THE HEALER OF THE SERPENT —Chapter 5—

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Victoria Leal

THE HEALER OF THE SERPENT FIRST PART —CHAPTER 5—

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5. The Need to Achieve the Impossible.

Gently and with cotton caresses, Adalgisa held the hands of her husband, the King of Älmandur, who kept his gaze on his handkerchief placed on the queens lap. The reddish spots in the center of it discouraged her from smiling as she usually did for her son even though the atmosphere in the tower was always a relief to the spirit.

Albert reveled in the vines on the walls and the eternal sun embracing Älmandur. The man leaned into the window admiring the landscape of the kingdom at his feet, paying special attention to the wall.

—A kingdom blessed by its creators, the Highs Ones from Heaven; people of other stars whose wish for these soils was to eradicate old age and disease. Without a doubt I affirm that I have been young for more than twenty years, as in my best days, what about my ailment? Isn't Älmandur supposed to be free from the evils of the world? Am I the only one in need of a healer for something other than such supreme joy as the arrival of a new creature into the world?

Adalgisa rested her cheek on her husband's shoulder, offering the handkerchief to cover the cough that was taking Albert's breath and strength away.

—Trust Äweldüile and his medicine.

—I do, Ada ...

The queen assisted her beloved Albert in the return to the soft couch designated for his repose, holding him tightly preventing the man from falling abruptly on the green and brown tapestries embroidered in gold.

With a clear gaze and a sweet voice, the healer rested certain herbs in a pot of boiling water. He settled in front of the kings but it was not he who started the conversation but the weakened king.

—This gets worse, doesn't it?

—Your Majesty, you know I must not lie to you.

—How much time do I have?

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Distraught, the man in the long brown hooded robe steadied his elbow on the table where his implements and herbs were arranged in a chest of drawers.

—Consider yourself lucky because, normally, people do not endure three months with these anxieties.

—Don't evade my question. Tell me, how much time I have left— Albert struck his thigh with his fist— I must take care of Wilhelm's coronation as soon as possible. I want to see him on the throne before I go into eternal sleep.

—Honey, calm is prevailing in the current situation.

The healer poured the herbs out of the well, offering the clean water to the king on the soft green velvet armchair.

—If we continue the treatment, I can extend your time until the Herb Month. I assure you that he will be able to enjoy the birthday and wedding of your only begotten son.

—Three months…

Albert left the chair turning his back to the healer and his wife as he looked out the small window that looked out onto the palace garden. He drank the infusion in pauses due to the bubbling sensation.

Adalgisa rested her hand on the healer's. Her voice was torn but she resisted crying firmly.

—Äweldüile, I appreciate your honesty and sacrifices in seeking the means to help my beloved husband.

—It is my duty as a healer to prevent evil."I have fallen into serious fault.

—No, no, no one could have foreseen such a thing. It is no one's responsibility.

—I hope you forgive my lack of expertise. If I were a true healer, like those born in the Älmandur line; Our Majesty would be recovered and live long enough to see his great-­‐great-­‐ grandchildren.

—No…—Adalgisa arranged her armchair next to the rustic nailed chair of the healer who placed his cheek on the queen's shoulder— You are the best healer in the kingdom. Nobody gets sick because of you.

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—I am the best healer in the kingdom because there is no other, disease does not come to our homes because the Guardian of Älmandur wishes it, Your Majesty. But if we were in the time of Äntalmärnen, I would not be practicing these arts as only those born in the Sekemenkare family have the true virtue of healing with mere desire.

—Äweldüile, stop torturing yourself, you've done everything in your power. Surely, my disease is the way—Albert brought the handkerchief to his mouth, coughing intensely, letting the blood smash on the clean surface—... the way the Highs punish our sin, Ada. The queen inched forward to perch beside her husband. The healer kept his implements, flipping through the pages of a worn book.

—Dear love, what's done is done. Our duty is not to stir that in the chests of memories but to advance our eyes towards the horizon.

—I wish it were that simple, Ada. But we conspire against Älmandur by getting rid of the real king and his heir. I'm sure the Äntalmärnen spirit seeks revenge for what we did to his children.

—Albert, you must leave the past where it is.

—I must confess, Your Majesty— The healer held his book, showing a map of the realm—That, apparently, incurable diseases are associated with pains of the soul. If you knows of any ailment in your heart, perhaps you should guide me through it to find the cure together.

—Pains of the soul.

—Yes, Your Majesty. If you need to confess something, we are the best people to help you.

—Maybe I should ...

—Albert!

The king coughed so hard he felt his throat ripped out. The dark blood mixed with some sticky substance on his handkerchief reminded him of how little time he had left in the world.

—Your Majesty, your disease attacks your lungs and your throat.

Obviously, in all this time it has been impossible for me to heal it, which shows his pain in ...

—In what?

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—You keep a secret. Saved words cause pain by attacking the backwater where the verb is born. Release the words so they stop tormenting your insides.

Adalgisa held Albert's arm tightly, giving to Äweldüile a wild gaze.

—Albert needs to rest a moment.

—If you like to do it, I recommend you do it here, where we can watch his cough and ease the pain.

The king kept turning his back on the healer, distracting himself with a gold filigree leaf fluttering in the wind.

—Ada, Äweldüile right. I should stay here for a few days.

—But Albert, do it after the Highs Feast, when the Ambassador retires. Don't let it get a bad impression.

—My good healer—The king turned his head to glance at the man in Brown—You have confessed your incompetence in preventing my pain. However, I release you from your guilt because I have caused this disease of my own free will.

—Majesty…

—But I consider it your duty to find a colleague. A second opinion is always welcome.

Adalgisa smiled, kissing her husband's cheek. The healer showed the map of the kingdom drawn in his recipe book.

—I thought about it, Your Majesty. You see, in my younger years I had a prominent apprentice, to whom I taught some uses of certain roots—Äweldüile pinpointed a hidden village in a forest on the map— He often practiced at Beithe Village.

