." Neal stood his ground.
"Starlites feel that. It's called lust."
"Yes." He nodded. "Lust without love. Humans do that sometimes."
Neal closed his eyes and went into a deep reverie. Sophie did not know what was happening. She nervously took another sip of the red wine, emptying her glass. The glass in his hand was full. Yet she wondered if he was drunk.
"How do you know?" Neal opened his eyes and said, "That it is not love that you feel?"
"How do you know that it is love that you feel?" Sophie countered.
"How do we know?" he smiled. "You can't stop thinking about a person. You want to see them, talk to them, be near them; every chance you get. You smile every time you think of them. Sometimes, you have a weird feeling here." He pointed to his chest. "It pains you to see them with someone else. Has it ever happened to you, Commander?"
"Can't say that it has. But Your Highness seems to be talking from experience." If the prince was in love, it would explain his behavior. She had heard humans did strange things when they fell in love. But the reason the prince was telling her all that was lost on her. "Perhaps he has no other," she thought.
"Have you ever been stabbed in the heart?" Neal asked instead.
"Fortunately, no."
"Do you know how you will feel if I took a knife and stabbed you in the heart?" Neal stood up and made a stabbing gesture towards her.
"Pain, I imagine, and fear," she said. "Fear of death."
"See, we can imagine things without experiencing them," he said in triumph.
"I suppose." Sophie was not convinced.
"Now instead of stabbing," Neal said slowly, "imagine loving someone."
"I can't. I don't know what to imagine." Sophie stood up. She eyed the window wondering if she should escape.
Neal emptied his wine glass in one gulp. "Okay," he said crossing the table once again. "Look into my eyes."
She humoured him.
"What do you feel?"
"Your eyes have golden specks in the dark irises."
"That's what you see. What do you feel?"
"I feel like this is pointless," Sophie said. She was feeling uneasy.
Neal grabbed her by the hand and dragged her towards the empty space in the middle of the room. Her head starting spinning.
"Remember the ball," he said. His voice had a sense of urgency to it. It was a demand as well as a plea.
He moved her as he had at their first ball. Sophie remembered floating. "Remember us dancing at the ball. What did you feel?"
"I feel dizzy," she answered honestly. He stopped twirling her.
"Remember the nisiman game?" The urgency, the demand, the plea, had a hint of hope in it.
"I lost."
"What did you feel then? Remember the day I made the painting."
Sophie closed her eyes. "It smelled nice," she said.
"What did it smell like?"
"Just like this."
"Like what?"
"You," she muttered. It was both a question and an answer.
"Remember the tournament. Remember Princess Marya."
Sophie's stomach churned. "I hated her."
"Why?"
Sophie felt like her brain would explode. Why was he talking like that? Why were they still dancing?
He asked again, "Why did you hate her?"
"I don't know," she cried. She wanted to be away. She wanted to go sleep in her bed.
"Why did you say no to Wilson Williams?"
She gasped as a thin ray of consciousness hit her. "How do you know that?"
"I know everything, Sophia." Neal smiled. Everything was wrong with that smile. "It's you who needs to know."
Sophie could not say anything. She opened her mouth but no sound came out. Her vocal cords felt paralyzed. They were standing still but she felt dizzy. His hands were still on her shoulders. Her body shivered. He cupped her face. Her body froze, sweating at the same time. She couldn't breathe. He moved closer to her. Her heart raced as if about to fail. She could feel his breath on her cheeks. All the blood in her body rushed up.
His lips didn't touch her; instead, they whispered in her ear, "I'm in love with you, Sophia..."
Her ears didn't hear the words; instead, her mouth vomited warm red liquid all over him. She fell into his arms, her body limp and eyes closed.