The hour was early, but the Prince was awake and standing at his bedroom window, watching the sun seep over the kingdom in front of him; his view from the castle had always been magnificent. From up there he could perceive the entire village below and the surrounding lands that stretched into the forest, lost in the horizon. But with his shoulder wound, gifted to him by the necromancer, he now viewed the world through a lens of pain and secret despair.
There was a soft knock coming from behind one of the larger tapestries on his wall, and suddenly it swung open and a good friend stepped out of the secret passageway.
"Marius," Stefan turned and greeted his old friend with an enthusiastic embrace, "it's been ages."
Marius untied the cloth that obscured the bottom half of his face and revealed the wide grin of a boy about Stefan's age. "Too long, apparently. It looks like your father has attempted to block off certain passageways with guards stationed at meeting points. Has he finally lost his marbles?"
Stefan shook his head, his laughter ironic. "There is much to discuss about the situation here. I'm sure you've heard of my… affliction, by now."
Marius' smile faded and he turned to a medium sized bag he brought with him. Pulling it open, he revealed a stash of medical apparatus within. "I came prepared. Now let's get to the bottom of this."
Stefan removed his shirt and allowed his friend to examine the wound that would not heal. Strange it was, though, hardly a normal wound as not only did it seem to become worse, but pain would consume him randomly and he would fall weak and ill periodically.
"This is not something I have yet encountered," Marius reluctantly admitted, "not even in the poorer kingdoms that I've recently travelled to… but that's not a reason to give up hope. Here," he produced a small vial from the bag, "put a drop of this every day in a goblet, and mix it with wine. It's an old fashioned remedy but it'll do what it can for you. I know it can at least dull the pain, my friend. I think I will have to look further into this necromancer's poison to find a cure for it."
"He said there was no cure," Stefan said for the first time aloud, "and I believe him. Now he's escaped and I think I can feel myself dying, however slowly."
"Nonsense."
Stefan shook his head. "If I were braver, I wouldn't believe it. But I do. I don't know how long this secret can be kept for though, Marius, for if I am to die-"
"—don't even consider it," Marius firmly interrupted, "I have been practicing this healing skill for a decade now, and my studies have led me to know for sure that there is nothing in this world that does not have a cure. We need only to find it."
Stefan sighed, and regarded his oldest friend with sadness. "I only mean to say we are running out of time." He put his shirt back on, and a coat over it. Stefan was determined to keep the wound hidden from everyone and everything, even himself.
"That part may be true," Marius conceded, digging about in his healing bag, "so vigilant we will be. You know in matters like this, where time is slipping through our very fingers like water, it would be wise to seek help. Are you sure your father can't know about this?"
"I have stopped speaking to my father," Stefan replied in an ugly tone, "there is nothing more to say to him. He only intends to push me up upon the throne and then vanish into the land of magic. He cares nothing for this world anymore, much less his own sons."
Marius closed his healing bag with a snap. "You must be candid with me, my friend. What of this girl I've been hearing rumors about?"
Stefan sat down upon his bed and rubbed his shoulder of the pain. "Her name is Mary."
"Yes, and?—"
"I don't know. I met her the night of the ball. She was the only person who stood out to me, but then she ran away. The necromancer went after her, and so did I. That's when he shot me with his arrow. I only just found her again yesterday; she was being escorted by some strange being upon the kingsroad. She has no memory of what has happened to her at all. Is that not bizarre? I'm keeping her here under my personal protection."
"Is she the one you will choose to marry? That's what the townspeople whisper about."
"How could I marry her? I am dying. Whatever was meant to be is now lost. The last thing I will do, if we truly run out of time, is go to the sea. I will take her with me. Nothing else really matters anymore."
"That is not the prince I know," Marius remarked accusingly, "how can you give up hope already?"
Stefan shook his head. "The world is a different place when you know you will no longer be a part of it. That is all I can say."
Marius gave his friend a meaningful glare. "It's time I depart and make my rounds about the village. Lots of sick people there. I will be back at evenfall, and when I am, we will start mapping out our plan to find the cure."
"As always, my friend," Stefan watched him disappear back through the secret passage way, his spirit weakening at the sight.
I awoke to the sound of a servant entering my bedroom and setting down a tray of breakfast near my bed. I sat up, immediately feeling that somehow, I was somewhere else. The servant, who I had never seen before, regarded me with surprise and confusion as I looked around at my surroundings, realizing I was in Prince Stefan's castle.
"Good morning to you," the young servant girl said as I stared at her blankly, "if you crave a bite to eat, there is porridge and fruit here for you. In the wardrobe are some dresses that are your size, too. Lady Margaret was a petite woman before her pregnancy."
"That is very kind of you," I replied, getting out of bed, "My name is Mary, by the way."
The servant girl gave me a knowing smile. "You can call me Paulina. I used to serve Lady Margaret before she moved away a few months ago—now, well, I guess I will be serving you, Lady Mary. Do you know how long you will be here?"
I sifted through the wardrobe and pulled out a simple dress that would fit me well, changing into it immediately. "Until I regain my memory, I suppose. So maybe I will be here forever."
Paulina fell curiously silent. Fully dressed, I ran a comb through my hair and began to eat some of the breakfast. No sooner had I began when there was a knock at the door. Paulina opened the door to reveal Stefan, dressed down in raggedy pauper clothes, his hair tied back beneath a worn hat.
