Eternal Spring A Young Adult Short Story Collection (13 page)

"Because you seem so lonely," Bunny replies.
"If I were Queen of Thrace, I'd have a wonderful time. I'd order everyone
to do my bidding. I'd wear sparkling jewels. I'd visit all my lands--you do
have lands, don't you?"

Part of the betrothal arrangement provided that I should own
lands surrounding the city of Ephesus. I was eager to ride out to see them, and
not only because it meant I would see Cassander in the stables before mounting
my horse.

"Anyway," Bunny continues. "I thought maybe I
can be your sister here in Thrace." Her upturned nose twitches in delight.
"Yes, sisters. We'll watch out for one another and keep each other's
secrets. That's what sisters do, isn't it?"

"I'd like that," I say with a hopeful sigh.

"
I
have a secret. Of course, it isn't really mine."

"Whose, then?"

"My brother's. Prince Agathocles. He fears he offended
you at the banquet and that you'll never forgive him."

Did the Prince send his little sister to tell me this? Since
the banquet, I've pretended that Prince Agathocles never said those reckless
things. I'm always polite when we pass one another in the corridors. I never
speak against him; I didn't tell the king. I didn't even confide in Cassander.
"I'm sure anything Prince Agathocles said that night was said in
jest."

"Everyone loves my brother, you know. He cannot bear to
think anyone dislikes him. It pains him like a thorn in the paw of a lion. He
won't be able to sleep until it is plucked out. Will you forgive him?"

Never in my life has anyone asked forgiveness for offending
me. Back in Egypt, I imagined that one day Lysandra would beg my forgiveness.
And that I'd give it to her. Since that may never happen now, I want to forgive
Agathocles, in her place. "Of course."

"Oh, he'll be so pleased. I'll tell him you'll meet him
in the garden beneath the mulberry tree!"

Bunny throws her arms around me, then runs off.

When we meet beneath the mulberry tree, Prince Agathocles is
humble, his head lowered in deference. I don't know why Bunny chose the garden.
There's little privacy here. A hundred servants and soldiers pass by, but at
least they can't hear our words unless they strain to hear.

"I fear that I've made your first days here in Thrace
uncomfortable," Prince Agathocles is saying. "It was never my
intention. I was drunk and can't even remember what I said. But I
am
sorry."

"I forgive you," I say, and feel quite wonderful
as the words come out.

He gives a grateful smile. "Would you tell me, Queen
Arsinoë, what exactly it is that I said?"

"I'd rather we forgot it entirely."

"It's only that I worry--" he cuts off, as if
embarrassed but no blush stains his cheeks. "I fear you'll break my
heart."

Something twists in my belly.

"You see, I love you," he says.

I don't believe him. He's teasing me. And I hate that the
first time I ever hear a man say this to me, it's in jest. In Egypt, many boys
professed their love for Lysandra. She knew how to turn them away, to laugh at
their flattery as if it were nothing. But I don't know what to do. I feel like
a fish on a hook. I'm gasping like one too.

Seeing my panic, Prince Agathocles hastens to add, "But
it's a chaste love."

He says this too late. I lift my skirts and turn to run.
Prince Agathocles chases after me, calling, "I want only your friendship,
Arsinoë! Nothing more."

He has me confused. Rattled. We draw stares from the
gardeners who snip at sprigs of rosemary. The guards at the palace doors turn
their eyes our way, too. I'm embarrassed to even look at him when he catches up
to me. "Just let me go, Prince Agathocles."

"I've offended you again," he says with a dramatic
sigh. "I've made things terrible for you here, and all when I know you
were fearful to come to Thrace."

"Who told you I was fearful?" I ask, biting my
lower lip.

"My bastard brother," Prince Agathocles says.
"Cassander speaks very highly of you."

Just the mention of Cassander's name stops me in my tracks.
"W-what does he say about me?"

Prince Agathocles raises one eyebrow. "Why do you
care?"

I hear myself swallow. I blush. The heat of it sweeps over
me. Watching my face, Prince Agathocles gives a little start. Then something
turns behind his eyes. "Are you fond of Cassander?" When I don't
answer, he says, "He knows how to behave himself better than I do,
surely."

