by Ross Buzzell
“This is to be worn around your neck only; my father’s science theorizes that if this stone is worn by a member of the Lorian family. It would awaken the glorious, yet destructive power that lives within.”
Na’era’s words are directed straight at the prince. Konner’s mother slowly approaches Na’era before she graciously takes the chain. Turning she approaches her son and drapes the chain around his neck before clasping it. As she releases the necklace the full weight of the ring falls tight against the chain. A sensation of surprise grasps Konner as he did not realize the true weight of the ring. Konner’s mother turns back to Na’era with a smile.
“Thank you; tell your father we welcome you into our home and into our hearts with open arms.”
she approaches Na’era and embraces her like a daughter. The High King gently places his hand on her shoulder with a reassured smile. The two turn to exit the ballroom, Konner approaches the princess.
“Thank you, Na’era, for the gift. It is greatly appreciated.”
she curtsies before him.
“You are welcome my lord.”
Konner takes a deep breath. Her referring to him as her ‘lord’ makes his skin crawl. To him, it is so very wrong. Before the prince has the chance to tell her he only wishes to be her equal, the High Kings voice belts out for him.
“Come Konner. It is bad fortune to speak with the bride this close to the wedding.”
Konner sighs as the sensation of entrapment begins to set in. In silence, Konner bows slightly to Na’era, she follows suit. The prince turns and walks toward the exit of the ballroom with his parents, as servants enter to aid Na’era in any way she needs. Exhausted from the events of the evening, Konner splits away from his parents without a word and begins to head toward his quarters. Konner strides down the corridors with grace, cape flapping purposefully behind him as he reflects on his life. Many times has the prince been spent physically to the point of passing out, all due to training or battle. Never before has he been so tired from actually having fun, from enjoying himself so much. Having danced, ate and celebrated with his people, as one of his people instead of a superior, Konner’s’ body is fatigued but it has done so with joy.
Konner makes his way to his room. As he enters his desolate chambers, his armor evaporates into azure energy that dances around him. With a smile on his face, the worn prince walks over to his bed, pulls back the sheets and climbs in before falling into a deep sleep. The princes’ rest comes swiftly and without dreams, sinking into the abyss of unconsciousness. Konner fully rests for the first time in a long while. Konner awakes to a rustling in his room. Slowly the prince opens his eyes. Blinking the room into focus, Konner sees figures moving about. As his vision focuses a single figure catches his attention, his father who stands towering at the foot of his bed.
“May I speak with my son…”
The Kings voice is low and commanding.
“…alone.”
His words are no question but rather a command; quickly the servants leave the room. Konner, now alone with his father sits up. He rubs his head as the fog of sleep rapidly clears.
“I need to talk to you about Na’era.”
Konner throws back the sheets. He sits up, wearing only a pair of tight shorts that hug down to his mid-thigh.
“I understand this is a delicate situation.”
“There is nothing delicate about it.”
Konner retorts without a moment’s hesitation.
“Fas’era is a long standing friend of our family. He has shared his science with all of Boron and his daughter Na’era…”
Konner interrupts as he feels his father torturously ripping away his free will to choose.
“I have nothing against Na’era, nor her father Fas… it’s the marriage.”
The High King takes a step forward, his voice becomes stern.
“When we talk about your future Konner, we are not just talking about your personal happiness, but the safety and security of Boron and her allies! You may one day be a husband, but you WILL one day be High King!”
Konner stands and faces his father eye to eye, not willing to relent just yet as his chest fills with the vigor required to argue with the High King. His father turns and begins to walk from the prince’s chambers.
“I have no feelings for her, whatsoever!”
The High King turns briefly and nearly growls at his son.
“I would encourage you to find some.”
With that the door to Konner’s chambers slams. The prince stressfully rubs his brow with his hand before aggressively scratching the back of his head, a trait Konner had developed in an attempt to release frustration over control being stripped from him without lashing out. Konner frustratingly marches to the wash room and activates the shower. He stands in silence as the water pours over him. The words his mother and father had been unrelenting to him, playing over and over within his mind, gradually crushing his will.
The next week goes by like a blur for the prince. With no choice in the matter, a hollow emptiness consumes the prince as he walks around the palace attending his duties with none of his usual luster. While all notice, none say anything. Na’era and Konner’s paths cross a few times. As accustomed in Boronian culture neither speaks with one another but rather find alternative ways to communicate their feelings about the wedding. As the days roll by, Konner realizes that she feels the same way that he does, just as trapped in tradition by her father as Konner is by his. Ultimately they yield to their duties as leaders and decide to go through with the wedding for the people, even if neither have any real choice.
