Ruins And Royalty

A Questionable Encounter

Sunlight crept through the arched windows of my sleeping courters, awakening me. A cool breeze gently parted the soft, white transparent curtains and moved the palm leaves of a potted plant situated by the window.

I could hear the chirping of birds and the sound of swaying trees as I woke up. Pearl glossy silk bedding slid off my torso as I sat up and moved my legs off the bed. My feet touched a newly laid red and gold rug, gifted to me on my eighteenth birthday, not too long ago, by a wealthy family whose name I could not remember.

I stood up, stretching; putting one arm behind the other reaching high. On a wooden chest near the door, were clothing laid out neatly with jewelled accessories.

I got dressed in my finest attire; a porcelain white tunic with gold, block pattern borders and an obsidian black himation; an outer garment wrapped over the left shoulder and under the right arm, just around the waist. The outfit was accessorized with a large, textured, gold cuff bracelet, a few gem rings and a golden olive leaf crown to top it off. Lastly was my signature dropped chain earing, completing the look.

Emperos spared no expense to its appearance as its riches were flaunted at every occasion and throughout the Kingdom.

The King and Queen of Emperos were seated at their thrones. On either side of them were smaller chairs made from dark rosewood. The pillows from the finest suede and embroided with lux patterns. They were dressed and draped in the finest textiles and jewels suited for royalty, as were the rest of us. A deep purple, darker than the shade of a violet dendrobium orchid, chiton dress were wore by my mother and sisters, as darker shade of clothing were popular among the people of Empros.

The palace itself followed through with the expensive theme and darker shades as the colour purple, red and black represented dominance that reflected on how the royals proceeded themselves. It was not an overpowering darkness of décor and presence as the palace was still inviting and beautiful soft tones were making up most of its look.

The marble floor shone like diamonds and the pillars that lead up to the entrance from where we were seated were draped with golden rope holding back pearl silk fabric. Newly painted potted plants flourishes from one corner to another, making the room smell like a rose garden. Perfectly sewed banners, embroided with the family crest hanging down from the roof and from poles slanted on the side of the walls.

A man at the entrance blew on a horn and the gigantic doors at the entrance opened.

“King Osran and Queen Evangeline of House Windane from the Kingdom of Yarrow.” He announced loudly and we stood up, ready to welcome our guests. Light shot through like a treasure chest opening, revealing gold, as the doors slowly opened and followed by its presence were figures ever so elegantly. The King, tall and bulk as a bull with long golden blonde hair topped with a silver leaf crown imbedded with pearls and at his side, his Queen, soft features and wavy light blonde hair, tied back in a thick braid with flowers intertwined.

The prince and princesses followed shortly after, the man announced them as well. I searched their faces and landed on the one person I was actually happy to see, Torin. How he has grown, nothing like the boy I once knew. He stood tall with his chest out, short dark blonde hair with sharp eyes and a defined chiselled jawbone.

He squinted his eyes when they fell on me and for a moment we acknowledged each other. I was ecstatic to finally be in the same room as him after all this time and I could see that he felt the same way, but we both kept our composure.

The man kept announcing the rest of the family and their position, but I did not care to learn their names. I’ve met them all before when I was a child and only remembered the eldest name, I did not care to learn the rest.

“Youngest son, Zander Windane!” My eyes shot towards the last person to enter as I heard a name I thought I’d never hear again.

Entering was the youngest Prince of Yarrow and followed by his presence, light that seemed to be reserved for him. At first, as he entered, the light from behind him darkened his appearance and in the doorway stood an angelic figure. Time slowed as he made his way in and as he got closer, his features became clearer.

The House of Windane formally lined up in front of the Nightingale family. The young Prince of Yarrow was now close and his distinctive presence caught everyone by surprise. I noticed that an unsure atmosphere hung in the air, awaiting to be cleared. I could feel the confusion from not only my family, but the maidens and squire boys, agape at the sight.

Sun-kissed, wavy blonde hair, lighter at the tips that fell in perfect form presenting a soft, fair face sculpted by the hands of the Gods. Intoxicating green eyes, a vivid view of a landscape deep in the forest, flourishing, overshadowing the peridot gemstones in his silver olive leaf crown.

Lush lips with a prominent cupid’s bow, gentle ruby red evoking sensual thoughts.

His beauty exceeded that of his sisters and by far the representation of his Kingdom. He’s appearance resembled that of an angel.

“Goran, it has been too long, old friend.” The King of Yarrow’s voice broke the silence and pulled me back to reality. I couldn’t help but wonder how long I was staring at the Prince and whether he noticed.

“Indeed it has, Osran.” The King of Emperos replied. They regarded each other for a moment then laughed, embracing one another with a hug.