—Beithe Village… they say the only way to get to it is through the Forest of Oblivion but it is a settlement invented for the tales of the little ones ready to sleep. The mention of something like that seems incredible to me.

—You are correct, Your Majesty. Beithe Village is beyond the Forest of Oblivion.

—How do you guarantee that you'll get out of there alive, remembering your duty?

—Indeed it would be irresponsible to guarantee it, Your Majesty.

—Then don't mention your apprentice and look for someone else!

—At your feet, Your Majesty.

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—Fool, don't you know anyone capable of ...?

—There are some apprentice healers here in the kingdom's capital.

However, I did not guarantee a breakthrough in healing your pain.

—Gather them.

—Very well, I'll do that.

—Confessing my secret will be the last option, do you understand?

—Your Majesty, I can only see your good. If you consider the steps you follow are favorable, who is this poor server to question you? I can only grant alternatives to your will.

Adalgisa and Albert walked up the hill toward the exit of the healer's tower, pausing when the portico was opened by Äweldüile.

—Before I retire...

—Your orders, Your Majesty.

—Give me the name of your apprentice.

—Äerendil, Your Majesty. He is young, by now he must be fifty years old.

—I see, he's one of your kind.

—Trust me, I've seen that boy raise the dead from the graves. He is more than a healer he is ...

—A necromancer?

—No, Your Majesty, my words were missaid. His hands have been blessed by the Highs with an unspeakable gift. He is able to heal anything just by placing his hand in the right area. I only taught him about grinds and elixirs… He has a gift related to the lineage of Älmandur.

—In a nutshell, he is better than you.

—I have to admit it, Your Majesty.

—Äerendil…

Adalgisa's lips were pursed when Albert placed her hand on the healer's shoulder.

—I only know one Äerendil: the first-­‐born of the previous kings of Älmandur. Äerendil, son of Äntalmärnen and Täioiane.

—Your Majesty, I see that your memories have returned.

—That child is dead. I'm sorry to tell you. I hope you remember the great tragedy that attacked Äntalmärnen and his wife Täioiane, they left us after a happy dinner in which their children fell prey to the

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same poison. Unfortunate deaths, my wife and I had to take over the kingdom to avoid chaos...

—Your Majesty, it is you who should mourn that death. I do not know if it is a range of names but if he is who you mention ...

Definitely, the Highs are furious with you since your duty as a Seneschal was to take care of the lives of the kings.

—Äweldüile…

—If you want to lie, don't lie to me, Your Majesty. I gave you the opportunity to confess and repair the damage, but if you want to continue living your farce, what can this humble servant do?

Albert showed his back to the healer by taking his wife's hand, leading the march back to the palace down the stairs and away from the tower where the healer exercised his office.

Once the spiral staircase was lowered, the kings rested on the sofas that Otto had prepared minutes ago. Adalgisa saw the garden and the bridge connecting the palace with the tower from the room dividing arch, reviewing her talk with Äweldüile.

—Sweetheart, I think about the Guardian of Älmandur was mentioned.

—So is. We can find him in the texts of the sealed library. I think Äntalmärnen once spoke of him, if memory serves me well, I remember… that the Guardian keeps the peace in this realm. But he is not the only one, he has brothers who help him with the task.

Unfortunately I cannot say it for sure.

—We should keep rummaging through those books, my dear.

Perhaps, if we speak to the Guardian, you will free yourself from your illness.

—It's a probability but I'm not worried about that, but that healer… that idiot Äweldüile suspects what we did.

—He's not an idiot if he suspects it, darling. What's more, you told him.

—What do you want me to do! I can deal with the death of kings, with the death of his daughter and his husband but that beautiful boy and his big eyes that begged for mercy ... how was he able to put up with the poison in the food and threaten us with a letter opener ?

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Adalgisa pampered her left shoulder as the memory of that letter opener remained on her skin burning at night.

—Get that image out of your mind.

—I can do it, I already did. It is my conscience that screams at me at night ... a child. Just remember him, he looked like Wilhelm today.

How would you feel if, for example; Sebastian cut our dear baby's neck just to usurp his crown?

—Do not say it!

—That look that ignores the evils of the world, those generous arms that don't measure affections .. Äerendil was as pure as Wilhelm is today. Perhaps that is why he was a good healer and was never given the gift of the sword. To think that our little cloud is terrible with weapons. Maybe he has the hidden abilities of his uncle and we should instruct him instead of forcing him to...

—Albert—Adalgisa snuggled up next to her husband, pampering his beard—We will find someone like him. I guarantee you, Älmandur is vast, and if we don't find a capable healer in this realm, we will ask Oceanic Jade to send us a master medic from Siam. We can move our influences even in Arkanus or the Valley of Ise. My feet will travel to Kashmir if with it ...

—It's not about finding a plant or a healer to heal me, Ada. It is about forgetting that I ordered the murder of a child to avoid his ascension to the throne that I seized, I have earned this illness. It's the payment and I deserve it. That child was not an ordinary creature, I am sure my hand would not have trembled if he were an ordinary orphan. He was Äerendil, a High who must preserve his innocence… forever.

—My dear...

—This crown is from Wilhelm. His parents want it. Perhaps, if I hand this over to the true bearer of it— Albert removed the gold ornament on his head, a subtle vine of leaves and peonies—The High Ones will free me from this bloody festering cough. Perhaps if I apologize to that child… Ada, do you think Wilhelm would forgive us? Do you think Äerendil has forgiven us, wherever he is today?

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—Albert, it is unfavorable for your condition to think on what happened thirteen years ago. Come on—Adalgisa helped her husband to sit up— We have lunch with our guests.

—Wilhelm's parents punish me with this bloody cough.

—Albert, let's avoid delays.