It hurts me to lie, but I must. "I'm no fonder of him
than any boy. It's only that he saved me once, in Egypt. I owe him a debt of
gratitude."

After a long pause, the prince says, "Arsinoë, I've
made a mess of things. Let me make it up to you. If you find Cassander good
company, I'll arrange to have him chaperone you on a tour of your lands."

I've never heard of a stable boy like Cassander serving as a
chaperone to a queen, not even if he is of royal blood. But perhaps things are
done differently in Thrace. Or perhaps I'm simply too eager to see Cassander
again.

Agathocles is good to his
word. He arranges for Cassander to accompany me on my rides. All I must do is
wait until the king is busy with envoys and dismisses me. Then I'm free to slip
away from the harem and visit the stables.

When I go, Styx is always pleased to see me, her tail high.
Adorned with my royal livery, a bridle ornamented with golden lions fit over
her face, she preens. I think Cassander is pleased to see me too, though it's
more difficult to tell. A horse can show disrespect to a king or queen; a groom
must always behave as if he's honored by one's royal presence.

Cassander makes a good choice for a guide, though. He knows
the roads, the streams and the mountain passes of Thrace. He points out the
plants I don't know and tells me about the different Thracian tribes. And
though we always ride out with an accompaniment of the king's soldiers, we
sometimes forget they are there.

I'm now glad that my father insisted I copy the writing's of
Plato because Cassander knows them too. We debate the nature of the soul. Plato
thinks a soul is made up of appetite, reason and spirit. I agree, saying it
explains why people are torn between what they want and what they
should
want.
Cassander scoffs. He says that everyone assumes
their
soul is
ruled by an enlightened spirit
and that everyone else is ruled by animal
desires.

We talk about Egypt, and I even confess my dream that one
day I would become Pharaoh.

Cassander doesn't laugh and that makes me like him even
more.

When we reach one of my estates, Styx breaks into a gallop
over the field. I let her run. Cassander gives chase on his own brown stallion.
The hooves of our horses crash against the ground even as my heartbeat pounds
inside my own breast. I feel giddy as ride and delighted when we stop in an
orchard. Cassander and I pluck apples from the trees, and we're both breathless
and laughing.

"That's my favorite sound," Cassander says, biting
a juicy chunk from the fruit.

I listen, but hear only the wind, the chirp of a bird.
"What sound?"

"Your laughter," he replies.

I blush hotly. With Cassander I'm always blushing.

"
He's very handsome isn't
he?" Bunny asks one night when she finishes teaching me a Thracian dance.

"Hmm?"

"Cassander. He's a groom now, but one day soon he will
join my father's cavalry. He'll make a fine warrior, don't you think? And if he
fights well, the king may grant him lands and a wife."

A
wife
. The thought of some girl in Cassander's arms is so horrible
that I close my eyes.

"It's better if he marries," Bunny chatters on,
oblivious to my distress. "I think it will ease his pains."

"His pains?" I ask, instantly alert.

"Surely you've noticed that Cassander is sick with
love," Bunny says. "He sighs dreamily. He doesn't eat with the rest
of the lads from the stables. And whenever anyone asks him if there's a girl he
fancies, he stammers and stares at his feet."

My breath seems to catch in my throat. "I didn't
know."

"He's not likely to show it before his queen,"
Bunny says. "But I hope the girl he loves is suitable. As the king's
bastard, he must choose wisely. If he fell in love with the wrong girl..."

"What?" I ask, breathless. "What would
happen?"

She motions over her throat with one finger. "If the
girl is unsuitable, she'll lose her head and Cassander will be strangled."

"Oh!" I clap my hand over my mouth. It's too
terrible to contemplate.

Bunny continues. "If he's in love with a shepherd's
daughter, that poses no threat. But if he fell in love with a noblewoman...why people
would think he intended to make a play for the throne."

She doesn't have to tell me this. I know it. These are the
kinds of things my mother always tried to teach me. My mother wanted me to see
rivals. To unravel court intrigue. I never wanted to think that way. I never
wanted to listen to it before and I don't want to hear it now, either. But I
can't close my ears to it. Not if it has to do with Cassander.

