A Prince's Pride

*Milo*

I open my eyes in a panic, waking from a horrible nightmare. I don't remember anything of it but the ending, in which Aaron died. I don’t realize until I’m sitting up that I’m clutching his pillow to my chest as if it’s him and by holding him for dear life, I can keep him from dying.

A knock sounds on Aaron’s door and I hear my guard’s voice call out, “Are you okay, Milo?”

I wonder if I was calling out in my sleep when I was shouting Aaron’s name as he bled to death in my arms.

“I’m fine!” I call back. “Just a nightmare!”

“I’ll be out here if you need anything,” he says. I haven’t caught his name, and I don’t care what it is. He’s one of the Crown Guards, so he knows about me and Aaron. 

I suddenly start to realize how many people know about us: Oswald, Delgara, Riley, Elaine, everyone on the Small Council, and the whole of the Crown Guards which contain at least thirty people. I feel too seen all of a sudden, like the eyes of the city are upon me. Which I suppose they are. There are plenty of people in the city, hell, the country, who believe the rumors spread around and that Aaron and I are together. Is it a rumor, even if it’s true?

I hope we still are together... I should have told him a long time ago about knowing Criston was in the Red Hand. I bury my face into his pillow and take a deep breath of his scent, wondering where he is now. If he’s found Criston. If he’s alright.

After a quick shower, I step out into the corridor. The Crown Guard there stands with his red armor, lined with gold, the Heris Family Crest emblazoned on his chest.

“Where to, Milo?” he asks.

“The Queen’s room.”

He nods as if he’s expected this and leads me through the corridors to her room. I notice many servants giving me odd looks and whispering about me behind their hands. I wonder if they think I was put on house arrest because they think I did something wrong or because they believe the rumors about us being together and thinks Aaron wants to keep me safe.

I know Aaron. He’s keeping me on house arrest so I won’t try to run like I did when Corianne found us. But I wouldn’t have run. I want nothing more than to make things right between me and Aaron. I will wait for his return, we’ll talk, and everything will be okay. Won’t it?

When we reach Elaine’s room, I find the door already open. She’s inside with Mirra, who sounds exasperated as she holds the plate of food, containing a breakfast sandwich and some diced mango on it.

“Please, Your Majesty,” begs Mirra, “you have to eat. Just three bites of the sandwich and I’ll leave.”

“No! I know it was made by Criston. I can smell him on it. I won’t do it. He’s trying to poison me.”

“It isn’t poison, Your Majesty, it’s just food.”

“Then you eat it!” says Elaine.

“The Princess wants you to eat, Your Majesty.”

“I am the queen! If I do not want to eat, I won’t.”

“You’re not a reigning monarch anymore, Elaine,” I say. 

“Milo!” says Elaine, her wild expression vanishes and changes instantly into a motherly smile when she sees me. “We should begin work right away. I have a new page of notes I want your opinion on.” She points to a page on my side of the table.

“Can you help me?” Mirra whispers, holding out the plate to me. I take it from her with a nod. “Thank you,” she says as she heads for the door. She seems upset and I can certainly understand why. She’s been serving Elaine for nearly six years and it must be heartbreaking to her that Elaine doesn’t recognize her. On her way out, Mirra shuts the door behind her.

“I would love to read these notes, Elaine, but you know we don’t do our best work when we’re hungry. The hyenas can smell the hunger.”

“You’re right!” she says, then takes the plate when I hand it to her and starts to eat. 

I pick up the page she pointed to and read it.

Oh, they think they can get me. They think they’ve beaten Queen Elaine Heris, but they haven’t. I wasn’t called the Righteous Queen for nothing. I wonder if Milo knows Aaron fancies him, I must tell him. The children in the square stare at me when I look out my window. I’m sure they’re chickens in disguise. It would be much easier for chickens to impersonate a child, everyone knows that. Milo hasn’t come to see me in so long, I’m getting worried. I do love both my sons very much. I’ll have them build me a chicken coop when Aaron and Criston come back from their vacation. I wonder if a hyena can live in a chicken coop. Oh, what am I saying? Of course they can’t. Chickens live in chicken coops, hyenas live in hyena coops, everyone knows that. Daisies, daffodils, roses, forget me nots. Don’t forget me when I’m gone. I haven’t forgotten him. He whispers to me from between the folds of fabric in my closet, commanding spiders into my brain. I wonder if hyenas eat spiders. I must ask Milo for his spider stew recipe. The children will love it.