Faster than Konner would desire the week comes to a close and Konner finds himself standing on a pedestal as an elderly woman walks around him ensuring that the wedding garments he has been adorned in are perfect. The woman does not look up at Konner; she only keeps her eyes on her work. The prince takes a deep breath as his mind whirls with doubt of whether he is doing the right thing. His heart pounds in his chest as it heaves with every deep breath. Clearly his nerves are apparent to the seamstress as she exclaims.
“Stop your fidgeting, otherwise you might get pricked.”
Konner laughs a little and nods.
“I’m sorry.”
she tugs at Konner’s garb.
“Don’t be sorry, just be still.”
The nervous prince takes one more shallow breath before he stands in silence to let her finish. Within moments she is done.
“There you are sire, have a look.”
The seamstress steps back which allows Konner to walk from the pedestal to a mirror. The prince looks at his reflection. Grey robes gracefully fall over his body which is covered by a black cloak made of dragon scales that taper off into silk as it grows closer to the floor. Konner looks over to the seamstress before he gives her a nod of approval.
“It is wonderful. Thank you.”
she bows to Konner who no longer has the wherewithal to ask for no one to bow before him. Torture he can handle. Enemies causing indescribable pain would not break him. But the unrelenting force that is his parents, the prince cannot resist. For once the prince’s will is broken and not by an enemy. Konner turns and begins to leave the room as the seamstress’s voice calls out to him.
“Anything for you, my lord?”
Konner sighs as he makes his way to the main ballroom. The prince does not pay attention to the lines of guards that fill the hallways nor the decorations that adorn the walls. He only focuses on making his way to the altar. As Konner reaches the ballroom doors, he is greeted by Man’Sanfur and Disa’ani, both of which Konner has not seen since the rescue of Na’era. Both are in slightly different variations of their armors. For the first time in a week a genuine smile comes to Konner’s face.
“Man’Sanfur, Disa’ani, it is wonderful to see you. Where have you been?”
Disa’ani has a proud smile on his face from behind his helmet.
“Since the Cryptea has been disbanded your father has made me general
of his personal guard until you can reassemble the Paladin.”
“And I have been placed in charge of training those who fail out of the Sol’lor Academy, to form their own corps that can be used by the High King.”
Konner smiles and shakes the forearms of both men.
“So it goes well for both of you then.”
Both men nod.
“Absolutely, now go, the ceremony awaits for you.”
Disa’ani declares. Konner takes a deep breath and shakes his head as his two friends open the ballroom doors. As the doors open, the vision of a full ballroom falls into Konner’s field of vision, with every important Boronian present and to Konner, everyone else on the planet. The entire audience stands up and faces the prince before all bowing to him. A massive knot wrenches itself within his gut. Konner takes a deep breath as he steps into the ceremony. The prince’s eyes traverse the massive hall, as the flower petals, drown the isle before him, and muffle each of his steps. Arches of flowers consisting of many unimaginable colors create a path for the prince to walk down as they are spaced evenly before him. Decorations drape themselves gracefully around the pillars before him, the light of the day sun bath’s the alter. The High Emissary and Na’era, who is adorned in silken white robes that flow from her body like a river and onto the alters steps. Konner’s eyes venture from the base of the train. He observes how the lace playfully dances, around the edge of the dress only to flow and twist like waves as it climbs up the princess’ body before cupping her like a breaking tide at the top. Her shoulders are covered in a shawl of white fir as pure as untouched snow, which contrasts starkly with her tanned skin.
Konner’s heart pounds as mild panic begins to set in. Being in a situation where there is no choice is hard enough, but being forced into a situation where choice is taken from him is suffocating for the prince. “Duty before self.” The prince thinks to himself as he continues to walk down the aisle, past every man, woman and child who has come to celebrate. As the prince approaches Na’era and he is able to get a close look at the beautiful woman, her attributes are not lost on him. No matter how stunning she is, however, he feels no romantic connection to the princess. And as their eyes meet, he can see that she feels the same. The prince takes his place on the alter, his father and mother in their places behind him, over Na’era’s shoulder, Konner sees her parents in a mirrored position of his own. The High Emissary begins to speak out. He addresses the crowd as he keeps his eyes scanning over everyone, almost intentionally ignoring Na’era and Konner.
“Thank you all for attending this historic occasion. It means so much to the Lorian and Era families that you would make the trip from different parts of the planet, even the galaxy, to participate in celebrating the union of our future High King.”
