Eternal Spring A Young Adult Short Story Collection (14 page)

 

I am the Queen of Thrace. I am married. You are my stepson. Even if you
weren't, you are a bastard. You are a stable hand. To love you would be to
bring dishonor upon the house of Lysimachus and to shame my father besides. I
will not do it. I will not meet you. The only favor I can bestow upon you is my
silence. For your own sake, I implore you to burn this letter and never write
to me again. -- Queen Arsinoë

 

Writing those words, those horrible words, opens a gaping
wound in me. It hurts. It pounds behind my eyes, giving me headaches that keep
me in bed for days. It churns in my stomach so that I eat very little, and what
I do eat, I can't keep down.

 
 

Cassander
sends another note. Then another. I burn them all.

I'm so sick, so often, that the king believes I'm with
child. In a fit of exuberance, he sends midwives to prod at my belly. They
swear that I have good hips for birthing and that I'll one day have sons who
will be kings. Like my mother, they think this is the greatest protection a
woman can have.

Even Prince Agathocles brings me a congratulatory basket of
pomegranates. "In case I'm not here to give you a gift when you are with
child..."

"Why wouldn't you be?" I ask. "Where are you
going?"

"To war," Prince Agathocles says, stoutly.
"I'm going to lead the cavalry into the mountains against the
tribesmen."

"May you win a great victory and return home
safe," I say.

I mean it, too. Since the day Prince Agathocles apologized
for his behavior, he's treated me with respect as his father's chief wife.
Since that day, he and his sister have been my friends. I would be sorry if he
died at war.

He tries to encourage me by saying, "I'll have
Cassander with me. That boy knows the mountain passes as if he were a native
tribesman himself."

My throat tightens and my voice comes out as a distressed
squeak. "
Cassander
is going to war with you?"

"He must grow up sometime," Prince Agathocles
replies. "He knows how to use a spear. Now he must wield it for our
father."

By the gods, Cassander could die in war and I might never see
him again! I've been so foolish to stay away from him. Now I regret every
moment we've been apart.

When Prince Agathocles is gone, I nearly dash the basket of
pomegranates to the floor in my haste.

"Where are you going?" Bunny asks.

"To the stables."

"No!" she cries, grabbing at my arm. "Someone
might see you."

"So what? I've visited the stables a hundred times
before."

"This time you aren't going to see your horse,"
Bunny argues. "You're going to see
Cassander
. It's better you meet him beneath the
mulberry tree when everyone is asleep."

She knows. She's carried messages for him. She carried one
from me, as well. But before now, I've behaved honorably. I've
done
nothing
shameful. That is about to change. Even though I know Cassander loves me and I
love him, I must see him. I am ashamed of myself, but it will not stop me.

"Yes," I say, a tingle of thrill in my blood.
"Tell Cassander to meet me under the moon and the mulberry tree."

 
 

A servant undresses me for bed. The
moment I hear her footsteps in the distance, I slip out of my room. In bare
feet, I race down the back stairs. All I can think of is Cassander. To see him
again! To hear his voice. To be warmed by his shy smile. I don't even feel the
ground beneath my toes. It is as if I float through the moonlit garden to the
mulberry tree where I see him silhouetted in the darkness.

"Arsinoë?" he whispers.

The sound of it makes my heart leap with joy. "Yes!
Cassander. It's me."

"You came," he says, reaching for my hands. I let
him take them. His hands are warm, his fingertips rough on my own. "Have
you come to say goodbye, Arsinoë?"

"To wish you luck," I say, hurriedly, not wishing
to give him cause for worry.

"I intend to become a great warrior," he says.

"And then?"

His eyes glisten. "Who knows...the world turns in
strange ways."

We're silent a moment, holding hands.

"I'm not afraid to die in battle," Cassander says.
"I am only afraid to die without ever having heard you say it."

I blush. I
burn
. I know what he wants to hear. I can't deny it anymore.
"I love you, Cassander."

He smiles. It's a beautiful, dazzling smile. "Will you
say it again? I think it has become my new favorite sound."

