I cry with no words, smile without tears,
But my eyes would always know fear.
2nd ☾
The Damsel's Tears
I was awakened by the hard pounding on our front door. I was about to go back to sleep, when I heard some unusual sounds coming from downstairs—loud chatters. I hurriedly got up and slipped my feet into my slippers, wondering what was going on.
Putting on some gloves when I realized that I hadn't imagined the seal on my hand last night, I went downstairs to see who our guests were. It wasn't unusual to have guests in our house. What was odd was that they came when the sun was barely out there in the sky. We usually had them at late afternoon.
As I was halfway through the stairs, I saw my father talking to some soldiers. Fear resounded in my thoughts, but I told myself not to think ahead of things. My mother stood behind Father, and her beautiful face was covered with worries.
There were five armored men standing outside our door. They had red marks on their armor, and I knew right then that they were the king's guards.
"I came here upon the king's royal order. After a long search, we'd finally found your new house, sir. We heard that you have a child who turned twelve today. We came here to see her," said one of the soldiers.
"And by what order is that?" my father doubtfully asked.
"It is the king's verdict that every girl who turned twelve from the day of Your Majesty's designation, whose father is a duke, will be held for investigation," the soldier tightly replied, as he handed a folded scroll to my father.
My father took the scroll from the guard and opened it. Disapproval was painted on his stern face as he read what was written on it. He gave it back to the soldier, steadfastly saying, "My daughter is fourteen. She is not twelve. I'm not showing her to you, because she is not whom you're looking for. You can take your leave now."
How did they find us here? How did they know? Why would they want to see me? What threat did we possess that we should be held for investigation? A girl so ordinary, who had no power, no treasure of her own, and nothing the king should fear of. I had known that the king's reputation was not good. But why would he make an absurd order like that?
I clenched my right hand in worry. There was a seal in it, and I was more than aware of its presence. Coincidences, Ira called it. It happened when two things that normally wouldn't meet suddenly crossed paths. I hoped that this was one of those, and the king's soldiers weren't here because of the presence of the seal.
After a moment, I heard the king's soldier speak again. This time, his voice was sterner. "It is stated that if anyone will go against the king's order, we have no choice but to eliminate them."
My father, despite the threat, did not move an inch from where he was standing. Instead, he firmly blocked the door. My mother looked very worried as she stood behind him. As much as my mind was confused with everything that was happening, when I saw the soldier pull his sword from its sheath, without a second thought, I hurried down to my father's side. They all stared at me as I made noises while coming downstairs.
My parents protected me from when I was young. They did everything and left the comfortable life they used to have. All for me.
I didn't know if a child should repay her parents like this, by putting her life on the line. But I knew it was what I should do. When I was twelve, I realized that love could mean sacrifice. That there was a love willing to trade one's life for.
I felt so brave as I trod our living room and ran towards the door. But the moment that I came in front of the sword, my knees began to shake fiercely. I was uncontrollably overwhelmed by the fear that surged up in my chest. I had never been this close to a real sword.
I saw the finely polished blade reflect the morning sunlight. It was sharp, like it could cut you in half with one stroke. Nevertheless, I stood firm as I held my right arm with my left hand, clenching my fist once again. I might not know what they wanted from me. But as much as I could help it, I would not let them see the seal in my hand. The coincidence of the seal and their appearance was too blatant to be set aside.
"Be wise. Know who to trust. Observe your surroundings, Cassandra," my mother said before.
"Cassandra!" my father worriedly exclaimed, trying to take me away from where I'd stood. "Get back to your room. You're not needed here."
"I'm alright, Father," I tried to assure him, even though my whole body shook in absolute fear.
"Is she your daughter?" the soldier asked, putting back his sword to its sheath.
I felt instant relief that the blade was out of sight. "Yes, I am."
"Cassandra, go upstairs!" There was urgency in my father's voice. Warning. It wasn't like the tone I'd heard him use whenever I did something wrong. It was the voice he used when danger was near.
"We just need to see her right hand," the soldier told Father. He motioned for me to show him my hand. "Can you please take off the glove, child? We just need to look for something. It won't take long."