—If we were late, Otto would be yelling, Ada. Don't worry.

The king allowed his wife to arrange the gold ornament on his forehead before crossing the arch and meeting the faithful servant again. Smiling chin high, His Majesty Albert hid the pain of his conscience under the golden vestments, typical of the kingdom of Älmandur, obstructing the blood in his mouth along with the unprofitable and unspeakable words but he was not the only one in the Royal Palace keeping secrets.

Wilhelm stretched his back as he walked down the corridor where portraits of his ancestors recalled a glorious past on the walls. The boy stopped from time to time at a paintings to analyze the fine features of his long-­‐eared ancestors. Some used the gold point at the end of the ears like Fritz but others showed a sharp and dexterous knife cut.

Pictures were missing and it was obvious since its shadows were drawn over the centuries and claimed their former masters.

Wilhelm brushed his fingers across the diamond designated to his face just below the portraits of Adalgisa and Albert, his parents.

—Does this place really belong to me? Why do I feel like… I shouldn't be here?

The boy turned away from the gallery with the purpose of nosing around the corner of the corridor where several galleries met in a rotunda from where the wings of the palace greeted each other. He spied left and right knowing that the guards could not leave their posts.

By ensuring the solitude of his footsteps, the prince laughed to himself, slipping down the corridor stealthily until he reached a fake fireplace that he pushed with all his might, finding a passage between the cobwebbed walls.

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He knew the place by heart, his usual tour without a torch was simple and fast, arriving at the end of the passage where he had to push a bookcase full of manuscripts in an illegible language.

Wilhelm entered the sealed library for the umpteenth time, marveling at the frescoes on the ceiling whose central ribbon held by two golden knights read "Sölais Sgälamembar, Älmandur Rïgh" which Wilhelm could easily read and translate as "Son of the Sun, King of the Älmandur ”. The letters could be read even rotated and were crowned by a long line that joined the first letter with the last letter, indicating the end of a sentence.

Wasting no time, the boy ran to the shelf with books thrown at his feet, scrambled manuscripts with burned, wet, and illegible pages but with supporting illustrations that were flattering to understanding.

Wilhelm took with him the green book given by his mother as he was very curious, despite the fact that it was simply empty pages.

Unfortunately, no other manuscript spoke of such an object and he left it on a shelf to search for another and so on, for minutes that should be brief and precise.

Suddenly, as if a torch had illuminated his mind, the boy took the gift book opening it to a random page as if the words written there had called him: "Reab-­‐har Düile Uäine" or "Book of Evergreen Leaves. ” —IS MAGICAL! Also written to be read in any way and linked by a graceful pen curve, the letters on the following pages began to be drawn one by one, giving rise to illustrations and quick notes on some edges.

Wilhelm noted that it was a compilation of knowledge, among them a page that was drawn unfinished and that began to name the children of Sekemenkare ...

But he couldn't read the entire chronology where the names of some well-­‐known ancestors appeared. Furthermore, the dates did not coincide with what was studied thanks to Fritz and in no surrounding books were the von Freiherr family mentioned more than as simple Seneschal in the service of a king called Äntalmärnen and whose territory was small in the lands of Neuenthurm.

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That is to say that not even the family name was real because, coming from such lands, those of Neuenthurm; "Von Freiherr" was an invention. Wilhelm frowned taking the book with him to the table but its pages were moldy and the scribe's letters were distorted creating puzzles rather than words. However, the boy found a portrait of someone familiar. At the bottom of the paper, a ribbon contained the name of the face immortalized there: Äntaldur, second son of Älmandur.

It was about a Young man in his early thirties but the book said he was at least sixty years old.

—Ritter ... this child is Ritter.

The page was ripped out without subtlety, folded into four parts, and tucked into a pocket of the pants used for sword training.

Wilhelm took his green cover book and returned to the hiding place behind the bookcase when he heard the footsteps of some guards opening the gates of the banned library.

Returning to the portrait gallery, the prince wiped his sweaty forehead with his sleeve, smiling as he marched towards the second corridor decorated by the faces of his ancestors, meeting the upset Fritz and Benedikt who took the laughing boy to their room where they plunged the heir into the hot tub.

Wilhelm threw water on Fritz and a bar of soap on Benedikt before taking off his clothes and bathing properly. The man in red dipped the naked boy in the water but it would not be so easy to clean him because Wilhelm wanted to talk to Ritter and outside of the scheduled lunch. He struggled with his servant, throwing sponges, rags and foam into their eyes until he no longer had the strength as Fritz climbed into the tub to hold him while his colleague brushed the grime off his earthy hair.

—Why did you go back to training!

—How can I be better with the sword if I don't practice! LET ME GO OUT! —NO UNTIL YOU'RE CLEAN, SHORT-­‐EARED GULF! —Beni, that…—Wilhelm gave up the fight, showing disappointment—That was a very low blow, you know how much I want those ears…

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—Get out of there, I have to put clothes on you. We are going to have lunch, everyone is already seated and you are still there...

Wilhelm let Fritz leave the tub and the room in search of new clothes to match the moment. Benedikt dried the boy's body and dressed him hastily, tossing the gold tiara with obvious carelessness while untangling the wet locks of the young keeping his gaze down.

—Thank you, Beni.

—Can I know why are you saying it?

—Is for your patience.

—Highness, for me it is a pleasure to be at your feet—Benedikt turned the boy, adjusting the shoulders of the indigo tunic—But change that face, please. There are delicious delicacies on the table awaiting your arrival and your parents are eager to see you.

Wilhelm trotted quickly down the corridor, noting his unwarranted delay to those unaware of his forays into the palace tunnels.

Benedikt and Fritz followed him with long strides that were certainly difficult for the plump man in red who wiped his forehead with his palm at every step, admiring Fritz's physical condition.