"I love you, Cassander. I
love
you."

Nothing in my life has ever been so easy to say.

And once I've said it, we stand there, staring at one
another with grins upon our faces.

We are still standing like that, moments later, when the
king's soldiers burst into the garden and arrest us.

 
 

I'm brought before King Lysimachus.
His deranged dog takes my place on the throne, barking madly. In only my
dressing gown, I'm utterly shamed before the court. I'm accused of unspeakable
crimes. And I cannot stop trembling for my fear--and my anger.

All my life I've been someone's victim. Bullied by Lysandra
in Egypt. And now, betrayed, most cruelly, by the girl who called herself my
sister in Thrace.

I should never have called her Bunny.

I should have remembered that her real name was Eurydice.

I should have seen her as a rival.

"I carried notes for Cassander," she confesses to
her father, big crocodile tears in her eyes. "But only because he swore to
me they were innocent. I didn't know any better, Father. The moment I realized
the queen meant to betray you, I told the guards everything I knew."

The king turns his cold eyes to me. "How will you
defend yourself, Arsinoë?"

Lifting my chin, I say, "I've done nothing."

"Nothing!" The king roars. "You stand before
me having been caught in the night with another man."

Not another man, I think. His son. Cassander is his son, I
remember. Surely that must count for something. "We only clasped hands in
farewell," I say, choosing my words carefully. If I want Cassander to live
until morning, I must use my wits. "We clasped hands. Nothing more. Not
tonight. Not ever."

"You cannot trust her," Prince Agathocles says.
"She's an immoral girl."

"Careful," King Lysimachus says, snapping a finger
in the prince's direction. "She's still your queen."

"She was my queen when she professed love for me at your
welcome banquet," Prince Agathocles says.

My mouth falls open in horror.

"And why is this the first I'm hearing of it?"
King Lysimachus snarls.

"You seemed so happy to bring home your new
bride," Agathocles says. "I thought she was young and naive. I didn't
want to believe she was wicked."

In Egypt I never learned to defend myself. I hope it is not
too late to learn now. "He's lying."

"Oh, but there's more," Prince Agathocles says.
"A few days later, your queen asked me to meet her beneath the mulberry
tree--yes, the very same tree under which she betrayed you tonight."

"That's not true!" I cry.

"Ask Bunny," Agathocles says. "Ask your
guards and gardeners if you don't believe me. Some of them were witness to it.
Your queen professed her love for me, and when I rebuffed her, she ran from me
in anger. I called after her that I wanted only to be her friend."

The blood drains from my face as I realize how expertly I've
been maneuvered and manipulated by Prince Agathocles. The king's children
planned it all from the start. Bunny called herself my sister; but she's
his
sister.

And they both want me dead.

 
 

I fall to my knees before
King Lysimachus, reaching for his feet to plead for his mercy. When I do, the
horrible dog snarls, lunges, then sinks its teeth into my arm. I wrench away,
too late. Fangs have pierced the tender skin of my wrist and I'm bleeding. The
courtiers all gasp; even though I am a queen near disgrace,
they're horrified
by the sight of the bright red blood that trickles down my hand
.

My blood fascinates me, however. The vibrant color. The
sharp scent of it. It focuses my mind to perfect clarity.

The king holds back his dog, but smirks indulgently at the
cursed creature.

And I know what I must do.

I must attack.

"Your ambitions to take your father's throne don't
deceive anyone," I say, pointing at Prince Agathocles with a bloody
finger. "You wear expensive jewelry to remind all his lords that you
outrank them. You lead the king's cavalry. You take it upon yourself to host in
his banquet hall, welcoming his bride by saying she is only fit to give him
comfort in his
golden
years
. You said this to remind the lords of your father's age and to make
them think you should take the throne from him."

Another gasp comes from the crowd. My accusation seems to
startle the prince, whose eyes widen. He is so startled that he cannot stop
himself from self-consciously hiding his bejeweled fingers behind his back.

