It was destined to end this way. No matter how I envisioned it, the result was inevitable–silent and still with a little bit of blood for effect.
We grew up together. When I say "together" I mean at the same time, in the same place. For the last seven winters, at least. But it was a castle with over 100 rooms...and we may as well have been worlds apart. Age is where all the similarities ended. I see that clearly now.
She was beautiful, of course. Aren't they always? A classical beauty. There is no other word for it. Like those you read about. Or, hear people talk about reading about. Letters weren't a priority in our home. Not when there were chores to be done. Cleaning. Tending to the animals. Tending to the crops. And my training. Oh, how I hated my training then. I swear I spent three years being bruised all over and in a constant state of pain! But without it, I wouldn’t be here today. I wouldn’t be close to her.
She had some 22 winters to her. Like me. Unwed. Like me. None yet arrived at her door that were worthy of her hand, according to her father. To my mind, none would ever be.
He was an ambitious man. Even with his evident wealth and station, he craved more. He was not of royal lineage, but he acted like he was. I suppose being an advisor to the Prince Regent meant you could take some liberties. Everyone was a tool to be used to his advantage.
I had dreams. Hopes. Desires. But these were luxuries I could ill afford and may have been a distraction. I see this now. Clearly.
I kept them to myself, but secretly I longed. I was her guard. Her protector. Hers. Where she went, I followed. Surely, this would count in my favour?
In the beginning, I thought I was in control. As I said, she was beautiful. But I was a soldier. Not battle-hardened...yet. I've seen my share of skirmishes, but I was bound now and those days were over. The only battle I'd likely see would be if the castle was attacked. And they'd have to get through thousands of soldiers first. So, unlikely. Thankfully.
One of her attendants summoned me to her room. She was readying herself for a horse ride with friends. She did this often, and it made protecting her all the more challenging, but I was flexible. Accommodating, even. What better qualities do you need in a protector?
Sitting there at her dresser in front of the large window overlooking the open plaza below, she was brushing her hair. If you looked at her from just the right angle, you would swear she had a golden glow about her…a halo. But in the cold, hard light of day, with hindsight as a dear old friend, it was clear that she was no angel.
She opened what looked like a heart-shaped metallic box, retrieved from a locked draw and withdrew 2 long hair pins. Or were they daggers? It was hard to tell. Either way, it was comforting to know she had something to protect herself if I wasn’t around.
As I said, that was my job. Protecting her. My role and reason for being, as her father took pleasure in reminding me many times. You would think that being in servitude to this family for so many winters would have provided some insights. Maybe even some benefits. But, I should have known where I stood. After all, my place was clear…to everyone else.
Standing from her chair, she walked towards me. My heart raced just a little. I smiled and was ready to greet her, but our eyes never met. She continued past me and out the door, leaving a delicate perfume to waft in her wake. Oh, how she liked playing games with me.
Who was I kidding? I was a toy soldier from a poor family, given an opportunity to repay my father's debts. Yes, that familiar story. Nobody in this castle saw me as anything more than a servant.
Gambling, you understand, is a fool's game. There is only ever one winner, and it isn’t the fool placing the wager. The House always wins. You learn this growing up. My father thought he was the exception. Cards, dice, cockroaches running up a wall. You name it. The game didn’t matter as long as someone would take his bet. This was his legacy and my inheritance.
I was a tool for this family. An instrument to be used to their advantage. They would never see me as anything more. But, when she looked at me, it was different. She was different. I could tell.
As I was instructed when I first arrived, I followed 3 steps behind her and to the right. I never quite understood why, but I was told and I obeyed.
My job was to ensure that no harm came to her. That much was made crystal clear. She turned the corner and when I came around…she was gone. What the hell? I smiled. She wanted to play games. This will be fun. The first few doors were empty. I opened the last one and there she was. A vision of loveliness.
She leaned in close. My heart skipped a beat. This was it. It was finally happening.
I smiled. She didn’t.
I remember on the one occasion where she had leant on me for support, and I touched her on the arm. With muscle around my arms and upper body and a layer of good eating around my midsection - a good soldier needs to keep up his strength - she was soft and doughy all over. Curvaceous. It was only brief, but she looked at me and thanked me. We had a moment. We both knew it. It was the first time and the beginning.
Lying here now, blood flowing from a dagger stuck in my armpit and another in my chest, blood thick as honey as it slowly congealed around me, I had to wonder–would she ever love me?
