Once Upon A Spring Night

Princess in Absentia

A dire shadow threatened the whole Christian kingdom. There was no life at all, seemingly that winter had gathered force and drew early on sister spring’s jolly days. King Joaquin was fuming, knowing that Primarosa was nowhere to be found. He became a blazing lion once her old tutor and faithful lady, Sor Agueda, found a letter placed in the lost princess’ studies in the palace library.

There were not many details written in it, except for the unforeseeable act that broke and angered the king badly…

“I can no longer be on your wing, father. I have been keeping a secret long enough that I cannot bear to disgrace the coming matrimony you keyed. I have been in an affair with King Sandalius’ son. It is he, Prince Niccolo, that I die to marry.”

King Joaquin cursed as he crumpled and threw the paper to the ground. Queen Ines was roused from his exasperation, perplexed to see him sitting on his throne in distress.

“What is the matter, my king?” She asked, as his face had gone more sorrowful along with the growing wails of the nuns.

“It’s Prima.” He vacantly answered, not even having the strength to face her–only to have a blurred gaze at nothingness.

The queen, who was holding back the tears in her eyes, saw the crumbled paper still unmoved on the floor and immediately grabbed it. “Santa Maria!” She expressed this after she read the letter.

Queen Ines froze, letting all the emotions take over her body. The nuns rushed to her side, noticing the dwindling feet that failed the monarch as she cried, “Oh, Primarosa! My Prima…”

King Joaquin reached out to his queen and brought her to his side of the throne. He then leaned his chin on her head as his other arm comforted her in a tight embrace. “How could she do this?” He subtly uttered, hiding away the trembling anger in his voice. “How can such a respectable comrade allow this hooligan act happened?”

When the pooling rage could no longer be resisted, the king smashed his fist on his throne and screamed in madness—louder than those callings of war. Queen Ines consoled him and requested for the nuns to leave them. She hushed her king, pulling him down to her embrace.

“Joaquin, let us not make a commotion.” She said to him while trying to ease her own emotions. “I do not believe this, mi amor. What was said in the letter—I see no Prima on it. Not a soul or even a hint of sweetness written on it. Something tells me this is all just some hoax.”

The king stayed motionless in her arms. Perturbed with thoughts that were dimmer than the rippled waters. It then began to weigh on his shoulders his duties for the kingdom: his daughter was missing, and reports came recently of other missing citizens. He stiffened in his words as he looked at his wife and told her, “Primarosa was no burden to me—she was my first darling and the apple of her sisters’ eyes. There was no dull moment when her sun lighted the heavy room.” Letting go of her hold, King Joaquin straightened up on his sit and reported to her the other news, “I have been carrying such a heavy load,” His eyes gazed again from afar, “Two reasons, mi reina, one is of our daughter and the other half were reports I just received about new counts of missing citizens.” The queen was more staggered by what he shared. King Joaquin then continued as he held Queen Ines’ hands between his, “I do not know why those misfortunes happened. All I know is that these tales of astray happened during the dead of the night. Consistent with the cries of their families.”

“Dios santo…!” The queen flabbergasted.

“Yes. Most of the missing ones were women. Daughters of farmers and even of noble lords.” He sighed, completely subdued even on the good morrow.

Later that day, the worried king called a council, and they promptly discussed the problems that piled up on their plates. Inside the royal hall was fuming with arguments and hypotheses about the issues. One suggested diplomacy, while others favored raising arms against their neighboring kingdom.

“Dear king,” An old adviser addressed, “It seems like these circumstances have become oddly coincidental.”

King Joaquin finds his statement a puzzle. One brow raised and requested an elaboration. “Care to tell us what you mean, Señor Domingo?”

“This is just my observation, Your Majesty… The number of lost subjects seemed to be growing, and after this came the news of Princess Primarosa’s elopement with Prince Niccolò. Don’t you think this is some kind of treason?”

“King Sandalius is a comrade, even like a brother to me. I cannot comprehend the idea of him being guilty of disloyalty.” The king contemplated, with his hands clasped together on the table. “With their crowned prince–I have not heard any news of Niccolò since.”

“Neither am I, Your Highness. But I heard he was good with the ladies.” Domingo said. “The boy is very ambitious too, unlike his father.”

Doubts ruptured the king’s thoughts, questioning more of the good tidings between him and King Sandalius. This bitter mood gradually seeped through and molded into an angry bull expression, with brows frowning and a firing heat on his nose. The men waited for him, trying to avoid unnecessary rage.

Despite keeping much patience inside the room, hell still got loose when the door swung aggressively as Duke Gervasio entered. He was mad like Aries. “May God forbid all that was said… Your Majesty, my king, is it all true?” He hotly asked, showcasing the thinness of his composure.

“Calm your horses, señor.” Señor Alejandro, the king’s very old right hand, prompted.

“It cannot be done, señor Alejandro! Primarosa’s alleged elopement is a stain on my pride and a scandal to this kingdom!”

“And be it more to the king, who is her father, and to the kingdom of Delombre itself! An utmost ally having to have turned its cheek with this act.”

“Pray that these rumors are just rumors, señor.” The livid duke pointed to the king.

King Joaquin stared at the young man’s eyes and found an understanding with the increasing blaze in his veins. In no haste, he stood from his position and placed a consoling hand on Gervasio’s shoulder. “Forgive me, my son, but those rumors were, sadly, not a rumor at all. I had received a note from Primarosa and said that she had run away to Sandalius’ place.”

“How dare she?” The duke's voice cracked in displeasure. “How dare they insult us like this? How dare they insult the kingdom?”

“Gervasio!” The king perked him up, trying to bring back his senses. “Listen to me. As her father, it raised some doubts about its validity, but as a king, it alarmed me to the circumstances this can catapult! With all honesty, I am in complete jumble knowing that a number of my people also had gone missing recently.” Gervasio became aware of his sensibility as the monarch continued, “Some men here speculated that both were part of some treacherous slander.”

“I see no lie in that perspective, Your Majesty. I have known Niccolò since we were just young boys from the academy. He was a nuisance. He was overbearing, and I cannot see why he could easily woo some innocent damsel such as Primarosa.” Duke Gervasio said, convinced and firm on his view. He even expressed to the king his favor with a war against the Delombre. Some agreed to this, but some still chose to have a diplomatic exchange between the two kingdoms to maintain the strong allegiance.

Arguments came flying in the air one after another, becoming a pile of contradictions with conclusions leaning toward a lost cause. King Joaquin was heavily suspired–only promised by the next two days his final decision. Sorting through their councils and causes needed more time than just arguing in circles.

Leaving the assembly with a whirlwind of duties that needed to be solved, King Joaquin was still in shambles, longing to know if Primarosa was doing well.