"May I come in?"
I nodded eagerly as Paulina made her leave, closing the door behind her.
"I need to run an errand," Stefan began, "would you like to join me?"
I eyed his clothes curiously. "Absolutely. Should I dress down a bit for it…?"
This made him smile. "No one recognizes you yet, thankfully. Anonymity in this kingdom is the key to freedom."
He led me back through the servant's quarters to the stable where his horse waited, and upon the saddle was a large sack tightly tied shut. We mounted the horse and descended through the forest to the village, riding in an excited silence.
The village was already awake, bustling with the movement of thousands of people. The early morning smells of bakeries drifted through the air, met by the sound of greetings and farewells as the villagers moved about, fulfilling their daily obligations as the sun moved up into the sky. Disguised as a commoner, and with me at his side, Stefan rode through the streets with the sack jingling behind us. We passed by the market place where I used to sell vegetables for coin; I scanned the many faces down the street as I searched for Old Mia's likeness; she was nowhere in sight.
Stefan tied his horse up in one of the public stables and gave the waiting stable boy a few silvers to look after it. When we dismounted, he heaved the sack down and over his shoulder, and we made our way through the village on foot, heading towards one of the poorer districts.
No one gave us a double glance; we blended in well as we moved through the busy streets. The shops and inns around us began to decrease in size and grandeur as Stefan led us to the poorer part of town. In this section of the village, the children that ran around and played did so in tattered clothing and without shoes. The elderly were often left abandoned and alone upon the street, asking for help from any passerby. The people who lived here were gaunt, and tired. Is it possible for there to be a kingdom that exists without such poverty? Never in my own misfortune did I ever experience the coldness and disparity of the streets, and the feeling moved me heavily in my heart.
The sack Stefan carried upon his back jingled again. I looked at him sideways, and something clicked.
"Are you giving it all away?" I whispered.
Stefan replied with only a wink, and steered us towards a pavilion where an old man sat alone upon the steps; his blindness was obvious by the milky white of his eyes and the gnarled state of his long, white hair. Stefan sat next to the blind man, and introduced himself.
"My name is Phil, sir," he said to him, "and if you will tell me all you think of this kingdom, and what you have heard from others, I will give you enough gold to build a house."
The old man frowned, his milky eyes peering into a different world. "What is that you say? Such idolatry. I don't normally take part in secular discussions. If you have eyes, unlike myself, you can see me and know what I think of this kingdom. Leave an old man be."
"To be, is a very important thing, sir," Stefan replied respectfully, "I can only speak for the living. I am tremendously humbled by you, and I will vow to make it right again." He reached into the sack and pulled out a large handful of coins, of which he slipped into a discreet pouch, and placed it into the unsuspecting hands of the blind man, who received the weight of coins in disbelief.
Stefan turned to me, "Anyone you see, who appears to be in need, give them gold. I emptied my account this morning, and with it I am repaying the kingdom for the deeds of my family's rule."
"You emptied your account?" I was surprised by this, but no less impressed by his selfless deed.
He avoided my gaze. "It's gone now. It does not matter to me anymore." He paused, "But then again, it never mattered to me anyway. It feels right, giving it away."
"How cryptic you are," I said, echoing his words to me from the night we met, "but I don't mind. What about them?" I pointed towards a shabby vegetable stand where a young couple and their baby managed, searching the street hopefully for someone to buy their vegetables.
Stefan approached their stand, and studied the vegetables thoughtfully. The family looked on in silence as he chose a handful of potatoes, carrots, onions and turnips and asked what the price would be.
The man held up three shaking fingers; three bronze coins. Stefan nodded, and again reaching into his sack of money, brought out at least a hundred gold coins and filled the man's apron with them. The mother holding the baby looked on speechlessly as her husband thanked Stefan with broken words. But we did not stay to hear it; there was much gold left still. Down the street we went, leaving secret gifts to the innocent and the needy, the sad and forgotten people of the village. We stopped by the orphanage and left the bag of vegetables Stefan had bought, as well as a pile of gold that could supply all the needed food for years. Stefan talked with everyone. He asked them what they thought of the kingdom, like he had never before heard the truth. I could tell he was searching for answers, but at the same time he seemed so care free. His smile was as cool as the breeze, his demeanor charming and diplomatic. In his pauper clothes, he appeared to be a boy who felt like he could change the world. My heart swelled as I journeyed with him through the village, passing out the gold like fairies in the night. It was a privilege like no other.
Midday came, and we were resting in the village square, sipping some wine Stefan had bought us.
"I feel like a different person, after seeing all those people realize their lives have changed," I mused aloud.
"They are my people. I owe them so much." He replied contemplatively. "Thanks for coming with me to do this. It was you who inspired me."
I raised my eyebrows and looked away, humbled. I smiled as one particular memory floated through my head. "I remember, the night I met you, I was wondering what the Prince would be like. Would he be kind, and just? Would he be a good leader? And here you are, and you are all that and more. You should know it."
Stefan leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. It was quick, but it was meaningful. He peered at me in the eyes, "You are so kind. I am so grateful to have you with me." He appeared to want to say more, but he looked away and got to his feet.
"There is much ground to cover. What do you say we continue on?"
I followed him on, and it was the best afternoon I ever had.