A few words were exchanged and then we were led to the Dining hall for supper. My father and King Osran wasted no time sharing stories of the time they were separated. My mother made no attempt to speak with Queen Evangeline, although the blonde woman glared at her, awaiting conversation.

Next to her was Prince Zander. He attracted a lot of attention, not only from the servants, but the maidens as well.

Kalmin, of course, spoke to the fair princesses, who didn’t seem too interested, but made an effort to put on a smile.

Torin was seated in the chair in front of me, a vase with wild flowers blocking half of his face.

“I would tell you it has been far too long, but my old man already exclaimed that.” Torin spoke with a teasing smile.

I leaned to the side and peered around the vase to see his face fully.

“Should we exchange stories of our time apart as well?” I joked, smirking. We both laughed.

“What have you been up to since the last time I saw you.” Torin asked, sipping wine.

“The usual… training to be crowned champion.” I replied. Torin chuckled, shaking his head.

“I’m sure you’ve done more than that?” He asked curious, listening intently.

“I’m afraid I’ll disappoint you, most of my time consists of combat and sword training.” I explained with a sigh, leaning back in my chair.

“Too bad that won’t be enough for I will ultimately win the Game of the Gods.” He replied laughing proudly. I smiled at the comment, but made no effort in countering him. As confident as he might seem, I knew it would not be measured by his true strength. These who tend to brag die first.

Entering the game did not mean death if you did not win, but half of the people entering almost always die every time. Don’t let the word game fool you. Taking part in the Game of the Gods meant accepting that you might die at any time. If not from a horrific creature or dangerous situations, competitors will surely try to kill off the competition.

The game was unpredictable and you had to be ready at any moment when an event might occur. You had to be in the right mind set to follow through for once you have entered the games and get accepted, there was no turning back and giving up.

This was well known and a risk, but the price at the end was ever so sweet.

“Regardless for how the games play out, I’m sure we can be friends, for now.” He added jokingly.

“Indeed we can.” I replied.

Laughter in the distance broke our conversion and we both had our attention on our fathers who converted like men who see each other every day. Torin shook his head and grabbed a piece of cooked chicken off a large plate in the middle of the table next to the vase.

I reached for a jug of wine when my eyes fell on the fair prince. He was smiling and chatting to Aurora and Dayron who were seated in front of him. I still could not figure him out and seeing him so social was strange. The memories I had with him got clearer every time my eyes met him face.

I remembered how I would spend hours just talking to him about the adventures I had around the palace; fighting imaginary monsters with an enchanted sword to saving a princess from a two headed hydra…

He would always listen so intently with excitement on his face, always asking me to share more stories.

I did not mind spending time with him and I assumed that everyone else did. I never saw him converse with any of his siblings, or anyone else for that matter. I did not do it out of pity either, I genuinely wanted to. Eyes around the castle held empathy when they fell upon him. They felt sorry for him; just a sick little boy with no hope of survival or place in the world.

So I did not pity him, nor did I feel sorry. To me, with the mind-set of a heroic little boy, I focused on making him feel human and wanted.

I got a chance to get to know him in a way that no one else had. As much as I shared stories of my adventures, he shared stories of adventures he’d one day like to have. As cruel as the world treated him, he had the kindest heart wanting to give back.

“Medicine.” A voice broke through my gaze.

“What?” I asked confused turning my head towards Torin.

“That’s why you are staring, is it not?” He regarded me for a moment and then continued. “How did a boy so chronically ill turn into such a good example of perfect health?”

“I’m sure I’m not the only one thinking that.” I replied with one eyebrow raised.

“Indeed not, others have asked, but it is a simple explanation really.” Torin explained. “Our advisers were ordered to request medical assistants from nearby countries and so they replied, willing to help.”

It was no surprise that other countries were so eager to help. The Kingdom of Yarrow was kind and giving and liked by most. I could not say the same for Emperos, as we were seen as a selfish and cunning Kingdom. If it was not for the friendship that King Goran and King Osran shared, Emperos and Yarrow would certainly be enemies.

“After much research and gathering of supplies, he was healed by a yellow flower that grew on the tallest mountain.” He ended off with a very vague explanation and continued eating. I reckoned that he must have explained this story over a hundred times. I did not pray further as it did not really bother me. I was curious, but in the end the information did not impact my life in any way, so I did not care to know the details.

“Did your father not tell you?” He asked with a mouth full of food.

I shook my head, “No, he did not mention anything.”

Torin shrugged his shoulders and not to my surprise neither did I wonder why, I did not expect them to give me such information, regardless of the two Kings friendship.

Neither my mother nor father would give their children any information that was not beneficial to our upbringing.

We left the conversation at that as if it was forgotten and continued our meal, talking about other events in our life other than pray on one insignificant one.