"Now you drag your poor sister into it," I
continue, glancing at Bunny--no, Princess Eurydice; I will never again forget
her name. "You made her lie. You made her scheme. All in an effort to do
away with me before I stopped you from stealing your father's throne."

Before anyone can reply, I whip my head to face the king. My
hair must be wild. My face must be pale. I cannot keep my lower lip from
trembling. But I force myself to look into his hard face. "Prince
Agathocles hatched a plan the moment we arrived in Thrace. He saw me and he was
jealous of what you have. Ask yourself, would a loyal son wait all this time to
tell you of an unfaithful wife? He waited until you sent midwives to me. He
waited until the moment he was most afraid I would give you another,
better
,
son."

Prince Agathocles shouts an objection, but the king raises a
hand to silence him. Then the king looks at me and his eyes narrow shrewdly.
"Yet, you were caught tonight in the garden with Cassander."

I'm not guilty of what they accuse me. Still, I'm not
innocent. It doesn't matter. To save Cassander's life, I'll say anything. I'll
pretend anything. "I was lured there," I say.

"Do you claim that you sent no messages to
Cassander?"

"I wrote only once." This is actually the truth.
"And I wrote nothing shameful. This I swear on the River Styx."

 
 

I spend that night locked away.
Under guard. My wrist hurts badly. The dog bite still seeps blood and throbs
with pain. Still, that's drowned out by the sound of my racing heartbeat.

I'm afraid for my life. I'm more afraid for Cassander.

Why wasn't he dragged before the king as I was? What have
they done with him and where is he now? Unable to sleep, I shuffle on the tile
floor, back and forth, until I'm so tired and thirsty, that I sink to my knees.

In the morning, a servant dresses me in my finest garments.
The expensive linen from Egypt. The pearls that were a gift at my wedding. The
jeweled diadem for my hair. Whatever fate I meet today, I'll meet it in royal
fashion.

Led into the throne room, I see the court assembled. The
king doesn't look at me. He is dressed formally, standing the way he does when
he makes judgments. I'm the one to be judged. He'll pronounce me guilty or
innocent.

I'm so afraid I must push hard on the floor to keep myself
standing.

King Lysimachus holds forth a scrap of paper, and begins to
read.

 

I am the Queen of Thrace. I am married. You are my stepson. Even if you
weren't, you are a bastard. You are a stable hand. To love you would be to
bring dishonor upon the house of Lysimachus and to shame my father besides. I
will not do it. I will not meet you. The only favor I can bestow upon you is my
silence. For your own sake, I implore you to burn this letter and never write
to me again. -- Queen Arsinoë

 

It is the letter I wrote to Cassander. How horrible to hear
my harsh words, spoken with the king's contempt. This letter absolves me, but
condemns Cassander. He should have burned this letter. He should have burned
it! I glance at Princess Eurydice wondering what trick this is. But the girl
they call Bunny is dressed in a simple gown today, she looks as surprised as I
am. From his spot beside his sister, Prince Agathocles gapes, then snaps his
mouth shut.

My husband the king takes a long, shuddering breath, then
says, "This letter was found amongst Cassander's belongings. It's proof of
Arsinoë's innocence. Proof of her virtue." I begin to wilt with relief,
until the king says, "Let the stain and the sin fall upon Cassander. He's
confessed to an intention to betray me by seducing my queen. Tomorrow he'll be
put to death."

Now I swoon.
No!
How could Cassander confess to such a
thing? And why should he pay for it with his life? "B--but he is your son.
Cassander is your
son!
"

"My bastard," the king says, letting his eyes fall
upon Prince Agathocles. "But let Cassander's death be a warning to
all
my
sons."

 
 

The sentence having been
pronounced, the court files out. King Lysimachus and I are left alone in the
throne room, burning oil lamps throwing silent shadows on the walls.

"Come, take your throne," the king says.

I'm shaking all over. I don't think I can walk. But I must
convince him, somehow, to change his mind about Cassander. Tentatively, I sit
beside him, cradling my wounded wrist in my lap.

"Do you know why I spared you, Arsinoë?" King
Lysimachus asks.

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