Dear Prince Gilo,
You told me during my last visit that I could write to you. So I am and I hope I am not pestering you.
I just had my twelfth birthday. Mother made a beautiful cake, spelling out "For Roland, my son" with strawberries. I told her it was splendid. And it was, mostly because it showed how much she is improving in her reading and writing. I am proud of her.
Nobody else came to the party. It was just mother and I and Logos the cat. And that is a problem, I have to admit. When I was a child, I didn't have to talk to people to make friends. Children don't need to talk much. They can just play. But now that I am twelve, everybody is constantly chattering with each other. I can't talk as people do and nobody wants to take the time to figure out my sign language or read what I am writing down. And parchment costs too much anyway to use it all the time.
So in school, I am mostly on my own. I am doing well in my studies (which helps me keep the respect of my teacher) but I am awfully bored. So I write to you and I hope you will write back and tell me what you are doing.
Your loyal subject,
Roland
Dear Roland,
Happy Birthday! I send a small gift along with this letter. I do not know if you are interested in woodcarving but try it and see if your skill doesn't win you even more respect, or at any rate, help you pass the time.
It must be quite a trial to be among people but not really one of them. I feel that way quite often at royal gatherings, though it is by no means the same. I have the ability to speak but fear of what people will think of my ideas hinders me from saying much. Now, Ellis (my wife) is much more outspoken, even though she has many more reasons to feel like an outsider.
Tonight is my brother Olin's coronation, followed by a grand feast. You remember I told you that over the past year, Olin and I have been ruling the country together? We took over father's work quietly and let him rest (he had been feeling poorly for a while). Our goal was that, throughout the year, Olin would acquire the skills necessary to rule alone. Well, tonight, it officially becomes his country because he has turned seventeen and we all feel that he is ready.
There will be fifty guests and probably just as many speeches. Just a half-hour ago, as Olin and I were getting ready with the help of a couple of servants, he said to me, "I will try to enjoy the speeches if I can. But they will not be important to me."
I inquired why not.
And he responded, "They don't know me! How can they possibly say whether I will be a good and just ruler or not? If I were the worst scoundrel in the world, they would say the same thing."
I could not argue with him. All I could say was, "I know you. And although I won't be making speeches tonight if I can help it, I believe you will be a phenomenal ruler."
Olin turned away to rub his eyes and scolded his valet for using too much cologne and making his eyes water.
Then, Ellis rushed into the room, looking so lovely in her dark red gown that I wished, with all my heart, we could forget about the coronation and go on a stroll, just the two of us. Rianne followed her in, simply dressed in a white gown and evidently, not planning to attend the ceremony.
"Are you two ready?" Ellis asked.
"I am," I said.
"Good. Can you do something for me? Go to the servants' quarters and give my chambermaid these earrings. I promised her, she would get them, once I got a new red pair, and I am sure to forget if I don't do it now. Only, I can't do it now because Rianne wants to do something to my eyelashes."
Olin studied the earrings. "These are rubies," he said. "They're worth a lot."
"Good!" Ellis said. "If she is a sensible girl, she will sell them and save the money for her wedding."
We laughed.
"Come!" Rianne urged Ellis, pulling her away and I was left with those tiny, terribly expensive earrings in my hand.
I found the chambermaid fairly quickly and was treated to half a dozen curtsies and a dozen thank-yous. Then, I hurried to my room, to finish this letter. I hope it entertained you for awhile, my friend.
Gilo
Dear Prince Gilo,
Thank you for the carving knife and the smooth blocks of wood. I have been trying to make something out of them but it takes patience. My goal is to make a wooden flower for mother. Of course, if any girl in my class took an interest in me, I would make one for her too. But to them, I'm just "the mute boy."
Fifty speeches! How can there be possibly so much to say? At the tavern, when men drink a lot of beer and then get up on the table and begin to address the crowd, it's dreadfully funny. Mother scolded me though, when she found me there, and said that I was laughing at the dying.
"I've got to laugh at something!"I signed angrily. "Why not at death?"
