4.

Baden

“Your throne and the entire kingdom don't compare to the jewel I desire, King Thales. The thing I want is too precious, even for you. I don’t want your crown or your fort as they are useless to me. I want the pride and dignity of Alvar.

Princess Valentina.”

King Henry kept his demand without an ounce of shame. His skin didn’t crawl, thinking of a girl half his age that stands equal to his daughter. All he knows that he has wanted her since the moment he saw her playing in the garden with a wild cat five years back. He had traveled to Alvar, looking for the real jewels for his third wife. He didn’t deem to flounder upon a beautiful princess, dressed in white like an angel and giggling in the garden of the fort of Alvar, feeling the music of gust. He was smitten and, in that mere moment, decided to have her when she comes to a ripe age. She was just 14 summers at that time but still looked radiant, reaching his shoulder. He was taken aback by her purity and beauty. Her movements were like some divine poetry coming to life. He could still hear her tittering at the back of his mind when she opened her hands, welcoming nature’s essence and spun in one place. Her long dress flared around her fully and gave her the shape of a breathtaking flower.

That day he had vowed to himself when he visits Alvar the next time he won’t return without her. If it came to war, he will spill blood to have a taste of her delicate flesh. And to quench his anxiety, the fate fell right on his side as the King of Alvar decided to pay a visit in his most vulnerable moment. He looked desperate for help and surely will stoop to any level to put his empire together. Even sell his lovely princess, when it came to sacrifice.

The disrespectful words uttered for the kind and innocent princess of Alvar riled the hot-blooded warriors standing at the corner. Without a second thought, their hands flew towards their sword, and with a roar, they lunged in front to cut the head of Henry. All the previous aloofness was forgotten because someone has dared to keep evil eyes on the nation’s pride. The princess of Alvar was the heart of the empire. A persona beyond her years and treats all with equality.

With the sharp-edged and polished swords, the warriors rushed to spill the blood. Every cell in their body screamed to protect the cherished jewel of their homeland. The caring princess. They won’t let any dark shadow fall upon her till their last breaths. They were chosen to fortify the royals of Alvar.

King Thales saw it coming and like a mountain, stood in between his people and the corrupted king. Every muscle in his body vibrated with rage, still, he contained all the revolting emotions and used the pumping adrenaline to formulate a restraint. A restraint that might save the spoilt king from losing his life.

The hackles of Baden’s soldiers rose by watching their king getting cornered all of a sudden. They yelled out their shock and quickly worked on defense, but the warriors of Alvar were sharp enough to halt them. Still, King Henry didn’t seem a little concerned for the chaos he just devised in the silent atmosphere. The tip of the sword was inches away from his throat, yet he sipped the wine of blueberries hastily. Amusement shined in his eyes, and they shimmered after gauging the look on King Thales’s face. It was contorted in disgust and hatred. Thales was shocked to the core. His gut flexed when Henry took his daughter’s name from those tainted lips. He wanted to do nothing but drive his sword through his black heart.

“Get down of your high horse, Henry. The heights have certainly perished your ability to think because you have no idea, what you are spitting. The person you are calling a thing and subjecting as an object for some trade is my daughter. You will never have her, and I will make sure of that.” Thales screamed on Henry’s face, who sat there unfazed. A hollow chuckle left past his lips, and he rubs his palms together.

“Thales, do not forget where you are standing. This is my land, and it won’t take me a second to slit your throat.” At the open threat, the warriors of Alvar roared their disapproval. Their body was in attack mode now, barely holding back from springing forward. But the King was in middle, protecting Henry from his vicious beasts.

“You are right, Henry. I am not in Alvar but standing in Baden, your home, a foreign land. Because if it had been Alvar, I had to return you to Baden unscathed even after uttering those sickening words. My ancestors taught me to treat the enemy with respect when they are running in your radius. But this is Baden, and here I own the liberty to rip your heart out of the chest and wash my daughter’s feet with your blood.” Thales growled aloud, and all the amusement vanished from Henry’s features. His nostrils flared with resentment as he stood up to match the frame of the mighty King of Alvar. Both of them stood nose to nose, breathes apart.

“For a man who has ruled the prosperous Alvar for 25 years and won 29 wars, you sound foolish, Thales. You are ready to sacrifice the lives of thousands to protect one silly girl. I offered you fair trade, and you dare raise your voice, questioning my sanity.”

“Henry, calm your loins. The girl you are referring to as some futile object is the heir of a powerful throne. And you want to trade her for the happiness of my kingdom? Know this- even if you sell yourself in the open market of Bagdad, you won’t be able to justify her price. She is too much for a rat like you. I will kill my daughter instead of pushing her in the tainted lands of Baden. The way you are leading your people is quite disturbing. The way you are making a trade, a true king never does. I say this in front of everyone, you are not a King but an opportunist, a businessman, and a merchant who hovers where the profit comes most.

My kingdom will love to die in suffering than handing their dignity to an undignified man.

No daughter of Alvar will ever become the bride of Baden, I promise you.”

The sincere and bitter words of Thales rattled the beast within Henry as in the next moment, he reached for the knife in the fruit basket and stabbed the proud King in the jugular. Nobody in the circle fathomed the sudden act. In their eyes, Henry was defenseless a few moments ago.