The prince arrived at a portico through which he sniffed before entering, discovering that the imagined tension in the guests was only an imaginary. The king laughed so loudly that no one refused to laugh and drink because the delicacies were not yet served by the women in the corners of the room.

—It's okay, my dad already has everyone at his feet.

—That doesn't justify your being late everywhere.

The boy entered and all eyes were fixed on him between laughter and invitations. Adalgisa was the first to leave the table to take the little boy's hand and seat him in a designated place in front of her fiancee who wore the most flirtatious veil ever seen, embroidered with subtle morning flowers. To her right was her father, the newcomer Hagen, a man with a heavy hand who clapped his brother on the back, increasing the volume of the jokes. To Frauke's left was Helmut, who merely raised his glass to Wilhelm in a silent, pained toast. At the right hand of Wilhelm, his mother kept the conversation always alive and very enthusiastic in the holiday that

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would soon be celebrated in honor of the arrival of the Highs to the world, a great attraction for Oceanic Jade, settled at the other head of the table, absorbing liquor like the sand in front of the sea.

Ritter drank from the prince, so thoughtful that he didn't even bother to join the conversation.

—Dear Seneschal—Wilhelm looked at Ritter, admiring his long ears full of gold earings—You look overwhelmed and it is too early to teach such expressions.

—My apologies, young man—Ritter lowered the glass—Näurie was in pain last night. Now she is resting but my chest is twisting thinking about last night. My wife barely closed her eyes and so did I. A maid in dark robes set four trays of hot meals before the interlocutors, refilling their glasses of iced wort.

—Pains? Is your wife ill?

—My dear, Näurie is a fragile creature right now. The same thing happened with our firstborn. Tëithriel was born two months early, living a difficult-­‐breathing childhood.

—Ritter, if you're so worried about your wife, why don't you meet her? She needs you and she will be understood.

—Do you authorize me?

—I don't understand why you hasn't talked to the king, he'll probably even push you towards your wife.

Ritter kissed the boy's hand, stroking it before releasing it, rummaging in his pocket, searching for a gift delivered in soft white fur wrap.

—Endlessly grateful, Your Highness.

—Yes… er… you're welcome… can I see the content?

—Dërieder, mön Ëruendil...

Wilhelm recognized the language understanding that he was being asked to wait for the perfect moment to open the gift, but why did the word Ëruendil sound different from the others?

Nodding mutely, Wilhelm allowed Ritter to leave the table amid the noisy words of the king, who did not even know of the absence of the Seneschal but that one in charge of monitoring the conversation was Sebastian. He drank wine quietly, chatting between his sister

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and Helmut. Both shared secret glances in the seconds that Sebastian left for some food, from time to time Helmut stretched his long legs under the table to touch the tip of the embroidered shoe of Lotus who hid her shame aided by a napkin.

Wilhelm noticed that his cousin and the young girl shared a secret, as the sparkle in their eyes showed it. They chatted with flirtatious giggles, completely ignoring the unwelcome Sebastian in the middle. The boy was laughing to himself when Sebastian managed to get Helmut's attention by telling him about the dates they conquered the lands in the south. He named them incorrect only to be corrected by the prince's cousin whose voice was as booming as that of his uncle, the king.

And so all the men at the table began to argue about newly discovered relatives in other lands, Jade himself spoke of the link between Älmandur and Siam, Sebastian recited the entire genealogy of the incredulous Ambassador who did not hide his contentment, clapping his hands open.

Frauke ate laughing from time to time, especially when the tone of the discussion was raised being appeased by Adalgisa who also had a lot to say about the history of her kingdom and blah, blah, blah…

Wilhelm could not follow the course. He felt dizzy from every word pounding his eardrums and the wort didn't get him drunk enough to feel comfortable. Jealousy seized him when his father embraced Helmut, ruffling his wavy golden hair and congratulating him on his exploits in the north, south and how much land belonged to the von Freiherr. The tone of the talk changed when asked about some secret fiancée who was flatly denied but it was an open secret that he was attracted to the youngest of the Klotzbachs.

They both refused, achieving a smile from Sebastian, who toasted the "no engagement".

Not even the music was to Wilhelm's liking, the boy sank into the cushions of his armchair, sliding almost under the table. He used his bad posture to open the gift, finding a filigree leaf carved in gold. If he had had long ears, we would have seen the gesture of lifting them. Wilhelm took a detailed look at the object and remembered where he had seen it before: it belonged to the Ceramic Island tree,

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kingdom from which the Highs descended, according to the books stolen from that hidden library.

Hiding the jewel from the watchful eyes of Benedikt and Fritz chatting in a corner of the room, Wilhelm took a portion of the fruity smoothie devouring the sweet taste without caution as no one cared.

Frauke also joined in the praise for her brother who was patient and loving at the table despite the fact that he had never felt respect for his younger sister.

The prince noticed certain greenish spots on the long nails of his fiancée, quickly forgetting the matter when the maid offered him a piece of roasted fowl in walnut sauce and mashed potatoes with cabbage. Grateful, the boy began his lunch, noting that the famous pickled cabbage was the worst idea ever created, making his palate bitter.

After that meal everything tasted the same, between sulfur and watered down bicarbonate but he easily forgot it when he got a talk with Frauke who invited Lotus. Together the three, already separated from the group, shared funny memories and spontaneous laughter between must and chopped fruits with cream.

The meeting ended when the meal did, a moment of relief for the ignored, crestfallen prince. He slipped away in the middle of Albert's speech, pouting Benedikt and Fritz who recognized the need for his master, taking him to a place where he could relax for a moment.

—I hope all these people leave soon, so much noise is hammering my head—Wilhelm advanced down the corridor with crossed arms, licking his lips to remove the bitter taste of the cabbage—On top of that, the food was weird, I'm glad to know that your menu was different.

—If I may, Little Highness... my eyes saw how you devoured dessert before lunch. It is logical that afterwards everything tastes strange.

