(Disclaimer: LoD characters and settings are property of Sony. I'm just playing with them for awhile, promise I'll put them back afterwards.)
Schism
Prologue: In the Garden
ISpring in Serdio meant the gardens abloom with daffodils and tulips and a man's fancy often turned to thoughts of love.
Such trite things to be thinking of when there was a kingdom to lord over. Or, at least that's how Prince Doel looked at it. Carlo was the poet, gifted with a glib tongue and a honeyed voice, not to mention doe brown eyes that easily fluttered their way into the hearts and minds of many a young woman. Far harder of face and bulky of frame, Doel knew his place in the scheme of the Courts and preferred blunt edged force of his words and convictions over dancing the political games that dominated the scene.
Still, in the early morning the gardens still called as a refuge, a place where Doel knew he would be alone for a time to gather his thoughts. Prince of the realm, general of the armies of Serdio, advisor to his brother, King Carlo, Doel had plenty to keep busy with, but there came a time when everyone needed to pause. To reflect on the state of the world and how one might better it for the future. The flutter of birds rustled the tall bushes as he passed, the buzz of insects droning in the background. Soon the garden would waken entirely from its dormancy and explode with color and life.
Unexpected, was it, to find another within the garden's growing splendor. Doel nearly missed her at first, too caught up in his thoughts. It was her voice that attracted his attention, a sweet and gentle hum, occasionally joined with lyrics to an old Serdian tune sung normally during fests. Quietly he followed the sound of her voice, until he came round the maze of bushes to find her sitting at the fountain in the center of the garden. Curious, something glued his feet to the floor that mid-spring morning. Something bid him to watch and leave her undisturbed.
Warm. It was the first word that came to him, the first descriptor for the beauty before him. Golden brown hair fell in a straight cascade past her shoulders, glimmering like ripened wheat ready for harvest. Her frame belied a woman of smaller stature, but not fragility. Her skin was pale, yet not ashen to suggest ill health, a rosy glow to her cheeks untouched by rouge. It was she who broke the stillness of his vigil, turning to find him standing there, watching her. A hand fluttered up to rest against her chest in a startled fashion and then she smiled. The warmth in her eyes shone like stars in the darkness of her pupils. Hazelnut, he mused, the color of hazelnuts were her eyes and he stood there as she rose to her feet, too numb to even move, tongue too tied to speak.
"Hello," she broke the silence, "Who are you, Sir? Are you all right?"
"I… I am Doel," he responded, stuttered despite himself. No woman had ever struck him so dumb before. But it was Carlo who possessed the smooth tongue and courtly manners, not Doel. At his name, her eyes widened and she immediately bent into a curtsey.
"Your Highness, I had no idea. Please forgive me," she whispered.
"Nay, my Lady, please rise. There is no need for formality but… please, your name?"
She rose, a trifle uncertain in her gestures until those warm, hazelnut eyes settled on his face and her smile returned. "Karina."
Karina. He felt as if his heart could soar, as if he could win a million battles against the mightiest foes if only to hear that name spoken again with such soft resiliance. Though he always felt love was a silly game played in the Courts, suddenly he knew with utter certainty that true love did exist, as did love at first sight.
"Karina?" a distant voice called, dragging Doel's thoughts away from the woman in front of him. Something about that particular voice set the prince's hackles on edge and then it came to him: It was his brother, Carlo. Guilt quickly replaced the immediate irritation. Carlo and he had always been close, at least until their father passed away and the crown was handed down to his oldest son. Since that day, friction slowly seeped into their bond like rainwater running through the cracks of a boulder to eventually break it in two.
Karina smiled as the King of Serdio made his appearance and again Doel felt his irritation rankle his senses. She curtsied and out of habit Doel clasped a fist to his breast, the only man in all of the realm rendered immune to bowing and scraping before his brother. Carlo smiled at them both in turn, but his attention clearly rested on Karina's face. "Hello, brother, I did not expect to find you in the garden. Did you wander here to brood again?" But, before Doel could even reply, Carlo had drifted to hold out an arm for Karina to loop her hand through and leaned in to stage whisper, "He's so terribly dour at times, best watch yourself around my brother, he's an idealist!"
"There is nothing wrong with wishing for a kingdom founded on justice instead of politics," Doel countered, finding that in Karina's presence, his ire flared brighter at how his brother prodded at the differences between them. To his delight, Karina gave pause and her countenance changed to curiosity.
"Nay, Majesty, His Highness is a noble man to hold such lofty ideals. I should find that a good and noble trait in a loyal brother and subject to the crown." Her tone neither rebuked nor nagged, merely spoke it as truth and Carlo only replied by chuckling at her. At once Doel wondered why his brother came here and what he wanted from the young Karina. Obviously her intelligence and opinion meant little to him.
"Karina is the daughter of Duke Rivenhold," Carlo then explained to his younger brother, as if reading his thoughts just then. "We have a proposal in the works and perhaps after a brief time of courtship, we shall be betrothed."
Doel felt his entire world shatter in that moment. Though his features betrayed none of his despair and remained a mask of calm, waters that would not ripple no matter how many stones skipped across the surface, inwardly the undertow of his thoughts threatened to pull him under and drown him. "Congradulations are in order then?" he asked with a subdued voice. Carlo knew how to read his brother, but lately as they drifted apart, their empathy for one another had diminished greatly. Or perhaps with all the courtly nobles surrounding him had begun to desensitize the young king.
"Thank you," he said with a saccharin smile on his lips. "Come, Karina, we have much to discuss."
Doel could only watch with a sinking heart as his brother strode off with Karina on his arm. But did he imagine the expression in her eyes? A final look in his direction, of both rueful apology and invitation to seek her out another time. Was it his wishful thinking?
He would find out later, for even if his brother plainly laid claim to Karina that day, Doel knew his heart was already gone.
(Gee, get the idea of where I'm going with this? ;)