The Courier’s Collection

Epilogue

Epilogue

“When those you love die, it’s only you left to feel the pain.”

The words of the councilwoman swirled in Chiza’s head. They’d had to drag her down to the safe rooms with the Prince. Bashir had been angry at first as if the sight of her anguish reminded him of his own. He growled to himself instead of bothering to talk to her. Chiza sat in a chair in her room with her arms wrapped around her body, moaning in grief most days.

Chiza never slept without crying. The sight of food made her sick. Too much blood, death, and Lu. They’d thrown her along with Prince Bashir into the underbelly of the Adalu castle. It was to protect them from any more attacks and to rally the people behind Rasha as they prepared for war against the beasts.

It didn’t bother her much that her father thought her dead. Rasha and Jak ruined his little scheme. He’d thought he would somehow save his precious gems by holding back his daughter from the Choosing. Something she’d been looking forward to until she met Lu. The act of war by the beasts of the north ruined the Choosing. Other than Rasha she was the only princess left. It was no way to start a bond. If she’d never met Lu, she might not know the difference. She’d tasted real love and nothing else would compare. Chiza couldn’t imagine ever loving anyone else. Since there was no one left, it would force them to marry. That was the law. But she could never love him. Instead of attempting to know him she spent most of her days in bed.

They designed the secret compartment of rooms it seemed for just this kind of event. A bedroom on one end with a bath joined to a larger sitting area with another bedroom and bath on the opposite end. The rooms held minimal decoration, nothing like the rooms above. Ornate rugs in blue and red covered the floors.

There were no family pictures on the stone walls only decorative rugs depicting various kingdoms of Bolaji, their castles, and their landscapes. Her own land of Sidoa, new to the kingdoms, was not yet featured. It was just as well as she didn’t want the reminder of her home.

When she ventured from her bed she was freezing cold. The lands to the south were sunny and warm until the rainy season. Her first winter in Adalu hadn't gone as planned. She didn’t want to imagine enduring another winter here.

In their evacuation, they had grabbed nothing for themselves. The guard retrieved their clothing and personal items. But she had nothing from Lu, nothing to remind her of their short time together. He’d loved her, they’d wanted to marry. Had she known he’d die she’d have run off with him instead of going to Adalu. To the garbage with her crooked father’s wishes, anyway.

The first few weeks Chiza didn’t leave her room. Her large four poster bed had white linens with small blue flowers decorating the quilts. The walls in the bedroom had more landscape paintings of Majiwa, Vol, and Karmir. There were no other personal items on the nightstand or in the closet. These rooms had been unused for many rotations.

Three times a day they sat down at a small table in the sitting room to take their meals. Chiza didn’t enjoy eating but knew must. They sat in silence staring at their plates of food with no appetite and no conversation. Bashir seemed no more inclined to talk than she did. He sat stiff as stone staring at his own plate. However, the sound of her rumbling stomach one evening seemed to break him out of his thoughts.

“You should eat something.”

His voice was rough with disuse.

Chiza’s took a sip of her tea but her stomach rumbled again.

“Please, I insist.”

Bashir smirked as he pushed her plate with the edge of his own. It was the closest thing to a smile she’d seen in over a week.

“Come on, if you will I will.”

Chiza shook her head.

“Why should I care if you eat? Why do you care if I do?”

Bashir used his spoon to scoop up some of the beti and held it out for her to eat, like a babe. She stared at it trying to keep any interest from her face and holding her stomach to prevent more growls of protest.

It didn’t work.

Her stomach roared, and he pushed the spoon toward her face and laughed.

She couldn’t resist smiling back before taking a bite. There was nothing wrong with the food. In fact, it was delicious. She picked up a spoon full from her plate and put it to his lips. He took the offered bite with relish. She wanted to laugh but the memory of Lu flashed into her mind and killed her mirth.

The moment passed and they finished their meals in silence. This time she left only a few morsels of food behind.

“I’m so bored. I think it’s the worst part of all this,” Bashir said. “How can we mourn when there’s nothing to do but think about what happened?”

Chiza only nodded in agreement. He put down his spoon and stroked his naked chin.

“I’m thinking we should have books, games, a place to record our thoughts. I know they won’t bring us comms but something,” he said.

Bashir stood up. He decided they needed entertainment. He called for the guard to send their request to the council. Within an hour the guards brought in a small library of books, and several board and card games. When he caught sight of the digital comms his eyes grew wide. Chiza saw the look and wondered what they’d done wrong.

“Comms?” He asked the guard referring to the digital pages he gave to each of them.

“We’ve removed The transmission parts, Your Majesty, no one can track you here. There are pre-recorded films and a digital journal,” the guard said, trying to determine how best to organize the items on the shelf.

“We’ll take it from here. We’ve got nothing else to do. Thank you,” Bashir said giving them a wave of his hand.

