The Book of Days: Reign of Darkness

VI: Aftermath

   When I was very young, my father was a member of the royal cabinet. Because of this Kristen had been a fixture in my early life. While the adults convened on matters from border security to tax rates, we had run around the palace together getting up to all sorts of mischief.

  More than once we could have been found sneaking into the palace kitchens, where the head cook, Romilda Spatz, had just set out a fresh tray of raspberry tarts. For a time we thought ourselves invincible, and Mrs. Spatz was left scratching her head about two tarts that seemed to magically disappear from every batch of twelve.

  But once she had got a mind to catch us, she proved that we had never really been smarter than she. I'll never forget the day she dragged us by our necks before Kristen's father, King James, demanding we be punished. Naturally, the price of theft was a hand. But the king would have none of it. He thought such a punishment far too morbid to impose on children so young as we, and even went so far as to insinuate that Mrs. Spatz looked as though she "could do with fewer tarts anyway."

  The which when he had said, she dropped us, heaving a great sigh, and went away swearing. And then he told us with a laugh that there were far worse things than a few stolen tarts. Not that we weren't punished, of course. He thought it greatly fitting that we help make the tarts (which isn't as fun as it sounds when overseen by the very person from whom you stole them) and then not get any for a week. We learned our lesson, and needless to say Mrs. Spatz was much happier than if we'd each lost a hand.

  That was the wonderful thing about Kristen's father. He was never high-handed with his punishments, but they were always wisely meted and invariably effective. And he valued nothing above a good laugh. He had a zero-tolerance policy on childish mischief, but never forgot what it was to be a child, either.

  But when we were still very young, he passed away of a terrible illness. I was never told what it was. But however it happened, all agreed that we had lost a singularly wise, just king.

  That was when my dad moved out to Ranha from the woods and took up the farm. He resigned his position in the royal cabinet, saying that the death of the king had stolen away his appetite for life in court. And so it was that Kristen and I were parted. But we had promised never to forget one another.

  I had never imagined in all that time that it was leading to-- whatever had just happened. More fool me, perhaps, for not having seen that sparkle in her eyes that she reserved only for me. And it wasn't that I didn't love her--er, like her-- but somehow, knowing that she already had decided that I must be her future husband.... well, honestly, it was a little stifling.

  She was the only girl I'd ever really known, but that was just it. I wanted to explore my options. Maybe that sounds bad, but hey-- it didn't seem like much of a choice if I didn't play the field a little.

  You might think it's odd that I only ever spent time with one girl, but the truth was all the others were intimidated by me. Or rather by my connection to Kristen. I'd tried talking to them when she wasn't around, but it had always ended with them saying they felt they could never compete with the princess. And I guess in the end, they must have seen exactly what I had so blindly missed-- that Kristen wasn't about to suffer any competition anyway.

  So, they stayed away. Other boys did, too. It was as if the whole world had decided that we were the next King and Queen-- and had already established the appropriate distance.
I couldn't bear the thought of breaking her heart by being with someone else-- but on the other hand, I felt that I couldn't genuinely marry her for love if I'd never had any other experience.

  But perhaps it would be better to get dragged into a marriage that wasn't genuine than to be with someone else and break her heart. Wouldn't it?