—You may be right, Beni... but it was an apple smoothie, not Absinthe.

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The prince stopped halfway to the library where he would be instructed in his duties, admiring the slenderness of who was Älmandur, the first king.

—You do not believe, my faithful friends; that my family is a little strange?

—Your Highness, what is the reason for such a confession?

—Well, my parents and I have human names, why don't we have High names, like my ancestors?

Fritz and Benedikt exchanged glances, maintaining the two-­‐step distance they always gave the prince.

—You give us joy today, Your Highness.

—How? The library doors were pushed open by Benedikt, who was in charge of closing them once Fritz and Wilhelm settled in at the central desk.

—Well, our sweet lady has asked us to talk about it.

—About time—Wilhelm refused to stand still at the desk, arranging the books on the cabinet—Because there are so many loose ends.

And the worst part is that I feel Sebastian more knowledgeable about my past.

—Your Highness, don't say that.

—Didn't you hear what he said at lunch? He is a history book, not a human. Cite bizarre dates and names; he knows stories from the cavern man times, as if he had been there! And he knows about rules, about non-­‐existent places and machines in Älmandur... and he even had the luxury of reciting to Jade's relatives, as if the names were easy to remember.

—You can be a history book too, if you like. Keep in mind that young Klotzbach is six years older than you.

—Of course I am capable of being like him! But the one who left me speechless is Helmut. If I am not careful, he is going to take off my crown… he has my father's favor and whole books full of virtues.

Fritz and Benedikt looked at each other again in silence, opening a large book with yellowed pages without getting the attention of the boy, who was reviewing illustrations.

—Don't say that, Little Highness.

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—He is even aware of the illness that afflict the king.

—Excuse me?

—Do not pretend ignorance, our king has informed me of his incurable disease. This festival, the guests… everything indicates that the engagement ceremony will take place within these days— Wilhelm let a knife pierce his heart, shredding his voice—My wedding, my coronation… If the king were not going to leave this world, why was I crowned heir two months ago? Helmut is four years older and has a splendid preparation as well as being a magnanimous Knight. Ritter is skilled in politics and strategy, thanks to his management we have the Ambassador here today.

—But Your Highness, he's not from your family...

—Sebastian is not my relative either and look where he is. His parents only took the trouble to express themselves through a letter, it is his first-­‐born who takes care of everything. Hagen, my uncle, trusts Helmut so much that he has taken the liberty of confessing his return to his domain... that is, Helmut is representing the house of von Freiherr... and I ... all I have done is smile, spread hugs and fall facing the swords of all the visitors. In short, he plays me as a buffoon.

Benedikt hugged the boy, pulling him away from the bookcase. He was correcting the prince's tousled hair as he stepped forward, out of reach of the servants.

—I'm not that naive. All these rush are justified. But why? I have never been in battle, I have never participated in politics, and I have been given a responsibility for which I am not capable.

Fritz clenched his fists. On the table was Adalgisa's gift, the book wrapped in green silk and blank pages. The bony-­‐bodied man parted his lips from him as the guest's hollow voice entered the library.

—Young prince. If your father has granted you such a duty, it is because you has the appropriate virtues for it.

—Oceanic Jade!—Wilhelm whirled around, kissing the hand of who could be his father—I am heartily sorry for all that you has heard.

—Your Highness—The Ambassador had his hands folded behind his back—I'll tell you a family secret.

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—I swear this room is safe.

—I appreciate your oath, Your Highness. That being the case, I will proceed with my story. I am the first-­‐born of the king of Siam, but the one who was crowned to the throne was my younger brother, Crimson Veil.

—May I know why?

—My father, King Chrysanthemum of Gold; found no strength in me.

—Strength?

—So is. As king, you must be responsible for the men who decide to die under your name. As a king, make yourself a good strategist, a good dealer, a good father—Jade affirmed his hand on his chest— I am influenceable.

—Is that why his name is related to the waters?

—My mind wanders, it is impossible to focus on one point. You are right, that is why my teacher chose this name for me.

—But you has managed to extract the good from that situation, right? I guess it's the will of your teacher.

—You are right, little Prince.

—I would like to know why the crown has fallen to your younger brother, dear Jade.

—Our king put me to the test for a few months. A town was handed over to me under jurisdiction and I only managed to get my subjects to lugh at me. Maybe my empathic abilities are great but ruling a kingdom? I can barely handle the ships, Your Highness. The people of Siam are happy not to have me as sovereign.

—Listening to you, I feel more disappointed in myself.

—Your Highness, you do not wish to understand what I am narrating. Look at yourself, who kept the nobles away from political talks? Tell me, who has made the boring maids laugh and calmed the tensions between the Seneschal and the Marquis? Helmut, your beloved relative; hasn't he talked freely with your father because of you?

—Do you really think I was the amalgamation of uneasiness?

—If it wasn't you, who? Ritter could have but he preferred to withdraw in favor of his wife and he did so under your kind permission.

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—Ritter is an enigma to me. It would be infamous of me to deny an attraction to his person. I do not know why but I would love... to be closer to him. I am sure he has secret virtues.

—Remember your virtues, little heir. You have a gift with people.

To be king, you don't just need to go to war, put on a crown, and sit on a throne. If there are no people under your cause, what use are titles and honors? Believe me, this server learned its lesson with blows. Being a king is easy, how complex is being a leader and you have plenty of that talent. You just need to polish it up a bit and gain more confidence.

Wilhelm remembered the texts read about Siam, bowing to the Ambassador.

—Your words are admirable, dear Jade. The only thing left for me is to thank you from my soul, guaranteeing that I will meditate on your advice.

Oceanic Jade was smiling with pleasure when the boy's back was straightened.

—Little prince, I must inform you that I have not come to listen to your private conversation. It was an accident and I apologize.