At the bottom of this page, she’s written the word “Trust” and circled it. Lines come off this circle, each with another circle at the end. In these circles, she’s written “Aaron”, “Milo”, “Riley”, “Rabbits”, “Chickens”, “Hyenas”, and “Mirra”. She’s drawn an X over the bubbles containing rabbits, chickens, hyenas, and Mirra.

I look up at her to see her gazing at me expectantly.

“You understand, don’t you?” she asks, holding her hand out for the page. I hand it to her with a nod. Without turning her head away from me, she balls the paper up and throws it into the fire.

She doesn’t trust Mirra for some reason. I look at the plate and see all the food has been eaten. Is Mirra doing something to her food, or is it just Elaine’s psychosis? Even if Mirra were doing something, how would Elaine know? No, I’m being silly. I’ve spent too much time cooped up with Elaine. She’s rubbing off on me.

“Hit the deck!” Elaine yells. Instinctively, I go to throw myself under the table, but land on my back. There are no less than twenty knives taped to the underside of the table. I hear the thunk as another one lands in Elaine’s closet.

By the time I stand, I see Elaine storm into her closet. She starts ripping her dresses off their hangers, throwing them into her room. I move to the closet and see her standing at the back, running her hands over the wood, which is gouged with marks.

“Do you see, Milo?” she asks, turning on me, her eyes bugging out again. “He’s destroying my things. Look at these marks. Wait a moment…” She runs her hands more slowly over the marks. “It’s a message! He’s trying to tell me something.”

“Mother,” I say in a stern voice, trying to get her back to reality. It works. She turns to me, sadness in her eyes. She stumbles forward and hugs me squeezing me with her arms.

“I don’t know what’s happening to me, Milo. Why is this happening to me?”

“Zelda says it’s grief.”

“What do I have to grieve about?” she says in a confused voice, breaking away from me to look me in my face.

“Your husband’s death.”

Her eyes go out of focus as she stares at me, as though she can’t possibly comprehend what I just said. Ten seconds pass. Then twenty. Then thirty.

“We should find out where the chickens are coming from,” she says, letting me go.

I’m not surprised she doesn’t remember her husband’s death. Anytime she or anyone else has mentioned King Theodore, she goes wild and usually throws a dagger into her closet.

“You know, Elaine, it might be a good idea if we get out of your room for a while. If he’s really leaving you messages, let’s let him finish it. Then, we’ll know what the chickens are up to.”

“Chickens?” says Elaine, sounding incredulous. “Chickens have nothing to do with this. It’s the hyenas, they’re pulling the chicken's strings. That’s why we need a chicken coop.” She taps her temple with her index finger in a knowing way. 

“Let’s go to court. But you have to be quiet. If you say too much, the hyenas will know we’re on to them.”

“You’re right!” she says, then crosses to her closet. She pulls out a dress that’s perfectly intact. I recognize it at once. It’s the same dress she was wearing the night King Theodore died. Before I can say anything, she strips down in front of me. I try to avert my eyes, but I’m afraid to look away from her. Afraid of what she might do, so I keep my peripheral vision on her.

“I need your help, Milo. I can’t reach the zipper.”

I turn and see she’s covered before walking behind her and helping her zip up her dress.

“That’s that,” she says and deftly twists her hair into a bun which she secures with two sharp-looking rods in her hair. “To court, then.” Before I can say another word, she sweeps from her room, leaving the door open. I hasten to follow.

We walk quickly through the corridors and I stop a guard we pass on the way. Elaine keeps walking, but my Crown Guard stops when I do.

“Check under the tables in the Queen’s room,” I tell the guard, giving him a significant look. He nods, looking confused, but goes anyway before me and my Crown Guard follow Elaine.

When we approach the throne room, I see the door is already open and we walk in to find Riley, wearing a magnificent gown, standing on the dais, her crown on her head. She looks surprised to see her mother. I don’t wonder why. Elaine hasn’t left her room for more than the time it takes her to use the bathroom since her husband died. I stay close to her, knowing she’s calmer by my side.

“Mother!” Princess Riley says, sounding happy to see her, but shoots me a questioning look. 

