In The East

" I didn't say that, but until we are done reading those books.”

" There are many " the queen intervened jokingly.

The king peered at her, feigning a threatening gaze, which she returned without difficulty, pretending not to understand.

The prince approached his mother with a sudden gesture and kissed her with emphasis on her cheeks and, immediately afterwards, just as quickly, he threw himself into his father's arms.

No one could have foreseen such a move, which had no precedents in the memory of a courtier, absolutely not contemplated by any court protocol and, therefore, no one could prevent the boy from placing two kisses on the bearded cheeks of the king, who did not know what to do for a moment before masking his embarrassment with a strong laugh.

" You are a born conqueror " he joked with his son " but a little too wild to be a prince. I will have to take care of your education more.”

At that moment, he noticed the hostile glances the teacher had been throwing for quite a while and thought it fitting to correct his wording a little:

" You have a good tutor, boy, and I hope he's strict with you; but once I am at the castle, I want to be the only one to provide for your education as a future king.”

The teacher nodded in reassurance.

" Father – the child intruded – Are you forgetting that I was not born to reign? I know that I have two older brothers.”

"This issue does not concern you at the moment," the king replied dryly.

" Don't get mad, father, but becoming king is not what I care about. It is enough for me to stay with my mother and the others in this castle and be free to go to the sea or to ride up to the mountains or see the city.”

" And your father? What would you think if I took you to live with me at the court?”

The prince paled visibly and did not know what to answer in order not to offend him, but at the same time wishing to defend his freedom.

" So?”

" I'd be happy, but ...”

" When the king expresses a wish, it is not up to you to reply, but " the teacher rebuked him severely, reassured in his authority and ready to resume his job, according to his irreplaceable judgment, in the life of the boy, who still needed guidance and character molding.

The king silenced him with a gentle but firm gesture of the head.

"I'm waiting for your answer, but if you'd rather think about it, I can have it later," he said with unusual patience.

" Father, I am happy when you are here and now that you have allowed me to stay longer with you, but ... " again he broke off, turning even more pale.

" They are already two buts" the king observed, mocking him " I better not hear a third one.”

" I don't want to leave my mother to come to your court. I want to have my kingdom here" he concluded then in one breath, without looking at the sovereign.

"Anything you want " the king consented softly " but I hope that in a few years you will reconsider. And with your mother's consent, if she told you she was happy about it, would you only go to the city court for a few days?”

" If it pleases you, just because it pleases you, yes.”

" Very well. We will come back to this subject again. Now have your mother give you those books.”

The queen took the child by the hand and led him to a corner of the library and spoke to him at length, softly, before handing him two or three large volumes. The king saw the prince shake his head a couple of times as a sign of denial and then he thought he saw in his eyes traces of tears pushed back by force, but he never knew what his mother had said to his son, although he could try to imagine it ... ..

The prince still remembered those evenings spent in his father's rooms like an infinite spell. The king read to him for hours those incredible stories of ancient travelers who had explored the world, meeting mysterious people, sometimes amusing but more often disturbing, and strange fables that Antonia had never told him and that confused him a little with all those unusual characters and unknown cities with fascinating names, and adventures of famous heroes and knights…. His mother had been right to say that there were so many amazing books in the library ...

Not only, however, did father and son read and looked at astonishing figures, but they also talked for a long time and the father showed the child the treasures hidden in his rooms and taught him the game of chess and explained to him the mysteries of the stars, which they looked it from the windows together .

And during the day he would reveal the secrets of the wild animals and the birds that populated the forest and ...

The prince's memories were so many that when they began to flow into his mind, pouring out of the unconscious where they usually were buried, they were like a flood. They overwhelmed everything and he was no longer able to stop them nor the emotions that came with them and that were even stronger now than when he had felt them for the first time, because they are invariably accompanied by the regret of not having the possibility to repeat those unforgettable experiences.

When he was very young he saw his father as an all-powerful and overbearing being, who could not be disobeyed and was capable of punishing in a terrible way those who dared to contradict him; but now, he also remembered a very different father, the father he got to know in that and in many other memorable hunting seasons ...