—Oh no, I thank you for listening to my immaturity with patience… and taking the trouble to advise me knowing that I am immature.

—Your Highness, I have come here to give you a gift but please, do noT feel obliged to return the gesture. It is something personal, it does not relate to the kingdom of Siam.

—Your advice has been more than enough.

The Ambassador moved a piece of his bright green garb, handing over the gold filigree leaf.

—It belongs to you, little Prince. It's the emblem of your family, right?

Benedikt and Fritz raised their ears to the point that they escaped from the hair perfectly arranged by the maids. Oceanic Jade showed a special sparkle in his eyes when he noticed the features of the High in those faithful silent men.

—That's right, Ambassador... but how do you ...

—Keep it as proof of friendship between us.

—But…

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—Don't worry. I have told you that it is a personal gift—Jade removed the lock whose presence covered Wilhelm's small round ears—Now, allow me to retire to rest. Tomorrow we celebrate your ancestors and I wish to live up to it.

—Yes… I recommend you to rest. It was an honor, dear Jade.

—The honor of being with you is greater, little heir, loyal servants.

Let the High ones watch over your Immortal steps.

—May the High Ones grant you the long-­‐awaited rest.

—See you later.

The Ambassador bowed with his hand on his chest before retreating using the same door that welcomed him. Benedikt covered his friend's ears when Wilhelm turned, squinting to concentrate on the jewel.

—Fritz, tell me it's the one you had in your pocket.

Benedikt was hiding behind a screen when his colleague showed the leaf that he kept on his tunic.

—No, Your Highness, it is a...

—How did Jade know that this is my family's emblem? Not that many people know, my parents, my uncles, Helmut and I know. I'm sure not even Frauke knows about it, much less Ritter. And this is not a seedy leaf on any tree. Beni, what are you doing back there?

—Highness, wait for me. My knees hurt and I came to massage them a bit...

Wilhelm flung himself into the nearest chair, laying the jewel on the desk and exhaling every last breath present in his body.

—If I am crowned tomorrow, I will make Älmandur a waste. I have no idea what is happening in the bastions and in the villages outside, hopefully I found out about the arrival of the Ambassador.

There are incompetent princes and then there is me, a mere flower vase in the center of the table who cannot even afford to walk the streets.

—Your Highness, don't say that. We all see your inner fire and virtues.

—My virtues for kingship begins where my embroidery skills ends.

—Your Highness, you ... can you embroider?

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The smiling Benedikt settled down next to Fritz, whose right ear was slipping, a detail noticed only by the young prince who watched without judgment but longing for the day when his own ears would be sharpened.

—I wish I knew.

Relaxing before going over the appropriate texts, the trio examined the filigree leaf carefully. Fritz and Benedikt knew the goldsmith behind the artwork but confessing it to the prince could lead to problems with the kings and agreements made with Ritter and Äweldüile.

They were so focused on their duties that they did not notice Sebastian, his ear was so flattened against the library door that his skin was flushed and fiery but that did not detract from his curiosity. Beside him, Lotus was looking at him disapprovingly, arms crossed.

—I can't believe what you're doing, you're acting like a kid.

—Sht! The Ambassador spoke with Wilhelm and...

—Get out of there!—Lotus was tugging at her brother's sleeve— Don't be nosy!

—Just a little more, my precious.

—Nothing at all! I'll rip your ears off!

—When you want, after all I only need this hole for air to pass through, I give you my ears.

—You are not like that!

—Oh yes, of course I am. I'm the worst gossip, I find out about everything and I play the idiot, what better? Do you really think that our father and grandfather inherited the current situation to us by being honest? Pft, let me listen.

The boy focused his attention on the meager resonance, letting Lotus try to push him away.

—It's amazing what you said.

—It's even more incredible that I inherited this talent from our father, blessed ears!

—You call it atalent now...

—Sht! —Stop!

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Sebastian left the portico, analyzing the little information obtained, holding his tiny chin.

—Lotus, do you know where the boys are?

—Um... I think I heard them mention the Algid Room. Maybe they play chess or what do I know, I don't know what men do when they get together.

—Let's go there then.

—Oh no, now what did you come up with ...

—Just follow me, a small gesture can move mountains!

—Sometimes I want a steady hand to ...

—To make me more affectionate and tell me that you adore me, my precious?

—To beat you up like our father did when you were a child and beat Helmut.

The brothers chose a corridor lit by hundreds of lighted lamps, a shortcut that would take them to the Algid Room without the need to use the library and the ancestors corridor where the portraits distracted the walker.

—Oh, what wonderful days I beat his nose to pieces! Now we have to behave like all gentlemen, a pity. In the morning my dagger almost fell off...

—I hope you don't say that nonsense in front of him because I assure you he has bad memories of those "wonderful days."

—Oh, it was just child nonsense.

—Do you know that his father also beat him and that it's your fault he has that crooked tooth?

—Ritter also hit Helmut and he wasn't so little back then.

—Stop now!

—The only one who never hit him is Wilhelm, because he was very small ... now that I say that, do you remember that Frauke also kicked Helmut? That poor man was born to be a training dummy, I think she was the one who sent him to bed for a month after kicking his groin.

—Are you sure they were playing!?

23

—Of course we did, we played Pirates and Knights. Wilhelm and Helmut were the pirates but later they didn't want to play, I guess they grew up to be boring.

—You really are… unbearable.

Sebastian turned to hug his sister, kissing her cheeks.

—But you still love me, right?

—What can I do? I have no choice. They say that in all families there is a drunk, an inverted and an unbearable. I would have preferred to be the sister of the inverted and the drunkard.

—The drunkard is Helmut, without a doubt and I am the unbearable beautiful one. Who is the inverted one? I had no idea that there is one.

—Don't you care who the drunk is? It's not Helmut.

—All Knights are drunk, so we forget what we're doing, but inverted? You don't see that every day! Tell me, who do we cut off his head?

