The ride home, though typically short and peaceful, or at the very least uneventful for Tom, was now seemingly a cruel purgatory. Moseying along in between his own earthly heaven and hell, it seemed the path ahead went on and on forever, much like the endless droning of Harrison's singing.
"Captain Haz and Little Tom riding through forest, cryin' and a stessin' cause they know there's hell to pay! Committin' treason for no reason and having such a grand time oo-de-lally oo-de-lally golly what a day!"
"Will you stop it! You're not clever." Tom growled, thankful to finally see the palace in the distance. He couldn't take much more of this.
"Let me have just a few moments of mindless joy before we return to court, get caught, and die!"
"No one's going to die—" Tom scoffed, annoyed by Harrison's fickleness.
"Don't you remember that one prince who married a commoner?"
"Well...no not exactly—"
"Because I'm pretty sure that happened in Egypt in the fourteenth century! And they're dead!"
"Because that was the fourteenth century! Of course they're dead now, you div. And doesn't that prove my point? If it's been done before, it can be done again."
Harrison opened his mouth to speak, and abruptly closed it, aggressively exhaling. He was insulted at how much sense Tom was making when none of this made sense to him at all. It was a disaster waiting to happen. "Of all the fools to be born into royalty—"
"I'm telling you Haz, I'd change it if I could." Tom sighed, pensive. Harrison understood him better than anyone, except when it came to his role as a prince. Though how could he blame him? Harrison has to spend his whole life looking up at Tom from below him: it was impossible to have the same view.
"What exactly are you planning to do, Tom? You can't keep this up—I definitely can't keep this up—"
"I know, I know. I'm not sure yet. I haven't really thought about it. I can't begin to—"
"You haven't thought about it—"
"What do you suggest I do—fake my death??"
"Well, that's a starting point!"
"Haz!"
"Ok, ok! I'm sorry. We just need to think this through. If we don't, it's going to end badly and you know that. Now I think we should revisit faking your death—"
Tom rubbed the back of his neck, almost resigned. "Will you be serious? This marriage is so important to my parents and my brothers. I don't know how I'm going to get out of it."
"Well, maybe you can't."
"What?"
"Tom, I want you to have this bit of romance for now, but soon enough it'll be time to get married and run the kingdom like you're meant to. Maybe all you can do is enjoy the time you have left and be happy you loved once. It's better to have loved and lost than never at all."
"It's not fair." Tom shook his head.
"I know, mate, but sometimes you can't have it all." As they approached the stables, Harrison hopped off his horse. He grabbed the reins of both horses and led them into their stalls. He helped Tom dismount, giving him a pat on the back.
"I'll figure something out." Tom whispered to himself, determined he was meant for something more than the painful compromise Harrison was suggesting. He didn't want it all. He only wanted one thing: something simple, something that wasn't tarnished by facade, with no ribbons and bows or decoration of any kind. He wanted the love in his life to be completely real to him: completely authentic and totally unpolitical.
"You should get inside. Give your parents a little peace of mind. I have duties to attend to, but I'll come by your chambers early tomorrow morning. Very early. I have to help prepare for the princess' arrival."
"Thank you, Haz."
Harrison smirked. "Don't mention it. And I mean really don't mention it—to anyone—I want to keep my head."
Tom laughed heartily. "I'd never let anything happen to you, mate." He waved and then made his way up the passage to his chambers, only to be completely scared out of his skin. His father was standing in the middle of his room across from the fireplace, waiting for him. A small flame flickered on the logs, flitting back and forth much like the nerves in Tom's gut.
"Thomas, just the man I wanted to see!" He bellowed happily, but it made Tom even more uneasy.
"Hello, father. What a surprise...um...what are you doing in my chambers?"
"How did you get in here, my boy?" The king looked around, a bit stunned. To Tom's great dismay, his father caught a glimpse of the stone slab door leaning open before he could pull the tapestry back in place to mask it. "Oh, I see. Has that always been there?"
"Ever since I was a child, yes. It leads down to the stables. It's my little short cut." Tom explained nervously, internally crushed that he no longer had his age old secret.
"Close it up, son. I want to talk to you."
Tom did as he was told, his palms starting to sweat. Had Harrison already ratted him out? That's impossible, he thought. The king motioned for him to sit next to him by the small, crackling fire. The flames were consuming the wood now, the orange ribbons of heat draping over the logs as they began to blacken. The heat warmed his skin, but it didn't soothe him. He felt like he was burning alive from the inside out. "What's this about?"
"It has come to my attention that you were informed by your brothers of the recent revision I've made to our law."
Tom scowled quietly, coveting their newfound freedom. "Yes, father, at the worst possible moment."
"I apologize. You were never meant to find out until after the union was finalized. The truth is, son, Zendaya's kingdom is well aware of their wealth and advantage. All of our exchanges so far have gone amazingly well, but we are still on thin ice. Even the smallest mishap can cause the deal to fall through. Do you understand?"
"Yes." Tom replied, his mood lifting a bit. His brain flooded with ideas for sabotage.
"Everything must go smoothly. That's why we're worried about you."
"Why?"
His face became grave, the deep glow of the fire illuminating his features in an eerie light. "Your days as a prince will soon be over. The moment you are married, you are the new king."
Tom's heart dropped. "What? How—"
"I'm dying, Thomas. I grow weaker, and there is nothing to be done. You must ascend the throne—"
"But—I can't—"
"You must! You have no choice!" He yelled, and soon began coughing. His chest collapsed slightly as he struggled to regain his breath. "You cannot...be king...without..a queen." He stammered in between breaths, slowly resuming his composure.
"Father—" Tom began to break. All the stakes had been raised, and he felt like he was being impaled.
King Dominic wheezed quietly. "I trust you, son. You will make a fine ruler. Secure the marriage, and our kingdom will be safe as well as prosperous. If you don't marry soon I fear the worst—"
Tom was certain his heart was run though. He could feel nothing but a sharp, stabbing pain that worsened by the second. "Yes, father. I understand." He fought back tears, trying to appear dignified.
"Our kingdom and family are desperately depending on you, Thomas." He stood, heading toward the door. "Do not fail us." He sternly turned and left, leaving Tom to crumble on his bed. He sunk his head in a pillow, screaming as loud as lungs would allow him into in before hurling it across the room. He instinctively grabbed his well-loved book of tragedies, ripping through the pages of Shakespeare that he once doted upon. He used to read it over and over again, dreaming idly of love and desire, always being sucked in by the beautiful hopelessness of a predestined calamitous fate. Now it all felt too real. What was beautiful while reading was torturous to live through. A line jumped off the page and it fueled him, filling his soul with a loving rage.
Then I defy you, stars!