Chiza stroked the digital page with wonder. She hadn’t considered writing down her thoughts and now, she wanted nothing else. Ignoring the games she input everything she’d been feeling over the last week. By the time she finished, it was dark, and Bashir was preparing for bed. He organized the books and the games in neat rows on the bookcase. Her mood was lighter and she vowed to play a game or two with the prince. She figured they both needed a friend.

Despite the books and games, the months passed in slow monotony. She’d read several of the books and they played one game together after every meal. Sometimes they’d take turns just walking around the rooms for exercise. Bashir even spent some of his morning doing muscle isolations in his room.

Chiza walked in on him one morning. She’d gotten up early to swap out a book from the library. His door was ajar and she saw him hanging from a metal bar, lifting himself into the air. The muscles of his back pale and strong with each movement. When he leaped from the bar and turned he caught her staring at him. Chiza dropped her gaze and returned to her room without a word. It was only on the other side of the door she realized she had forgotten to trade her book for another.

News of the battle outside trickled to them in bits and pieces. In war, there is little good news to convey. Chiza knew Rasha was doing her best and would never quit. It would make her a great leader if she ever chose such a life. Jak, her friend and perhaps more, would be there to protect her until the end. He was like Lu in that way.

Chiza paused at the thought. It was the first time the memory of Lu didn’t make her cry. The ache was still inside but her tears seemed to have dried up for now.

As the days passed, Bashir did his best to keep them entertained. Chiza laughed and giggled more and more at his humor. She even shared with him thoughts she used to only put in her journal. It was difficult not to, they did almost everything together. They spent more time in the common room, playing games, watching the same recorded films, or reading side by side.

Often when one character in her story did something she disapproved of she made a sound in her throat. He’d lean in and ask her for more details and agree with her. When he laughed out loud at something in his book, he’d explain it and they would both laugh at it together.

Then one day he did something that changed everything.

“Chiza have you read this book yet?”

Bashir held up a copy of The Hunter and The Fairy.

“Actually, I have. It’s a lovely story though the ending is tragic.”

“I thought we might read it together. We can change up the voices and make it our own.”

Chiza liked the idea. It seemed far more enjoyable than reading the book straight through by herself. They divided the characters between them. He agreed to be the narrator. They lounged on the two-person chaise to share the book. Bashir sat down and Chiza settled in beside him. She felt his arm come around to hold her while he held up the book in one hand for both of them to read. They laughed over some humorous lines and changed the sound of their voices to give it even more variety. But there was one part of the story she’d forgotten.

Bashir read the narration.

“The handsome young hunter fought his feelings, but it was no use. He’d fallen in love with the fairy and knew he would do her bidding good or evil.”

His voice dropped, and she saw his head turn to look at her. His gray eyes seemed to pierce her soul. They were a breath apart.

“Your line is next,” he said still holding up the book.

Chiza tore her gaze away from his face and stared at the book. The words blurred together. She couldn’t seem to find her place so he repeated the line. Which only made her insides awaken in a flutter. His finger guided her to the missing line, and she swallowed hard before reading the part of the fairy.

“Dearest hunter, you have given me something more precious than I could have ever imagined. Your heart is more valued than all the magic in all the world. I would gladly give it up to be with you forever.”

She’d forgotten to do the voice she’d chosen for the fairy. Chiza’s eyes fell on the next lines. They both read them in silence. Bashir as the narrator seemed unable to speak them.

The two of them realized they shared a love too big for their war-torn world. They sealed their vow with a kiss. A kiss that changed their worlds for the better.

Bashir’s arm tightened around Chiza and he lowered the book to his lap. He placed his hand on the side of her face. His mouth found hers and her whole world fell apart. His lips light on hers was a sweet kiss full of hope. Chiza couldn’t help but think of her first kiss with Lu. In that moment she lost herself. When Bashir’s kiss deepened though, there was a hunger, and a need she couldn’t answer.

Chiza pulled back and found her voice.

“No.”

But his arms still engulfed her. Their legs entangled around each other in the heat of the moment. He rested his forehead against hers his breath fast against her face. She couldn’t say what she needed to say with his arms still warm and welcoming around her. She detangled herself from him and moved to stand beside the seat looking down at him.

“Please, never do that again.”

The words choking her as she spoke them. Chiza knew she’d hurt him. She let the tears fall down her face. Would it hurt him any less if he knew she’d caused herself more pain than him? She wasn’t sure. Either way, she couldn’t stand the broken look in his eyes and ran from the room.

Alone she went over the last days, weeks, months. When had she started to like him? She couldn’t remember. It had just happened. Chiza wouldn’t betray Lu’s memory so soon. Wasn’t one young man’s sacrifice enough? The war wasn’t over. If anything happened to Bashir, Chiza knew she wouldn’t survive it.