Chapter Four: The Proclamation
The common people were gathered in front of the castle, awaiting the wonderful news that their prince had so longed to give them for years. After a few minutes of waiting, the trumpeters blew a golden fanfare, cueing the entrance of the king and the crown prince.
The younger royal locked mismatched eyes with his father, who nodded. The prince smiled, and turned to the large crowd below. "My people," he proclaimed in a loud voice. "As many of you know, the eight-hundredth anniversary of the founding of our country is in half a year's time. On the sundown of that anniversary, I will marry a lady who was once counted among you. Although that will no longer be true, I hope you will love her as much as I do. Would you like to meet her?"
His loyal subjects roared their approval heartily, since the prince had waited perhaps a little too long in choosing a bride.
"My people," the dark-haired prince said proudly, extending his hand lovingly to an opening that had a red carpet rolled out of it. "The princess… Yuki!"
A somewhat gentler fanfare directed the crowd's attention to the opening, where a figure had appeared.
With dignity, a lovely young woman with white-blonde hair appeared, clothed in a regal periwinkle dress that matched her eyes perfectly, and a modest headdress set with sapphires. The potential princess blushed charmingly as all eyes fell on her, although she was clearly unnerved by how everyone bowed silently in tribute to her.
To distract herself from nerves, she cast her perfect eyes upward to look at her royal fiancé, a melting smile full of love for him as he looked back at her with just as much affection.
The king looked from his son to his future daughter-in-law, thrilled that his son had finally chosen a bride, after years of sifting carefully through the eligible women of his kingdom. The royal line was secure at last.
And yet…
The grey-haired king sighed sadly as he left the balcony, knowing that he wouldn't be missed for once. His son would be ready to take the throne, after he married the recently promoted maid. After that, he himself would go into retirement.
And do what?!
He growled in irritation as he stomped down the hallway, which was empty of servants for once. "If only there was something left for me!" he cried out in frustration, pounding one fist into an unoffending wall.
"Your majesty?" a grey-haired advisor by the name of Natori asked in concern, gripping his usual notebook with one arm. "Is something troubling you?"
"Yes," the king grunted as he paced the hallway like a raging bull. "After Lune takes over my duties, I'll be forced to go into retirement. Without politics, there's no spice to my life. How will I endure endless hours of nothing?!"
"Perhaps, my king, you could take up a new hobby," Natori suggested, opening his notebook to start writing in it. "I don't think you've taken more than ten visits to the library in your whole life."
"Reading hurts my eyes," the monarch complained like a child, rubbing his huge mismatched orbs sorely. "You know I'd rather have someone read to me."
"There you go, your majesty. Have someone read to you," Natori said gently, like he was speaking to a child.
"But that would get boring after a while! I like riding my prize horses, but I don't like riding alone."
Natori laughed. "There's little you've ever liked doing alone, my king."
The monarch sighed, and looked up at his dead wife's portrait longingly as tears threatened to burst from his large mismatched eyes from years-old grief. "Yes. And no one was ever a better companion than my dear queen. Nirami always knew how to brighten my day, sometimes without even trying."
"We've all missed the queen," Natori concluded sadly, rubbing away a few unexpected tears of his own. "But one cannot resurrect the dead, my king. Perhaps it would be wise to choose a good loyal companion to share your retirement with."
The king stared at his favorite advisor with shock and delight. "That's it, Natori! A proclamation from the king," he began in an oratory voice, making his oldest friend make a final swipe at his tears and start writing in his notepad again to record the proclamation.
"If a maiden is found bearing the exact resemblance of my departed queen, she shall take her place at my side!" the king announced, his mismatched eyes gleaming happily with a slight hint of madness.
Natori bit back a startled oath, and looked at his king in confusion. "Sire, are you sure about this? What if such a woman can't be found?"
"Of course one will," the king boomed as he nearly skipped down the hallway happily. "Have copies made of my wife's portrait, and give them to as many servants and messengers as we can spare. Let it be known that the one to find my bride will be handsomely rewarded."
"And if she's already married?" Natori asked worriedly.
The king slowly poked his head around the corner, his eyes of fire and ice sparkling with madness. "She had better not be," he hissed. "Now get to work, Natori. I'd hate to fire you, like I had to with your incompetent brother. You actually pull your weight around here."
Natori sighed sadly, and bowed low to his monarch. "Yes, Your majesty."
ooOoo
A mere two weeks after the new proclamation was decided by the king, countless men on horses burst from the castle's gate, every single one of them bearing a copy of the queen's portrait. They scattered across the kingdom like dandelion seeds, always searching for the one girl that would make their fortunes. Some found girls that only faintly resembled the deceased queen, while others gave up entirely and returned to the castle empty-handed, only to be turned out again to keep looking for the king's future wife.
This carried on for two months, and the entire kingdom was in an uproar from not only the king's search, but by the fact that the queen had died while the prince was a small child, which in turn meant that the king wished to marry a young woman while he himself was a very old man.