Konner allows his gaze to venture to the crowd where all eyes are on Na’era and himself. Hundreds, if not thousands of eyes stare with anticipation at the prince and princess, with such intensity Konner can almost feel their looks boring holes within him. Konner’s attention is brought back forward as the High Emissary grasps his hand and Na’era’s hand before turning them to one another. As the princess’s soft skin touches Konner, the prince allows his eyes to lock with Na’era. Konner could see that she is clearly telling herself the same thing he is, that duty comes before self. The High Emissary’s words fall upon Konner’s deaf ears as the prince stands in un-wanting silence. The Emissary draws a piece of azure blue cloth from a small table on the alter next to him. He holds the cloth up. During the ceremony this is when the High Emissary would ask if anyone objects. Konner listens closely for the opportunity. His breath holds tightly in his chest.
“The intertwined fabric of this cloth represents the intertwining of these two into one. As two threads alone are weak so are we as individuals, but combine it with another and another and the bonds become strong. This is the family. It strengthens us, makes us better than we are by ourselves and as such, I bind you two together as one for all of time.”
Konner’s heart skips a beat. The window never comes. He looks over at Na’era who is just as rattled as he is. Konner forces himself to smile as the High Emissary places the cloth on their hands. Na’era fakes one as well as she blinks back tears that glisten within her clear eyes. Konner feels his hand pressed firmly against Na’era’s as the cloth is tightened against them.
“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
Konner hesitates for a moment. Na’era and he lock eyes. As he does not move toward her, she nods, giving him permission. Konner leans forward. He presses his lips against hers. The prince notes how her lips are as soft as royal silk as they cement their arranged marriage in a forced kiss that is hardly convincing. Slowly they break the kiss and turn to the crowd. Their hands still bound together between them. Konner lifts their bound arms up. Everyone cheers in joy at the completion of their union. Konner’s eyes scan the crowd. Among them he sees friends, family, his teachers, all of whom have smiles on their faces and cheer for their prince. Amongst the crowd of overjoyed citizens, the prince sees only two faces that hold comfort for him, Bara’Helor and Jil’Thorin, neither of which are smiling or cheering but rather empathizing with both Konner and Na’era, with a tormented expression strewn across their faces.
Konner looks over at Na’era. He can see on her face she has the same gut wrenching feeling and passionate desire to no longer be a part of the public spectacle. Konner drops Na’era’s hand and as the recessional music begins to play, they begin to run down the aisle, past the cheering crowd, under the archways of flowers and past the blurs of lights in a desperate attempt to just be free. In moments Konner finds himself in a corridor with Na’era, Man’Sanfur and Disa’ani are present as guards for the couple. Konner looks behind Na’era and into another room that is set up for a feast. The prince is able to see little through the slightly opened door and decorations, but with the crushing feelings that consume the newlyweds, a feast is the last thing either wish to endure. Konner looks to Disa’ani and Man’Sanfur, both of whom conduct themselves in a professional manner, neither congratulating nor celebrating but strictly present for protection.
“Please leave us my friends.”
Konner speaks softly. The prince need say nothing more. The look on his face speaks more than his words. Without a moment to lose, Disa’ani and Man’Sanfur walk around the newlyweds and into the banquet hall. Konner’s gaze follows.
“That is the last place I wish to be.”
Konner says softly. Na’era’s voice echoes in an almost defeated whisper.
“Likewise, please do not force me to attend the banquet.”
Her words reverberate with the same pleading and yearning that Konner himself feels, Konner shakes his head before he quietly speaks to his new bride.
“You have been forced into something you do not wish once today, and that is more than enough.”
Konner’s eyes scan the corridor. The murmur of the crowd begins to grow as they get closer to them. Konner’s mind races as he attempts to think of an excuse to get the two out of the feast and the public eye for the night. Quickly Konner moves past Na’era. Their hands still bound together, she is pulled behind him.
“Where are we going?”
The princess asks in a curious yet demanding voice.
“The only place where we will not be disturbed, my quarters.”
Na’era stops for a moment. She pulls on her arm which is still attached to Konner, this brings Konner to a halt as well. Her force gives Konner a jerk and he spins around and faces the emotionally defeated princess.
“We are not! You may be the High Prince and I may be your wife but I refuse to be forced to…”
Konner interrupts the understandably upset princess.
“Na’era I am with you, but the only way that we will be left alone by those thousands of guests, is if they believe we have begun to work on producing an heir.”
Na’era’s mouth moves to rebuttal but she pauses for a momen
t. The noise of the crowd grows louder. Konner gives their bound hands a gentle tug. The princess gives way and follows her groom down the corridor and into his chambers. Once they are safely inside Konner’s room, the prince uses his free hand to shut the door behind them and lock it shut. He feels Na’era fumble at their bound hands in an attempt to free her from him. As the princess is successful and the cloth falls to the ground. Na’era staggers back near the fire place and begins to cry softly. Upon the sight of his once childhood friend in such distress, the prince’s heart breaks for her. Wanting to go and comfort her but knowing that any contact from him would only exacerbate her distress, Konner feels as if he is being torn in two from within.