Elaine strides up to her daughter and wraps her arms around her. I’m the only one close enough to hear Elaine whisper, “Act natural, the hyenas are watching,” before she sweeps off up the dais and sits on her throne, back straight, and still as a statue.

“What is she doing here?” Riley demands in a whisper when Elaine is out of earshot.

“Zelda said it might be good for her to get out and follow her normal routine. She always sat court with King Theodore. I’ll keep her under control, I promise. Can I stand on the dais?”

“You’d better had. We’re starting soon. I’m surprised you’re here. The docket is full today.” 

I roll my eyes in annoyance. That means we’ll be here for hours and hours.

“You told me I needed to be here,” I remind her.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come, but it serves you right, bringing my mother.”

“Maybe we’ll just go back to her room.”

“Oh, no you won’t. If I have to sit here today, so do you.”

“Your Highness,” says a guard near the door, “the first petitioner is here to see you.”

Princess Riley gives me a satisfied smile as we walk up the dais and she sits on Aaron’s throne. I walk over and stand between Riley and Elaine’s thrones, my hands behind my back, my head held high.

“And so starts the dance of the hyenas,” whispers Elaine.

*Aaron*

I know I’m falling from the cliff, though my sense are thrown into chaos as I tumble over backwards. I’m not sure which way is up or down as I feel my back hit the edge of the cliff. When I go over, I feel my feet slam into the face of the cliff, but I don’t keep falling. I think I’m suspended in midair until I look up and see that I’ve instinctively clutched onto a massive root sticking out. 

Criston pokes his head over the cliff and gives a dry laugh.

“Still alive, are you?” he says with a chuckle. He spits and a great glob on the stuff hits me square on the nose before running down the side of my face. “Well, I can change that.” 

I’ve never felt fear like this. If I let go, I will surely die. Criston holds his sword and looks at my hand. He’s going to cut my fingers, force me to fall. All I can think about is Milo. The last thing I ever did was shout at him, blame him for my father’s death. That can’t be the last thing I ever say to him. It just can’t! 

“Should be fun,” continues Criston, “I’ve never killed a king before.” He swings his sword down at the root. I let go with one hand and his sword strikes the wood. I’m able to swing my hand up and grip the root again before he can swing at the other.

“Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever killed a fag—” Criston’s words are cut off as a sword protrudes from stomach on the right side. From where it’s sticking out, I know it hasn’t hit any major organs. Whoever stabbed him is making sure he doesn’t die this way. The blade leaves his body and I see Criston jerked away. I hear him thud to the ground a moment before Oswald pokes his head over the side of the cliff.

“Your Majesty!” he says, holding his hand out to me. I grab it and whether Oswald is just that strong or he has adrenaline pumping through him, I don’t know, but he pulls me up as easily as if I were a rag doll and deposits me on the ground. 

I pull Oswald’s spare sword from its sheathe and bring it up just in time to block Criston’s sword as it aims for my head.

“Leave him to me, Oswald!” I shout. Oswald steps back. 

“You’re going to die today, you filthy little faggot! Desparager of the Teachings of Shevor! A man and woman are to be as one! Two men who do the same are an abomination and should be put to fire. Falling to your death would have been a mercy. Now, I’ll show you none.”

“You’ll get none from me, Criston. You’ve committed treason, murder and—”

“You’re just mad that I almost killed your pretty little boyfriend. After you, I’m going to find Milo and cut his cock off. Maybe, if you’re still alive, I can shove it up your ass. That’s probably where you like it anyway.”

“You’re right, actually,” I say, and feel a pang of satisfaction as Criston’s face twists in disgust. “I’d prefer if it stay attached to his body, though. More fun that way, you see.”

“You disgusting degenerate!” Criston roars, charging at me. I drop to a knee and swing my sword up. I feel the slightest resistance as the blade sinks into his flesh and his sword falls to the ground, his hand still clutching the handle. I’m sprayed with Criston’s blood, some of it getting in my eyes. I stagger back and hurriedly wipe the thick warm from my face. When I can see, I barely have enough time to react to Criston charging after me again. He’s going to tackle me, to take us both over the edge.

When Criston collides with me, I grab his shoulders, roll onto my back, and do a half backward roll, kicking him off me and over the side of the cliff. I hear him hit rock after rock on his way down to the bottom.