The boy carried his sister like a sack of potatoes on his shoulder, circulating through the corridor receiving small lashes on her shoulders.

—Put me down!

—If you tell me who the inverted one is! I feel like chopping off heads and stabbing livers!

—Sebastian Bernhardt Holger Klotzbach, leave me alone!

—Wow, she called me by my full name. The maid is angry. It was a joke, okay?

—At least I would have played with dolls with him and not save him from Ritter's kicks!

—Do not say that! I had a great time, he taught me to defend my ribs, I had a fucked up one but a good bandage and that's it.

—Watch your tongue!

—Oops, sorry. Forgot I am not with the boys.

Sebastian stopped in front of the door with the carving of the healer and his staff, squeezing Lotus so she wouldn't fall with the shaking.

—Whatever you say. The worst thing is that you continue to "play Knights" but now with real weapons…

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—We're not playing my precious, WE ARE Knights… it's Wilhelm, right? He shows it. He is always talking about his cousin and chasing him.

—LOWER ME OR I'LL SAY THE INVERTED IT'S YOU! This way you will receive the beating of your life and stop being such an idiot!

—Yeah, well, but don't get mad, spinster.

—I'm a spinster because YOU scare all my fiancees! I'm going to die old and parched, full of cats and crocheted cloths!

—But you don't need another man, my dear. Will someone love you more than me? I do not believe it.

Lotus was perched so delicately on the carpet that she, for an instant, felt her heels float on fluffy clouds of sugar.

The girl fixed her eyes on those of her brother who smiled placidly as he firmly held the narrow waist of the maiden.

—You are crazy ... you're my brother.

—You think I don't know? That thought tends to torture me at night.

Lotus felt a caress on her chin, she fearfully freed herself from Sebastian's sinewy hands pushing the porch to run to the Algid Hall where Helmut and Ritter played an exciting and close game of chess with bets.

The girl watched the plays without understanding why one tile was moving so strangely while the other barely took a step. The players noticed the presence of the sweet spectator when Ritter made a checkmate.

—Again…

—Helmut, you are impatient. Here and with your sword.

—Shit, I no longer have anyzing to pay the gamble. I lozt even my underwear...

—How about that necklace?

—You retard, it belonged to my mother. I drank too much. Fuck you Ritter, you beat me. Shit, you are juzt a Trënti…

—Leave it dear Helmut, we better admire the beauty of this flower born in the morning.

—Oh, Helmut ...

—Mizz Lotuz! Did you hear me talk about…?

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—Yes Helmut, she heard you talking about your cheap intimacies that no one cares about. Sorry, I'll keep your rings and this bracelet.

I wish you luck next time.

—Mizerable gold eater Trënti...

Ritter took the jewels on the table, hiding them in a pouch at his waist. He stretched his legs towards the window from where he was analyzing the conversation, sipping a glass of wine.

—What bringz you to watch zuch a boring meeting, little mizz?" Oh, what a pity, you came with your brother.

—Hello, Helmut! Nice to greet you—Sebastian tapped Helmut on the shoulder, who gestured something like a friendly smile—Let me know when you want a rematch.

—Doez it zeem to you today, once the moon poized among the branchez of the fir tree in the garden?

—I long for that moment! I hope you don't give me an advantage.

—Dream with that, Zebaztian.

Ritter felt the tension in Lotus's back, offering her a couch to rest her feet. The girl allowed the Secheschal to guide her steps to the window where she settled, admiring the flowers covered in silver dew.

—They're still small, at least that's what I long to believe. Deep down, my heart knows it's jealousy.

—Unfortunately it is so, my dear.

Sebastian trotted over to sit next to his sister, taking her hand while Helmut rearranged the pieces on the board, analyzing the previous moves.

—Gentlemen, we have a proposal for you.

—Oh no, don't get me into your nonsense Sebi...

—What is it, young man?

—You see, in our eagerness to positively impress the prince, we've screwed it up.

—In what way have we hurt the prince?

—We lowered his self-­‐esteem to his ankles, a complete clumsiness...

Helmut, come here! The king treated you as if you were his son and ignored his and all you did was let yourself be flattered!

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Helmut sipped a drink with Ritter, who was standing in the corner of the bearskin chair. The Seneschal frown was knotty, furious, and disappointed evident in his hoarse voice.

—Was it a mistake to take care of my wife, you little children?

—Ugh Ritter, don't ztart. Wilhelm haz alwayz doubted about himzel, iz my fault being loved?

—By all my ancestors, who told me that I should tolerate these kids?

—Wilhelm is inzecure, too much I would zay...

—Maybe because SOMEONE HAMMED HIM A LOT, don't you think?

Sebastian and Ritter cleared their throat simultaneously but the Seneschal acknowledged their fault.

—Miss, it was never my intention to mistreat the heir, I only dedicated myself to teach him how to defend himself from a certain satrap next to him.

—How poisoned your tongue iz, dear Ritter.

The Seneschal finished his serving of wine only to rush into the next, enjoying the texture and aroma of the liquor without paying attention to the world.

—But what he's saying is true. I also had a couple of moves, if it weren't for Ritter, I wouldn't have a tooth in place.

—That's not the point!

—Ay Sebi, admit that you are cornered...

Sebastian looked at the window to refresh his mind but the discomfort was impossible to clean.

—From this moment on, we will stop being so .. what would be the perfect word?

—No idea, young man. This meeting of yours is ridiculous. You act like you are eight years old.

—This is for the good of our prince!

—Sebi, your oath is with the lands and waters of Älmandur, not with its kings...

—Precious, if we don't have a good king, how can we have good lands and great waters? We'll be good men to the prince, okay? No bragging or praising our virtues UNLESS WILHELM wants it that way, understand?

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— What a drag. I wouldn't even do zomething zo… condescending, I am not a boot licker.

