Rootless Tree

Part 2

 Amar had an unquenchable thirst when it came to many things…wine, women, music…a need…a want…an impulse. An insatiable desire for all that could and did bring him pleasure. When one enjoyment became vintage, he would acquire another. After all, what is the point of being a prince if not to indulge? Why not soothe the ache of his unspoken greed? His sister once told him that he had a beast in his belly, one that was always hungry and searching for its next feast. Mere table scraps would never satisfy. While he was no longer a child, the imaginary monster had not left his mind. He could feel it there, swimming around in his gut. Like a shark circling an unaware victim. It was no more innocent then a python waiting hidden amongst the tall grass, undetected; patiently awaiting the perfect opportunity to strike its unsuspecting prey. An uninvited gluttonous guest whose hunger was never satisfied. The very thought of the creature he believed was caged within the bars of his ribcage made him sick and uneasy. He felt what little color he had fade from his skin and turn his stomach sour. The bile mixing with his saliva and burning the inside of his throat. Retching, he leaned over quickly, just in time to vomit over the side of the balcony.

He felt weak in that moment…as though the parts of him Ofelia had filled were now draining from him slowly. Everything from the sounds she made, the tone of her voice or the subtle exhilaration of her scent to the softness of her porcelain touch. As he stared into the emptiness of the ocean he vowed to never love again. With each time a wave licked the rocks that not long before tainted his doll, he reassured himself there would be no more. Such a vow he had made so many times before. And same as the those before he reassured himself she would be the last. He promised himself never again would he allow such a thing as a woman or the lust for one to allow him to become so weak. Wiping his mouth and rising from his bent position, he did so slowly to be sure he wouldn’t become ill again as another wave of queasiness washed over him. He pushed from the banister and turned towards the large opening to his enormous chambers.

It was grand enough to fit several families comfortably but nothing compared to the likes of his sister Annette’s chambers as it was more then capable of fitting a few small houses within it. Fur skin rugs portioned off the different areas of his room like subtle dividers, exotic art of naked men and women in questionable positions adorn the walls of his room. Quite the opposite to his brother Endric who’s room was more like a trophy room to display many types of stuffed game and exotic animal head's that had fallen to Endric's skills as a hunter. Amar was not much of a hunter, at least not of the same manner of creature. His pursue of women could be considered a hunt of its own. Both displayed their hobbies, the bases of their pride and ego, but just in different ways. The decor of Amar's chambers were as dark as his soul and just as haunted. The drapes long enough to touch the floor, sweeping back and forth in the breeze, black and red striped, just like the extravagant piece of cloth that hung down from ceiling to floor in the middle of one of the large stoned walls that held the family crest. Grand Renaissance-era wrought-iron candelabras and other various similar works also were littered throughout the room to add to the somber, shadowy atmosphere that was the princes' living quarters.

He fingered the hole in his shirt between the two buttons and touched the skin of his stomach carefully not to agitate the beast dwelling there. The slightest thoughts or movements could arouse it from its slumber, causing Amar to be the victim of his own allusive mind. The only thing that seemed to hold any life within the walls of his room where the embers that snapped and popped in the fire place, but it too began to die from lack of attention, the hot coals groaning as the warmth slowly left. The room became cold, the air slightly frigid, but it did not bother him. He found comfort in the emptiness. He moved through his room in a slow stride making his way to the basin of water.