It could have quite possibly carried on for years, except…
ooOoo
Late one night, a stranger stumbled into a tavern, dripping wet from the rain that pounded outside.
A young woman with light brown hair looked up sharply from setting a still-steaming turkey on a table for a group of merchants, and quickly made her way to the soaking man.
"Here, let's put you close to the fire, sir," Hiromi said compassionately, easing him into a chair nice and close to the fireplace after hanging his soaking cloak on a peg to dry.
"Th-thank you," the man stuttered gratefully, holding his hands towards the dancing flames eagerly. "Can I have something warm to eat, miss? I haven't had a hot meal since last week."
"I'll ask Mama to fix something," she said while bowing. Then she turned on her heel and ran for the kitchen.
The stranger sighed happily, rubbing his hands together and huddling as close as he dared to the fire. "At least the reception was warmer here than in the last village," he muttered to himself, sighing a little. 'Not that it will mean anything. It never has, and never will. I hate this stupid assignment.'
"Here you are," the bar maid said, giving him a large bowl of steaming stew and a full tankard of beer. "Anything else I can get you, sir?"
"Um…" the man said hesitantly, un-shouldering the pack so that he could fetch an oilskin-wrapped package from it. "I'm looking for a girl that resembles this woman." He struggled to untie the strings holding the oilskin tight around the portrait, but he still couldn't feel his fingers.
"Let me do that," Hiromi said sympathetically, taking the parcel from him and unwrapping it herself as the man gratefully ate his dinner.
She gently folded the oilskin away from the small portrait, and stared in absolute shock. "You say that you're looking for a girl that looks like the one right here?"
"Yes, but I'll understand if you've never seen a girl like that in your life."
"But I have seen one like this. I grew up with her."
"I know, the chances of finding a girl like that are one in a-WHAT?!" the man screamed, jumping to his feet. "You know a girl like this?! Truly?!"
"Sure," Hiromi said casually, folding the oilskin neatly before setting it on the table. "But Haru would never wear a dress like that. She's never been one for finery. Why do you want to meet her so badly?"
"Exactly like this?" the man begged, pointing at the portrait desperately.
"Well, if Haru were a few years older and dressed like this woman, I doubt you'd be able to tell the difference between them. Hey, everyone!" Hiromi suddenly called out, holding the portrait high over her head for all to see. "Does this remind you of anyone you've ever seen?"
"Sure, that's Haru," an older woman said casually, the other villagers nodding or voicing their agreement.
"That is, if anyone ever managed to persuade her to wear a dress like that," Hiromi's mother said dryly, setting several fresh loaves of bread on the tables as the customers laughed merrily.
The messenger rose to his feet excitedly, and wrapped his still-dripping cloak around him while looking at the light brunette in front of him. "Where does she live? Is she still single? Does she have any family?"
"Hold on there," Hiromi laughed, taking his cloak away with a smile. "Haru lives up the mountain a ways, but there's no chance that you'll be able to go up the path until its light again, at least. Even then, it would be wiser to wait until the mud dries out. But as for your other questions, why do you want to know?"
The messenger straightened proudly. "I'm certain that you've heard of the king's proclamation concerning this portrait."
"No, I haven't," Hiromi said while shaking her head. "We're pretty isolated up here, but what is the king's proclamation?"
"That if a girl is found, resembling the dead queen exactly," he said while patting the portrait pointedly, "then she would become the king's wife."
A dead silence met his words.
Slowly, one of the villagers began to laugh, the others in the room following his example like a tidal wave until the room was filled with mirth.
Hiromi was no better, leaning over a table to keep herself steady. "Y-you'd better keep looking then," she told the perplexed messenger between gasps. "Haru won't be interested, I can assure you."
"Is she married?" he asked with horror.
"No. She's in love with a fiancé that died years ago at sea, but she refuses to accept that he's dead. If you try to go up there and tell her that a king wants to marry her, she'll laugh at you and send you right back down the mountain."
"But she'll be a queen!" the man protested, making Hiromi laugh harder than ever.
"She's too casual to enjoy that kind of thing, and she refuses to believe that Humbert may not come back for her after all."
"Humbert?" the horseman asked, beginning to laugh a little himself.
"You'd better get that out of your system while Haru's not around to hear it," the light brunette told him with a grin. "She tends to get violent when someone offers to disrespect her sweetheart's memory."
"I bet a crown will change her tune," the man said assertively, making the bar maid shake her head slightly.
"And I'll bet that if you press the king's suit for him," Hiromi purred, "you'll be back a few hours after seeing her, in terrible need of a healer."
"She can't be that bad!" he scoffed.
For some reason, that made everyone from the village laugh even harder than before.
"You're right," Hiromi assured him while gathering dirty dishes, still laughing cynically. "She's ten times worse."