As his fist tightened around the knife, he stared deeply in Thales's glazed eyes. The ocean shade of worn-out lenses was diminishing in nothing.

“And I promise you, Thales, I won’t sit still until I have your daughter in front of me, on her knees. I will rip every shred that you have weaved to hide her from the world. I will pull every string and bring her undone.” He whispered harshly and pulled out the knife. Thales hissed in pain before clutching the wound that was freely oozing blood. His lungs collapsed under the weight of affliction and heaved for air. His tongue lapped the blood filling his throat at a fast pace. As the warm liquid dripped from the hole in his neck, he sent a mean smile towards Henry.

“She will kill you.”

With that said, his legs lost the grip of the ground, and his body fell backward, in the arms of his warriors. Even in death, he didn’t sleep in the feet of a demented king. The noble king was murdered in betrayal, but his body rested in the strong arms of his motherland.

Watching his limp body, the color drained from each warrior’s face. They held him and looked at the slipping life stunned.

The King of Alvar was dead and the now the throne has been widowed.

With one nod, Henry gestured his soldiers to slay what was left, and in no time war cries rang inside the meeting hall of the fort. Fifty soldiers of a greedy nation slaughtered fifteen patriots.

The cruel king pulled out a scarf and cleaned the stains of blood from his face. Only if he could clean those marks from his soul.

***

Alvar

There is something divine about the fragrance of soil after the rain. The moist scent is alluring and refreshes the mind from bouldering tensions. As it blows and wafts past the pores of the skin, racks shivers of ecstasy and goosebumps in the wake.

The scary trees that stood dead and leafless from so long, now basked under the heavy sky, eager to bloom once again and stand as an art of nature. The birds that flew away from the barren lands to survive the heat were flying back to their old nests, rejoicing under the enchanting atmosphere of the evening sky. The tip-top of the slight drizzling still rang as it hits the hay roofs of worn-out huts. When they collide with the ankle-deep water on the hungry ground, it resonates as melodious chimes of cathedral bells. Children of the town were jumping like baboons with their tongues tucked out to taste the heavenly essence that has been falling from skies unbroken. Their haunting eyes were mystified with excitement, watching the rare scenery in amazement. The giggles and sweet laughs of young girls ranged in once silent alley as they ran out of their houses with open arms and twirled under the crystal drops coming from dark clouds. Their mothers smiled affectionately and quickly tied ropes to the strong branches of old trees to fabricate a beautiful memory of innocent childhood. Their shining eyes recalled their childhood, where they spent most of their time braiding each other’s hair and ride on the swings under the same trees.

The daughters of this generation were unfortunately kept deprived of such luxuries as they were birthed in the melancholy of crisis. The little one's eyes sparkled with delight as they watched their mothers working to create a swing that will move to and fro with the movement of wind in the lonely nights.

The laughter of old beings erupted on every village squares as they discussed the current happenings and shared their disbelief. Though their old and foggy eyes failed to notice every drop, the wrinkly skin absorbed the wetness brilliantly. Even in the turning weather, they fished out time to smoke from oriental pipes. The idea was hilarious, but it was part of their pride. They were celebrating the new beginning after crying for the deaths of loved ones. Nature has been merciless on them, but the lord of the universe finally bestowed his blessings by scything their sufferings.

In all, the joy was on height as the people commemorated after earning the lost heritage.

The fort of Alvar was no different.

The powerful doors that were closed from so long now stood open, giving way to visitors. Every corner of the said fort was lit with colorful lanterns, shining like a new bride and welcomed the occasion with full power. The maids hurried to lit the candles and dust the corners that were left unattended for long. Their priorities have changed now. After the healers confirmed that the air is fresh and doesn’t carry harmful particles of the plague, they stopped spraying the medicines and indulged in the new task addressed by the Princess. Delighted with this new job, they eagerly lurched to brighten the dark corners. The soldiers took their designated places near all entrances rather than running the patrols. There was no fear of any robbery or attack as the people were slowly gaining their sanity back. The weather has cooled their minds, and the craze and hunger have subsidized.

Princess Valentina laughs carefree in the mirror as she watches Phoebe, daughter of her personal maid Katrina, playing with the dolls. The five summers old looked desperate to make her two stuffed dolls talk back. Katrina, who was standing behind the Princess, combing long cherry blonde hairs with a silver comb, smiled. Her thin fingers gently brushed the tangled hair of the Princess before she goes to bed.

“Mamma, Eila is being mean to Nili,” Phoebe complained raising the doll dressed in a blue skirt. The princess finally turned to look at the little one along with her maid, and the two females giggled.

“Eila, don’t be mean,” Katrina called out politely and Phoebe nodded, agreeing with her mother.

“Hmmm…” the little one quipped.

“Your daughter is adorable, Katrina. Do bring her every day. I would like to have her company. Kids always manage to touch my heart with their innocent acts.” Katrina smiled at the princess’s request and nodded courteously. She would love to leave Phoebe under Valentina’s influence so that the little one could learn to be brave and passionate just like her.