—Leave them, Helmut. That is the way the Klotzbachs raise their children, they try to crawl to kiss the nearest feet in order to get some coins.

The three young men discussing the plan felt that the words had been stolen from them. Trying to figure out the correct way to continue the dialogue, they looked at each other before judging Ritter's attitude.

—Man, you calm yourzelf.

—Honest men are lacking. If nobody wants to be, I take responsibility.

—A thing iz being honezt and another iz going through life offending people. Apologize right now.

The Seneschal set the glass on the coffee table, kneeling at Lotus's feet, kissing her fingers.

—My pardons, miss.

—Do it with Zebaztian and hiz family too.

Reluctantly the man in blue agreed to Helmut's order, repeating the gesture with the boy.

—I am sorry for my offenses towards your name.

—Is excused.

—Now, if I may, I have more important unfinished business.

—Ritter, my words will sound childish but I really wish the good of the prince...

—Näurie and I will go with the healer. The truth is that the time to chat with you is over for today and for the rest of the month.

Ritter walked away from the boys, returning to the board Helmut abandoned after trying to order it. The man moved a piece for a second checkmate.

—Thiz will not grow old with that mood. Zomeone will cut hiz neck before that.

The Seneschal smiled walking to the exit of the room without addressing the possible sayings of the assembled young people.

—I will take it as a compliment, my dear Helmut.

—I'll take the "dear" as a zarcazm.

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—The myth is true...

—What are you talking about, Zebaztian.

—The poor fellow iz only nice when a woman talkz to him.

—Don't believe it, Ritter stay alive and is nice to our prince.

The portico closed by the Seneschal resounded the force, making the walls creak.

Sebastian's gaze remained fixed on the door, searching for the reason why Ritter grew bitter with the passage of time, showing it openly and totally unpunished.

Helmut and Lotus exchanged glances without stopping for further contact but an agreement between them was evident. They winked, arranging a private meeting when the night embraced Älmandur.

The meeting ended without an agreement, Sebastian sighed taking his sister who knows where but he could not keep her forever.

The moon was shedding its goodness on the grasslands when Lotus escaped through her bedroom window, using her sheets as a rope to the palace garden. She didn't get to look at the sky when she met Helmut who was spying on them behind a tree. The young man took the maiden's hand leading her to a swing held between the branches of two thick trees. They shared a hug under the shade of a fir tree talking about matters in which it is not appropriate to interfere because they are private.

The couple was discovered by Adalgisa who pretended not to know the fact, being an accomplice of the secret. She closed the curtain in her room, peering through the veil at the night light. She was counting the spots on the moon.

She remembered that night in which she and Albert entered the bedroom of the boy who did not sleep or look dizzy from poisoned food but promptly and alertly took a letter opener like a dagger.

With big bright eyes, the boy showed a certain stupor but did not let it win him. Adalgisa felt a withdrawal in his chest and so did Albert, who sheathed his sword.

—The Highs mind matures too soon.

—Darling, only he remains.

The queen caressed her left shoulder, where the scar on the letter opener reminded her of the fierceness of a prince in love with his

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duties. Adalgisa moved away from the window, washing her hands in the basin on the nightstand. The woman was separating the blankets when heard the knocks in a familiar rhythm at her bedroom door.

Seconds later, Wilhelm leaned out, hugging a pillow as big as him.

—May l?

—Of course, beautiful cloud.

The boy jumped onto the bed, where was snuggled by a happy mother whose smile was indisputable. She kissed the boy's forehead, holding him in her arms.

—I couldn't go to rest without first wishing you sweet dreams, mommy.

—My beautiful little thing, did you say goodbye to dad?

—I visited in his office. He put my ribs together and said good night.

—Very good, very good.

—I doubt I can sleep with the bone pain he gave me but I will try.

Adalgisa dipped Wilhelm into the blankets.

—Ah, my love, is that nobody can stand the desire to love you.

—If you say so…

The boy put down the bedding to yawn by the door.

—I'm going now. I need to rest to be fresh-­‐minded tomorrow morning.

—Love, wait—Adalgisa took her son's hands, sitting him on the bed, pampering his cheek.—I have to ask you something.

—All for you, mommy.

The woman felt a tear in her voice, avoiding uttering a word before regaining her strength. She hugged Wilhelm tightly, kissing the top of his head.

—Dad needs a healer who can give him a second opinion, little cloud.

—Um… finding a healer is bliss already. Finding a second is asking the orange tree for nuts.

—Still, we must try.

—How much time did Äweldüile gave him?

—My child...

—Mommy, he told me everything.

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—Absolutely everything?

—Yes, everything.

—So ... you forgive us?

Wilhelm's eyes widened like never before, looking at his mother with concern and bewilderment.

—Forgive you? How can I ...? I mean, no ... I mean, what should I answer to such a question? You are my parents… I couldn't hold a grudge against you for anything.

Adalgisa squeezed the boy to the point of feeling her heartbeat against his.

—You don't know how much you ease my soul— A river slid down the queen's cheeks, who was thinking of the child's mother in her arms—I ... I would like to say something but I can't ... except that I love you with all my heart. I am able to give my last breath to see you smile… I don't have something more valuable than your life, my love… I waited so many years to be a mother, I don't want to lose you.

—But mommy, why are you crying?—Wilhelm wiped his mother's tears with the end of a sheet—You haven't hurt me, why should I forgive you?

—My love…

—I understand the reason why the illness was hidden from me, but it does not merit an act such as "forgiveness." It is not a crime, you did it to avoid discomfort... it is understandable. In your place, I would do the same.

The woman pushed the boy away, noticing that Albert hadn't told him "everything." Adalgisa sighed holding her son's face in her hands.

—Little cloud ... then, will you do me the favor of finding a healer for dad?

Wilhelm threw up his arms, laughing as he jumped off the bed.

—Of course!

—That's my prince!

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