"Laugh at death all you want!" she said. "But not at the dying!"
What do you suppose she meant by that?
Also, another question: What are you going to do now that you're not ruling the country anymore?
Your faithful subject,
Roland
Dear Roland,
To address your first question; Do you remember when my wife challenged Rumpel to a contest in order to win the freedom of two little girls? When she goaded and insulted him until he agreed, knowing that she might not win? You were very young, so you might have forgotten. But that is what she did. When I think of "laughing at death," that is what comes to mind. Interpret it how you will.
If there is any coldness between you and your mother, you ought to be the one to make up. There is too little time in this life to waste it fighting with people we love. I lost my mother when I was eleven. I did not realize she was dead when I missed her all these years. From my perspective, she had lost me. But I missed her every second all the same and still do. In fact, Olin's coronation and the feast following it was difficult for me for that very reason.
We were feasting in the banquet hall. According to our custom, the men were seated separately from the women. I could see Ellis across the room talking and laughing.
The men were making speeches, wishing Olin a successful and prosperous reign. Olin listened to them good-naturedly but with a spark of skepticism in his eye.
Looking at him, so strong and happy, I felt joyful and sad at the same time.
I caught Ellis' eye. She raised her dark eyebrows at me, then called a servant girl and handed her a folded cloth napkin. The girl took the napkin and carried it to me. "Lady Ellis is waiting for a reply," she informed me.
Puzzled, I unfolded the napkin, then, laughed. She had written me a note with meat sauce!
The note said, "What is the matter? You appear unhappy."
I looked around cautiously. Nobody was watching. So I wrote back, "I find myself wishing my mother could be here. She would be so pleased and proud…her pride and pleasure alone would make everything more lovely." I folded the napkin.
The servant girl carried the napkin back. Ellis read it and her eyes softened. She glanced at me and nodded.
"Does something trouble you, prince?" asked one of the diplomats sitting at my right.
I was about to respond when my father cried, "Oh, everything troubles him! He is quite nervous and sensitive, my oldest!"
Heat rushed into my face. He has called me that many times in private but never before in front of guests. Then I forced myself to laugh. "Thank you, father," I responded.
"You laugh?" asked one of the other diplomats curiously, one with a dark moustache.
"What can a man do with his faults except laugh at them?" I said lightly. Then, the other chuckled and changed the subject.
When the feast was over, I cordially parted with everyone and headed to my bedroom. I was terribly weary of keeping up appearances.
Ellis was there already. "You look tired," she said.
"How I missed you tonight!" I said, taking her hand.
"Yes, they seemed to be a dull crowd from where I was sitting. Were they unpleasant?"
"Only my father."
Ellis kissed me. "Your light is flickering," she said. "Let me light it." She kissed me again. "You are a marvel. No matter what your father says."
I have gotten carried away. You cannot possibly be interested in kissing and such things at your age. I am sure you would much rather hear about fencing and horseback riding. I shall try to make my letter more entertaining next time. However, I will send this one anyway. Let's see what you make of it.
Your second question is an interesting one. What will I do next? I've been wondering that myself. What do you think I should do?
Gilo
Dear Prince Gilo,
I told mother what you said about Lady Ellis "laughing at death" and she started weeping. She said that if she had been half as brave as Lady Ellis, she would have never given me away to Rumpel in the first place. She still blames herself. I wasn't sure what to do to make her stop, so I ran and got the wooden inkstand, I've been carving and presented it to her. She was so pleased, she stopped immediately.
Your letter gave me an idea. Yesterday, I left a note in a girl's desk. Her name is Rilla. I realized it was risky because somebody else might read it so I wrote it in Sednatian, which is a language we are all studying. Most of the others wouldn't bother translating it because it is hard work and they are lazy. But Rilla's family comes from Sedna, you see, so she can read it easily. It simply said that I would like to invite her to my house to eat blueberry pie. I haven't been able to sleep all night, wondering what she would say in response.
