A Suitor for the Princess - Chapter 9

She would often look longingly at the purple, organdy dress that had been specially tailored for her D-day, the day when she’d greet her suitor with a garland of fragrant roses. She had already decided that she’d softly express her deep love for him at that very moment! Now she agonized over whether she’d ever greet any one at all! She was heart-broken. Even her best friend Myara failed to keep her in good spirits. Princess Sara begged to be left alone in her well-decorated chamber, with her depressing thoughts.

One day, she chanced upon two guards discussing Juan. They had their backs to her and were lost in their discussion. One of them was saying, “I wonder what will happen to that lad now, most of all, what will happen to the Kingdom of Regina and the fair Princess? What about commoners like us, in the face of an aggression by invaders?” The Princess’ hair stood on end. Why were they discussing such solemn topics and what had happened to her Juan? She strained her ears and listened from her hiding place behind a massive pillar in the courtyard of the palace. Then she heard the other guard saying in a pitying voice, “Poor Juan. Neither did he complete his task, nor did he get the Princess’ hand! He only ended being blinded and imprisoned in the shrine for the rest of his life. What a pity!”

On hearing this terrible news, the Princess let out a strangled, high-pitched cry and swooned. The two guards, caught unawares, whirled around, saw her prone figure and looked at each other guiltily. They had let the cat out of the bag. They were terribly embarrassed and feared the wrath of the King. They sprinkled water on her, by bringing handfuls from the fountain in the courtyard and looked around stealthily to see if anyone had seen that scene. When they were satisfied, that they were alone with the Princess, they heaved a huge sigh of relief. When she came to, they pleaded her to not reveal anything to the King. She in turn bargained with them to tell her the truth about Juan’s accident and disappearance.

As she heard every detail, she wept silently, with sobs wracking her slender frame. To say that she was distraught was an understatement. Still she composed herself and promised them saying, “You have my word, I’ll not betray your confidence.  But do keep me informed about the further developments from time to time.” The guards marveled at her magnanimity and her stoic composure in the face of this great personal tragedy. Then they left her alone in her private mourning.

At this point, Martha was confused. Why had she brought in tragedy so early in her story? The young lad had just begun his task and on the every first day, she had banished him to the shrine, made the Princess sorrowful and nearly finished her story! She fretted and fumed at her stupidity and mulled over whether she should rewrite the story, after all! She decided that she’d have something to eat and fortify herself and then maybe she could take a break from her all-consuming writing and ponder over the course of unfortunate events in her story. She even considered going to her publisher’s office and running the story through the Editor to see what he felt about it.

She was sure that he would be objective and give her valuable inputs to improve her story. But immediately, she scoffed at her own idea. Why should I let anyone else decide what my characters should or shouldn’t do in my story? Let me be the judge! Yes, it was certainly not like her to take any one’s help in refining her story. Hence she resolved to find a way out of that impasse herself. Maybe a short nap would do the trick!

She rose from her desk, imagining her hero and heroine frowning behind her back and went into the kitchen. Being confused about the time of the day, she glanced at the huge grand-father clock with a huge pendulum, hanging in the alcove in the passage and saw that it was mid-night. She frowned as she realized that her schedule was totally in a state of disarray. She’d never had dinner at midnight! She tossed a salad of beetroot slices, carrots, lettuce and smoked salmon; that she got from the freezer and ate the cold meal, chewing in silence. Silence meant that her characters weren’t talking inside her head then. She had silenced them for the moment though she knew that they’d soon be squabbling there! They seldom gifted her solitude.

After the meal, she put the remnants away and walked slowly into her cozy bedroom. Suddenly she shivered as a cold draught blew in from the huge French windows. She hastened to close them and turned to see Juan lying on her bed, tired and scarred. His right eye was swollen, red and appeared vacant. With a start she realized that he was blinded in one eye. Her heart went out to him. She was responsible for his pitiable plight. She walked over to him and started fussing over him. “Juan, my dear, wake up. Have you had anything to eat at all? How did you escape from the shrine?”

Juan just lay there, motionless, in his tattered peasant’s clothes with a hand over his forehead. Tears silently streamed down his cheeks, as he moaned softly, “Sara, dear Sara, where’ve you been, my dear? I’m sorry that I couldn’t fulfill my promise to you. I failed miserably in the task set by your father, the Honorable King of Regina. I failed myself. Worse, I failed my beloved mother. Oh, why wasn’t I blinded in both eyes, so that I couldn’t have seen the remorse and reproach in her lovely eyes!”

With a flash of inspiration, Martha knew that she didn’t want her hero to be a loser! Yes, she’d revise her story and bring him back from the jaws of death. But first, he had to be brought out from that shrine. She racked her brains for a solution. But her brain appeared fagged and her thoughts were incoherent. She decided to have that nap. But she didn’t want to disturb her grieving and wounded hero, hence she took a pillow and tiptoed into her living-room and went to sleep on the couch there. She was surprised to see that it was already occupied. 

Sara was sleeping there, her rose-pink lips slightly open, her long and shining mane, strewn across the sides of the couch and over her body. She wore a golden sheath and appeared radiant like the Goddess Venus. She tossed and turned in her sleep and Martha feared that she’d fall from the narrow couch in her restless sleep. She paused as she heard Sara moaning, “Juan, my love, Juan my love!” in her disturbed sleep. Afraid to interrupt the ‘sleeping beauty’s’ sleep, Martha looked around helplessly, trying to locate a place to lie down for the night, and ended up sleeping, curled on a stuffed, huge chair in front of the fireplace.

To be continued... 

The copyright of this novel is with Mrs. Priya Ramesh Swaminathan.