Once Upon A Spring Night

Moonlit Acquaintance

“So, are we just going to stack these bodies here?” A ragged young man asked his much older companion, who was preoccupied with dragging a dead body in a sack.

“It might seem so.” He said with a coarse voice that croaked from the caelia he had consumed hours before. “Pay no mind to those—if a sack of a hundred silvers were promised to us, then let us wait for señor for his word.”

In robes of dirt and sweat, the two men continued with their inhumane scheme of piling up corpses like a sack of grain on a farm. The place was a much dread and isolation. It seems death himself had dwelled joyfully among the growing weeds, belladonnas, and motionless green waters.

The stench was perfume from hell. None was safe from the putrid smell except for those selfish souls who had no remorse for someone’s terrible end. No birds were flying in the air, not even little creatures on the land. The dead grass and wilted trees only occupied the haunting meadows. The place rightfully lived up to its legend as the cursed land of Andalusia.

Here came the crickets early in their performance. The sun bid farewell, letting the crescent moon crown the heavens of velvet with its silken beams. Percussions and flutes resonated throughout the whole castle as the celebration began. The festive robes and joyous laughs were a breath of fresh air to the once dull and undisturbed court.

Servants flocked to Princess Primarosa’s quarters—dolling her up with a white silk dress with dainty gold chains and a crown of crystal flowers on her head. She wondered why there was such a need to dress so fancily. A servant then told her, as she was attentively combing her hair, that the queen wanted to see her, and she requested that the princess had to be beautified before she graced her with her presence.

She became nervous. Yasmeen told her about her mother being tenderly sweet but was quite unsure if the same sentiments were bestowed on her since the crowned prince himself saw her as a thorn in sight. That is what she thought.

“That is very thoughtful of the queen to see me.” She said, fumbling in her mind what good compliments to tell the sultana of the land. “I do not know if she will be pleased with me.”

“Not to worry about that, princess.” Said the old lady servant while finishing her hair with a ribbon to secure the bun. “Queen Paravaneh is very gracious. She even talked to us mere commoners—asking if we were happy inside her court. The whole family was generous, though Prince Azlan looked stern, understandably, since he will now take over after his father.”

“Oh, don’t even get me started with that Azlan.” She lightly growled.

Moments later, a little after the servants had prepared Primarosa, Queen Parvaneh entered the small room, and like those who had encountered the princess, she too was in awe of her beauty as she smiled and curtsied at her.

“Buenas noches, su señoría.” Primarosa greeted.

“Buenas noches.” The queen approvingly replied. She gazed at the princess again with a jovial and twinkling eye. A serene and naïve mien emanated from her, making the sultana conclude that the princess was no threat–proving Yasmeen’s judgment about her. “My dear, how are you? Do tell me and be not afraid.”

Her gentle words touched the princess. However, Primarosa paused, wondering if she would tell the unvarnished truth or a sweet lie just to hinder scathing her spirit. But the wise queen mother was no fool as she could read past the princess’ façade the hints of forlorn.

Queen Parvaneh took a step closer to the princess and reached for her hand as she said, “No need for a worried heart, my dear. Are you feeling lonely here?”

She began to sob and tightened the clutch on the queen’s comforting hands. “Oh, Your Majesty, I do! I do! The only solitude I had was Princess Yasmeen visiting me. I truly felt abandoned whenever she left—I remember my sisters. I do not mean to tinge on Azlan’s name, but he was such a confusing person!” Tears flooded her eyes as she continued, “Sometimes he was alright, and sometimes he became haughty—mocking me with those hurtful words.”

The queen wiped Primarosa’s tears and comforted her in her arms, letting all the overflowing emotions inside bear off. The queen’s eyes then roamed and spotted dozens of roses. She even saw the dining set Azlan left from last night’s frolics. “Come, my child,” Ignoring what she just detected. “Let us go to the gardens and have a stretch of sight from this boring enclosure.”

The music from the castle went on as the two ladies walked along the gardens. Outside was more of a fete compared to the feast prepared by the grand vizier. At long last, serenity came upon Queen Parvaneh after many moons of traveling.

Nevertheless, Primarosa was on the opposite end. Cold feet hailed her, accompanied by sudden palpitations on her chest. Her hands then quivered, causing the sultana to guide her to the small tea house garden, where they paused for a while.

“My child, are you alright? Do you feel sick?” A rush of concern flowed through Queen Parvaneh, giving the Christian princess a tender pat on the head.

“I am alright, Your Majesty. I was just feeling a little chill—that is all.” She assured her, with convincing eyes that glittered like the river stream of Babylon.

Queen Parvaneh sighed, though not in relief, more in an anxious frame of mind knowing all too certain that something was haunting Princess Primarosa’s mind. Despite the belief that her father killed her husband during the last battle, the queen’s maternal instinct was stronger—never letting hatred nor dejection befall the docile young lady who felt uncomfortable. “Come here, Princess.” She gestured for a closer seat beside her. “Be at ease. Please do tell me the thing that bothers you.”

Primarosa hesitated at first. The swaying of the trees and follies steadied as the atmosphere had gone at a pace of concord. Trying to collect her thoughts and the right words to express was a bit of a struggle, yet the sweet temperament of the queen made her feel unworried about what she might say “You are indeed kind, oh gracious queen. I was only wondering why Prince Azlan took me away from my home. I repeatedly told him that I knew nothing of an upcoming war, and still, he did not believe me. Like what I have said, he is very unpredictable.”

The queen grinned, fascinated with what she told her. “Is that so?” She then recalled the dining set and roses placed in the princess’ presumed isolation.

Her firstborn was very much dedicated even when he was still in his tender years. Prince Azlan rarely showcased affection, aside from the hugs and kisses he gave to his parents. Everyone knew him as the rigid prince of Al-Jawhira—not only wanting more but glory for their kingdom and dynasty. But as the woman who conceived him, Queen Parvaneh knew deep to the fibers of her bones that Azlan had so much love inside of him. The gentleman probably does not know how to showcase it.

“Well, Azlan was very well-behaved when I was with him. Perhaps he had some little joy with his siblings. Honestly, I was enticed by what you said, dear princess.” She told her, giving small laughs in between.

“I never meant to pry, Your Majesty. I could not get a hold of him.”

“I would like to offer an apology on behalf of the prince for treating you like a prisoner. You are sweet and very polite, my child. I do know we were meant to be enemies–people dreaded to be foes to honor our forefathers. Somehow, I could not help but feel pity for such a lost soul like you.” The queen touched Primarosa’s cheeks and brushed away some hair that curtained her beauty. “You are blessed with this beauty, my dear. It did occur to me that maybe Azlan was—hmm, how to put this—enchanted by you perhaps?”

“Oh, dear queen, pray don’t tease.” A crimson hue flushed her ivory face, remembering that moment in her grandmama’s garden when there were woos and bashful smiles—even recalling the kiss she thought was true. “He—He is not in a way enchanted with me.”

“Who knows, princess? I was only trying to look for an explanation about those roses and his dining set placed in your room.” She informed as she flashed a chaffy grin.

“His… dining?” The princess’ jaw dropped.

“Aywah—the rug and other things are truly his. I remember it so well because it was the rug given to him when he visited the eastern lands. Does he visit quite often?” The Moor queen gave her company a perky grin.