Chapter 7
Loneliness was something every royal knew of. It was our friend. Our wolf that would crawl into our bed every night and warm our feet. But humiliation… that was a feeling I had never tasted before. Bitter and sharp at the same time, it choked me in its rage and shame.
Humiliation followed me now like the most loyal shadow as I walked through the city with my head lowered, wearing a dress barely thrown over my shoulders.
Every glance felt as if I were seeing this city for the first time.
I no longer saw colors and people smiling, only outstretched hands begging for a mere copper coin.
Hungry children, barefoot and almost naked, ran past me asking for a crust of bread. Around them walked people wrapped in silks and cotton.
My humiliation and I were clothed in the truth I had finally seen for the first time.
I wrapped my arms around myself and lowered my gaze when I saw a mother nursing a newborn at her breast while her outstretched hand reached toward the silks and cotton passing by. I approached her quietly and placed a few gold coins and some silver in her hand.
Meera had been right, I always carried them with me. They were always there to remind me that I was not poor, no matter what clothes I wore across my chest.
I crouched in front of her and closed her fist around the coins. I looked at her baby, still clinging to her breast, and smiled softly.
“This will help you. At least for a few weeks.”
Before she even looked into her hand, I stood and walked away.
Humiliation did not leave me still. It did not stay with that woman or with her child. It did not follow the silks or the cotton.
Why would it?
It belonged to me. For it was mine and only mine.
Maybe it would always be mine and follow me forever, but now I would look it in the face. While eating the most expensive food and dressing in the finest fabrics, I would look it in the face and be grateful for it.
My humiliation, named Meera, would now become the final layer of my clothing. The last necklace or the finest earring I would put on. Loneliness would warm me at night, but humiliation would become my new sun.
For humiliation would grow into humility, and humility into kindness.
I hadn’t even noticed how far I had wandered from the castle until I came upon the stone path that led along the sea and through the forest. I hadn’t noticed how fiercely the waves crashed against the shore, nor the seagulls circling and crying over the blue.
The wind, carrying the scent of the sea and the freshness of its droplets, struck my face and tangled my hair. Alone with my loneliness, I sat down on a bench and sighed.
Once again, as if carried by the wind, everything returned to my mind. Every word Meera had said. Every look. Every movement of mine. The blow to the chest of an innocent servant.
Why had I done that? Why?
Meera had been completely right, and I hated myself for not seeing it earlier. Even about the sisters. Even about Sando. I could not accept even one guard following me, and for what reason?
Because I was spoiled. A spoiled princ—
“Is this seat taken?” a voice above me said.
My heart skipped, and I couldn’t stop the scream that escaped my mouth as I jumped from the bench. Loud laughter echoed as my hand flew to my chest where my heart was beating wildly. “So… may I sit?” Lys asked, his head tilted and a wide smile on his face.
My knees gave out and I fell back onto the bench. I only managed to nod. “You scared me,” I managed to say.
He laughed again and sat very close beside me.
Now my heart was beating for a slightly different reason. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “We haven’t seen each other in a while. Since the tavern when—”
“I’m sorry, my sister is a bit…”
“Overprotective?” he offered.
“You could say that.”
I finally gathered the courage to look at his face and saw that he had already been looking at me. His eyes moved across my face, studying every part of me.
Finally, he frowned slightly. “What happened? You seem sad.”
I shrugged as I searched for the right words.
“I haven’t been the best daughter… you could say that. I didn’t understand what had been done for me and what had been given to me. Now I see.” He looked toward the sea and folded his fingers over his knees. He leaned forward slightly, causing his carefully arranged curls to fall over his face.
He turned toward me again. On his cheeks, I noticed the faintest kiss of pink that could easily be mistaken for the bite of the wind.
“Tell me. What’s troubling you?” he said softly.
I looked into his eyes, then lowered my gaze again. I felt ashamed to complain about this now. What would I even say? That I was angry because I pushed a servant? That it hurt because my sister told me the truth? Or that humiliation burned inside me because of everything?
“I’m angry at myself,” I finally said.
He only nodded for me to continue. In his eyes I saw no anger or disgust, only patience and soft kindness.
“I’m angry because I took everything for granted. All the kindness that was given to me. I was a bad person… truly bad.”
He didn’t wait even a moment before saying,
“And why do you think you’re so bad?”
He tilted his head as if my words truly made no sense to him.
“Well… you came up to me and gave me a knife. You taught a complete stranger and helped him. Then you took me with you and spent the whole day with me. You know, after that, I didn’t speak to anyone, didn’t meet any friends. People here are rather cold… but you weren’t. You showed me kindness…
so how could you be bad?”
“There are things you don’t know about me,” I said quietly.
I saw him slowly reach out his hand, but he stopped before touching me. He opened his mouth to say something, but that pinkness spread across his cheeks again. Soft like the kiss of spring sunlight. Almost invisible.
“You know… for years I’ve been alone. Without friends or family. All of mine died long ago…”
He drifted into his thoughts.
“I had a sister once… and she died, and then… my mother died and my father and… well… I was left alone…”
He stumbled over the words.
I saw the sadness gathering in his eyes, and without thinking, I leaned forward and took both his hands in mine, squeezing them gently. My heart pounded when I felt his rough skin, hands clearly worn from years of hard work, relax inside mine.
Through unshed tears, he smiled faintly.
“…and I was alone, and then I met a stranger who taught me how to open shells… so how could she be bad?” A tear rolled down his cheek.
I hadn’t even noticed that I was crying too until he pulled his hand from mine and wiped it away. Then he pulled me into a warm embrace.
He had no idea.