I climb shakily to my feet, my blood pumping hard. I have never been that close to dying in my life.

“Are you alright, Your Majesty?” asks Oswald, walking up to me. I nod and look toward the cliff.

When I walk to the edge and look down, I see Criston’s still alive somehow, though badly broken. He uses his one good arm to grip a fistful of ground and drag himself along, his useless legs nothing but dead weight behind him. Every inch he moves seems to cause him terrible agony. He screams every time he drags his body forward, the sound reverberating up the cliffside.

One of my archers comes up beside me, notches an arrow, and takes aim.

“No, give it to me,” I order. She obeys at once.

I notch the arrow and pull the string back, aiming for Criston’s head. He seems to give up on trying to flee. Instead, he twists his body and looks up at me. I don’t know if it’s my imagination, or if his eye is really that bright, shining in the morning light, but I swear I can see the blue of his one open eye as he looks up blearily at me.

He raises his hand, his middle finger pointing up at me. I feel an immense wave of satisfaction envelope me as the arrow pierces his eye.

***

When I return to the front of the cabin, I find my soldiers waiting for me, all of them alive and happy, except for one dead SOA. I can tell from how short he is that it isn’t Exavier. Several members of the Red Hand lay dead on the ground, many more still are tied and gagged.

“Round them up and take them to the capital to stand trial for their crimes,” I order. “Oswald and I are going ahead.”

“Your Majesty, surely we should rest after—,” begins Oswald, but I don’t listen. I know he’ll follow me. We jog to the nearby village where I’m instantly recognized by several citizens. I make my way to the stable there and a man bows to me.

“I need your two fastest horses, now. The Crown will send payment for them later.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” says the man. He points them out to us and we climb on, not bothering to saddle them.

“Aaron!” Oswald calls after me, him on his horse, me on mine. “What are we doing?”

“No time to talk. To the palace, now!”

Never in my life have I ever ridden this hard. I know I’m going to be hurting, but I have to get to the palace straight away. I had a revelation or epiphany, or whatever when I was hanging over that ledge. 

I have to get to Milo.

Long before I reach Crown City, my ass and groin are hurting from the saddleless horse, but I feel apart from the pain. I feel the blood rushing in my ears, my heart pounding as if it wants nothing more than to break free from my chest and seek Milo down.

I run, ignoring my screaming thighs, into the palace.

“Where is Milo?” I shout as I run past one of the Crown Guards near the entry to the palace.

“Throne room!” I hear behind me. I turn and start running that way and see the doors are shut.

“Open the doors!” I shout, trying to catch my breath as I run. I hear Oswald behind me, trying to keep up, but I’ve always been much faster than him.

“Sire,” the guard says, “your sister is—”

“I don’t care!” I say when I come to a stop, holding the stitch in my side. “Open the doors.”

When they’re thrown open, I see court is in session. This gives me slight pause, but I’ve already made my decision and everyone is going to hear about it anyway. I hear many footsteps behind me and turn to see a dozen Crown Guards following Oswald. They must think there’s some kind of emergency happening.

“Aaron, what is the meaning of this?” asks Riley, standing from my throne. I ignore her as I make my way up the dais and stand in front of Milo, who looks at me in horror.

“You’re covered in blood,” he says, almost reaching out to me, but thinking better of it.

I close the distance between us, grab his head in my hands, and kiss him.

Time stops when our lips touch. In this moment, it’s only us two. Time stretches into infinity as we embrace one another. I break away from him and see his stunned face turn toward the people of the crowd. They’re all whispering and I’m aware of at least one person gasping, but I don’t care. They’re nothing to me.

“Milo,” I say. “I almost died today and the last thing I did when we were together was shout at you. I’m done with the sneaking around and pretending. I don’t care what’s happened between us, our stupid fight. I don’t care what anyone else says or thinks about us. I love you more than anything and I’m tired of not being able to say it when I want, how I want, and in front of who I want.”

I clutch his hand and drop to one knee.

“Milo Trainor, I love you and I can’t live another second of my life without you as my husband. Will you marry me?”

All is silent. I can feel the eyes of the crowd, of my sister, of my mother on me, but they mean nothing. The only thing I care about is the next word that comes out of Milo’s mouth. The word that will seal our future. 

I wait with bated breath for his answer.