You are right. I am not too interested in kissing. I hope Rilla isn't either (Ugh!) But maybe she would like to see my wood carvings. I've got three now.
I'd love to hear more about fencing and horseback riding.
Your faithful subject,
Roland
PS: Maybe you should visit our town.
Dear Roland,
Please tell your mother that stronger people than she have succumbed to Rumpel's deceptions. And now that he is gone, there is no need to dwell on what is past.
I am afraid fencing and horseback riding will have to wait. Something rather interesting has happened and I thought you might want to hear about it.
Yesterday, Olin was settling disputes between three southern landowners. I was there too, keeping notes but remaining in the background. They were all upset and each one felt that he had been wronged. Even with the research Olin had done, it was still a confusing group of arguments to untangle. Also, it was a delicate balance, remaining authoritative without being harsh and domineering. Father never managed to hold that balance. He never even bothered to try. But Olin was doing well.
Ellis was busy seeing some teenage girl who had come to seek protection from her cruel mother. I knew Rianne and Rosalie were somewhere about but I had not even been able to have lunch with them.
I stepped into the garden to take a breath or two.
Then, I heard a quiet voice say, "Uncle Gilo?"
I turned around and there was Rosalie, her dark hair framing her oval face, as she looked at me through the flowers of a rhododendron bush.
"Hello, little niece," I said.
"I thought I might find you here," she said, seriously. "I need to talk to you."
I hesitated for a moment. Well…Olin would just have to take notes on his own for a few minutes.
"Come sit on the bench," I said.
Rosalie smiled. "All right." She circled around the bush and sat down next to me, her short feet dangling. She is a small child for nine years old although I know Rianne watches to see that she eats plenty.
"Well?" I gave her my full attention.
"Rosalie frowned. "Uncle Gilo, did mama tell you the news?"
I tried to guess. "Uh…your mother's birthday is coming up and she wants to have a small party?"
Rosalie shook her head. "Oh, no. She wanted to have a party but now she isn't sure because of the letter we got this morning."
"The letter?"
"From my father."
I stared. This was something new. "Your father sent a letter?"
"Yes. He says that he wants to meet me."
"Hmmm." I turned this over in my mind for a moment. "And how do you feel about that?"
"I don't know." Rosalie sighed. "Mama doesn't want to see him. But she says that I can do as I please. Only I can see that she wants me to say 'no.' So, I wanted to ask you what I should do."
I hesitated. All I've ever heard from Ellis about Rosalie's father is that he was a man who could not stay faithful to any woman for too long and that Rianne finally left him.
What sort of father would a man like that be? I thought. Hardly a good one. Then again, my father has never been the ideal parent, yet, I would rather have him than anybody else.
"Are you afraid to meet him?" I asked carefully.
"Yes but…" Rosalie paused.
"There is a part of you that wants to meet him anyway?"
"Yes," she whispered. "There is."
"Then, you should," I said.
Rosalie reached over and put her arms around my neck. I could practically feel her heart beating through her pink dress. "Thank you, uncle Gilo."
So now that the decision is made, we await the arrival of Rosalie's father. Have I done right? I wonder. I suppose time will tell.
Gilo
Dear Prince Gilo,
Rilla came over! She sent me another letter saying that she could come to my house at the end of the week and when she came, she even brought some carrots and potatoes. (Her parents keep a garden.) So, we had blueberry pie for a snack and then mother made soup with those carrots and potatoes and Rilla stayed for dinner. Then we had blueberry pie again for desert.
She talks a lot, which is a good thing for me. But what is interesting is that she told me she would try to learn sign language because she thinks writing and reading in Sednatian is boring. So that is nice.
Also, she asked me not tell anyone that she was at my house because the girls would tease her. And as soon as she said that, she colored up to her ears and said, "Not that you would tell anyone. What I meant was…don't share the news with anyone!" And I smiled to show that it was all right.
Do you think I could show her the first letter you wrote to me? I won't show any of the other letters to her but it would interest her to see that I was getting letters from the prince.
Your faithful and happy subject,
Roland