“Of course, your highness. Should I braid your hair?” Katrina asked while caressing the wild and thick mane she has tamed a few minutes back. The Princess tapped her chin, then shook her head.

“No need, Katrina. I like them open.” The heir of Alvar instructed and stood up from her place in front of the shiny mirror, bordered by wooden carvings. Removing the invisible creases from her silk nightgown, the princess moved towards the secluded section of her chambers, the one where even the maids weren’t allowed to wander. From dusting the area at usual intervals to adjusting the furniture, it was all done by Valentina. She was a solitary person and enjoys passing the lonely hours in her little sanctum. The secluded area was filled with giant shelves holding the history and numerous heartfelt fictions of the time. Princess Valentina loved to read. She would devote uncountable hours, lost in the wonders stretched in black ink on the smooth and thin papers. As much as the heroism in those fictions irritated her, she couldn’t help but admire the emotions poured in each syllable. Her mind mostly snorted over the display of a weak society and crying female protagonists. On times she would scoff and toss the book at some corner, finding the concept of love quite mediocre as the involved party loses the ability to think rationally. Her mind would go on with an inner battle of its own regarding such diplomatic issues. At times, she tried to create a work, a story of her own. She would grab a bundle of papers and collect the ink. But the moment she keeps inked feather on the paper, her mind loses itself in the world of an empty canvas. She fails to muster the thoughts on that small piece.

The writing wasn’t exactly her cup of tea, and after realizing that, she gave up.

As Valentina settled on a plush chair decorated with the softest cushions, lets out a tired sigh and stares at the dark sky, wearing a soft smile. She wished her father had waited for another day and register the turning events with his own eyes. A tear escaped the corner of her eye imagining the joy and twinkle shining in his piercing blue orbs. He would have laughed and congratulated his pulpit. He must have applied a few schemes by now to conserve the new resources for future use. He must have instructed the warriors of Alvar to scatter around to aid the people who seek help.

Brushing away the stray tear, she adjusted the lantern so that its glow directly falls on her lap. Her gaze landed on the shelf right in front of her chair and glazed through the numerous covers, stopping at one. A grin stretched over her lips as she recalled it as her mother’s. In the past, the princess had lost various opportunities to read it, but today, in the absence of her father, she might get a chance to go over it. Standing from the chair, she gracefully walked towards the row while her long hairs and gown trailed behind her. Pulling out a fat book with a thick brown cover, she blew over the front and immediately coughed at the amount of dust settled on it. Her spare hand immediately went for rescue and waved in front of the nose to remove the foreign particles that made her sneeze.

Once she regained her breath, she moves her long and pale fingers over the beautiful cover. The golden letters engraved on the thick leather, left her mesmerized. She consecutively traced a golden rose drawn at another corner.

‘DEVIL’S REDEMPTION’

The cover screamed, and she eagerly took her place back on the same chair. As she opened the first page, a dried rose fell from within the book. Smiling, she picked it up and gently placed it back on its original position. The dried rose has withered from the edges and will soon turn into dust. The rose belonged to her deceased mother, the queen of Alvar. Her father gifted this book to her mother a long time ago with a red rose as she loved them.

Katrina entered the princess’s private sanctum holding a glass of lukewarm milk. Keeping it silently on the nearby table, she opened the curtains of the balcony that faced the gardens. When the curtains were tucked at the side, the prominent cacophony of rain flooded the room. Valentina inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the natural essence. It was still raining, and by watching the skies, Katrina was sure that it won’t stop soon. This worried her, but she soothed her heart saying how much they needed it. They must have died of thirst by now if the heavens wouldn’t have opened their gates.

Watching the princess focused on the book, Valentina bowed and left without making any noise. Lifting her little daughter from the antique carpet of Princess’s chamber, she went to a small bed at the corner of the room and laid there until the sleep broke on their eyelids.

The princess was already engrossed in understanding the words that were written so beautifully. It melted her heart. She felt connected to the characters deeply and understood their dilemma.   As much as the male protagonist intrigued her, she appreciated the fierce spirit of the female who fought all the odds strongly and was smart enough to think rationally and choosing her priorities. Her father’s taste in books was predictable. If she had known it to be this good, she must have read it a long time back.

Deeply lost in the story, when she turned the page to know the next part, the sharp edge of paper cuts her soft fingers and draws out concerning blood. Valentina frowned, not understanding the situation as the book was years old and worn out from being used multiple times. How it came to slit her skin? She clicks her tongue in distress when the blood of her fingers drops on the white pages and smudges the small words.

A sharp gust of air from the balcony breaks inside her chambers, startling her. The lantern and the glass of milk resting on the table falls because of the force and shatters into small pieces. The flames of the fallen lantern get extinguished when it comes in contact with spread milk, and the area around the princess turns dark.

Tears leaked from her eyes as an immense pain erupts in her chest. The Devil’s Redemption in her hands was quickly soaking the blood oozing from her fingers. But it wasn’t the pain or blood that became the reason for her distress. It was the wallow of her father’s horse, which rang in front of the gateways of the fort, in the dark of a rainy night. Have they arrived before time, or was it too late?