I was aghast, but I kept my lips in a straight line. How did they know that there was something on my right hand? I was alone in my room when the seal had appeared. They weren't supposed to know that. They weren't there.
When the soldier noticed that I wasn't obeying his order, he forcefully grabbed my right arm. I tried to get out of his grip. But what strength did a child have compared to a full grown man? A soldier, even so. My father tried to come to my rescue, but he was held back by two more soldiers.
"Don't do anything to him!" I emptily threatened.
"Show me your hand, child, and no one will get hurt." The soldier started to open my closed hand, one finger after another. "Damn, child! Won't you just open it?"
I closed my eyes and resisted the soldier as much as I could, but my hand was giving away. And as my fingers were drawn open and the soldier removed the glove, I sincerely wished that the seal was just a trance. That when I opened my eyes, it would disappear. But there it was, to my horror—the seal, reflecting the scorching sun in broad daylight.
Then I heard some murmurs in the group. My father gripped my shoulders and moved me forcefully behind him. Throwing me a worried look, Mother thoughtlessly brushed my hair. Her eyes were on my right hand. She must have been wondering where that seal came from. I tried to open my mouth and answer her inquiry, but the soldier cut me off before I could even utter a word.
"I'm afraid we have to take her with us," the soldier said.
"What for? A child who hasn't done anything wrong?" asked my father sternly.
"It is the king's order," the soldier replied.
"I won't give her away. If the king wants to take her in, he will have to explain to me first," my father replied.
My father was about to close the door, but the soldier slammed it open. "Then I'm afraid you left us with no choice."
"How dare you! In my house?" exclaimed my father.
"The king's orders are absolute. If anyone would go against his orders, that person would face death." The soldier flung the sword out of its sheath again. Terribly enough, he pointed it against my father's throat.
I let out a scream.
"I will take your daughter, and you have no right to question it," the soldier said, resolute.
"Fa... ther, I... I'll go with... them." I trembled in fear as I held my father's right arm, insisting for him to move back. The king wanted me. It was me whom he was searching for.
My parents looked at me, and I knew they disagreed with my decision. But it was an unspoken agreement that if I wouldn't go, we would all die. Maybe the king wouldn't hurt me. Maybe he only wanted to ask me something.
Foolish.
I knew it was foolish to try imagining that there was any kindness left in the evil king's heart. The tell tattles said that he had already sold his soul for immortality. Any trace of humanity had already been ripped from his being. What he had was an empty body with no core.
Our kingdom was already lost and never had been found again when King Oliver perished in the hands of the reigning wicked king. They said that there used to be peace and the townspeople once led a blissful life. My mother used to tell me that King Oliver had ruled with dignity and honesty. Now, it was chaos. Everywhere you looked, someone was being mistreated. The people lived in fear.
Before my father would do anything harsh to fight back, I presented myself and led the soldiers out of our home. "You can take me away, but you must never harm them."
"Take her. We better get going if we wanted to make it to our camp before midnight," said the soldier.
"Cassandra!" my father called out.
I held back the tears, afraid to turn around and see the worry in their faces.
Two soldiers started dragging me with them, but I'd noticed that the three didn't leave my home. This time, I glanced back. The soldiers decisively encircled my parents, who were being held back in our front yard.
"Why aren't they leaving?" I demanded in a loud voice, as they were pulling me away.
No one answered.
Why weren't the soldiers leaving? Included in the ones left behind was the head of the group, the soldier who insisted that we should obey the king's decree. His sword was still out of its sheath. And I knew, I knew that things didn't look good.
The three soldiers in our front yard moved closer, obstructing the view. What I couldn't believe was the next thing I'd heard, beyond the things I couldn't see. No, they wouldn't. I was denying it in my head. The hideous thought didn't sink in at first.
It was the sound of my mother's agonizing cry slowly haunting the place that woke me back to reality. The words she said were unclear. The sound grew louder and heavier, deep like an echo. Then after one loud shriek, there was a deafening silence.
"No!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, trying to get away from the one who held me by the wrist. From afar, I saw one of the soldiers lift his sword—one that was dripping with blood.
Bright red blood.