"Do you know the name of the girl he loves?" I
ask.

"I think you should ask him," Bunny replies.
"Then you could warn him if the girl is unsuitable. You might save his
life!"

I don't have the
courage to ask Cassander about the girl he loves. I don't go to the stables
that day or the day after. I avoid the feasting hall too. When I see Cassander
in the palace, I turn the other way and disappear. I wish my mother was here. I
wish there was any woman of
any
experience I could turn to. Even Lysandra. If she were here
now, I would humble myself before her and ask her advice.

It takes more than a week before I am brave enough to face
him.

"Your Majesty!" Cassander says, smiling to see me.
"Styx has missed you."

"I've only been away a few days," I say, my eyes
turned away so he cannot see how I love him.

"It seemed much longer than that," he replies.

I clear my throat. "I'm told you're unwell."

"Just an aching heart," he says, his words filled
with unspoken meaning. "Nothing fatal."

I wince and my courage abandons me. If he loves another
girl, it will destroy me. If he loves
me
, it will destroy us both. I must know, but
the knowing will ruin our happiness. Better we never ask anything, never admit
anything. I could be happy with Cassander's friendship. But what if Bunny is
right and he loves an unsuitable girl?

"Cassander, is there--is there anyone you would marry?
If you could?"

His gaze drops to his feet. He is silent for some time. Then
he says, "Yes...if I could."

"Who is she?"

He glances up, only once. "I think you know,
Arsinoë."

Arsinoë
. He should say
Queen Arsinoë
. He should never use my name like
that, without a title. He does it because he loves me, I think. I never
believed Prince Agathocles when he said he loved me.

Cassander has not said it, and yet, I believe.

He loves me!

I never thought I would be loved by anyone. To be loved by
Cassander... the joy brings tears to my eyes. But the tears are for other
reasons, too. He
cannot
love me. He should not love me. This is a dishonor. It is also dangerous.
Cassander was wrong when he said his aching heart was nothing fatal.

"If the king knew, he would kill us both!" I cry.

This time, Cassander's gaze is steady. "We all must die
someday."

It's a torment, but I must
stay away. Every moment of every day, I think of Cassander. From the time I
wake up till the time I go to sleep, he haunts my every thought. But I won't go
to him even though being without him makes me miserable. All I wish to do is
sleep, because I see Cassander in my dreams. It is only when I awaken that I
remember, with a horrified start, that it would be better for us both if I
never saw him again.

I repeat the facts to myself, over and over, as if it will
help me to accept them. I'm the Queen of Thrace. I'm married. Cassander is my
stepson. Even if he weren't, he is a bastard. He is a stable boy. To love him
is to bring dishonor upon the house of Lysimachus and to shame my father and
Egypt besides.

One evening, Bunny climbs into bed next to me, whispering,
"I've a note from Cassander."

 
"How
puzzling," I say, in a desperate attempt to disguise my aching heart.
"Why should a stable boy send a note to the queen?"

I can't fool her. It's no good. Bunny is too close to me.
She sees through me. She must feel the way I go hot all over. Then cold. Then
hot again.

Bunny says, "I'm your sister here in Thrace. I'll keep
your secrets. Take the note, and I'll tell no one."

I nod in surrender. Then, unfolding the little piece of
papyrus, I see the words etched in a spidery lettering.

Why won't you see me? I've been thinking of Plato. I care nothing for
reason. I care nothing for lofty honor. My soul is made up of appetite and if I
do not feed it, I'll die. I love you. Meet me somewhere. Anywhere. -- C

This note is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever
written to me.

It's also treason.

I want to press this paper to my lips. I want to sniff it
and catch the scent of him. Instead, I throw it on the fire. Bunny gasps,
trying to catch it before it lands in the flames. But she's too late and we
both watch it burn.

"Will you meet him?" she finally asks.

"No." But I can't leave him with silence. I call
for a pot of ink and a sheet of papyrus to write upon. Bunny swears she'll
deliver my message as soon as it's written, but I take my time, laboring over
each word.