The king then began to discover, every day and every night more and more, that his son contained within him at the same time the poetic spirit of his mother and his own restlessness, curiosity, and strong independence

Once, to say the truth, he had thought that this last characteristic was only his and alien instead to the queen, so submissive and ready to fulfill every wish of his even before it was expressed; now he realized, and precisely through the child, that she was indeed much stronger and more determined than he had ever believed.

The thing was a bit disturbing, to tell the truth, for someone like him who had been accustomed to consider himself superior and almost infallible, but also pleasant if for a moment he stopped to reflect that, if the queen's choices had always been free, so was the submission to her lord! This filled him with proud satisfaction and made him feel like a god.

One evening the prince had brought to his father a small book, covered with a simple red leather cover, very smooth and without those complicated ornaments that adorned the other volumes of the library and when he had confessed to him that he had never seen it, the boy had whispered , with a knowing air: "I had noticed it a few days ago and asked my mother what it was, because there was no title and she had blushed a little and had taken it from me a little too quickly, saying that it was nothing important and not suitable for me. But then he forgot it again on the table today and I took it secretly. Tell me, father, do you think it's an adventure book?”

The king had begun to leaf through it with growing interest and for a few minutes he had seemed absent, caught up in his thoughts, forgetting the presence of his son.

"So, father? Will you read it for me?”

"No," he said dryly.

"Why not?”

"It belongs to your mother: you have to ask her.”

"I thought the library was just yours.”

"I thought so too, but it wasn't. Your mother has taken care of the books in all these years when I left it closed and neglected and take care of it, and now it belongs more to her than to me. And this particular book is especially hers; I can't read it without your consent.”

"I see; I'll ask her tomorrow and she won't say no.”

"Don't be sure," his father warned him.

"She almost never does.”

"Well this time I'll be the one to tell her to do it.”

"Why, father? Don’t I deserve an explanation? I was perhaps wrong in taking it, but I was curious: if you had seen how she blushed when she saw me in my -hand. If I am wrong, I will apologize. She will understand and I will then be allowed to keep it.”

"I am the one who does not want you to. Maybe when you're older.”

His tone was now domineering, and it did not allow replies. The prince still did not understand and was a bit sulky; his father seemed nervous, not exactly restless, but as if he was just in a hurry to dismiss him and to be alone.

So that night he went back to sleep in his room for the first time since that beautiful understanding had formed between him and his father.

He was sad and despite Antonia tried to cheer him with her stories, she did not succeed.

He could not sleep and rolled around uneasily in his bed, rolling up his blankets and then kicking them away and sitting back in the dark, his heart beating so hard that he thought Antonia might hear him through the walls.

"Now I'll go to my father "he thought at times "and I'll tell him to keep me with him. I don't care if he does not want to read me that book, but I care to be with him, that I care about.”

Then he was afraid to make him angry, going to him so without warning and, even more, he feared crossing those long dark corridors.

He laid back down and rolled up in the blankets again ...

For better or worse, sleep caught him by surprise and, when he awoke, it was already morning and the sun was high on the horizon.

He got up in a fury and just as quickly dressed. His animals had perhaps already left, disappointed by his lack of punctuality. And his father had perhaps waited in vain for him and was as annoyed by his delay.

He looked out the window, but did not see him in the park, nor near the stables. He ran out of his room still disheveled, with his shirt out of his trousers and his shoes with loose buckles. He flew down the stairs and into the garden and into the alleyway that led to his morning appointment, but he saw no sign of the king.

He came across him only when he was a few meters from the grove and then stopped running frantically and undignifiedly.

"Good morning, son, I think you're really late. You lingered a long time in bed, eh? " his father teased him.

"Have they already left?" the child asked.

"I'm afraid so and they were really sorry that a prince was not able to keep a commitment.”

"I'm sorry, but I didn't wake up in time. It had never happened to me before.”

-I'm afraid you'll have to explain that to several people this morning.”

-What do you mean?”

"Well, apart from your four-legged friends, I'm waiting for your apology.”

"Why, Father?" he asked in amazement.

"I don't think it's the right way to present yourself to your king. You didn’t even greet me and are dressed in a decidedly unseemly way.”

The prince blushed and instinctively tried to straighten his hair and adjust his shirt.

But his fingers were rather clumsy, and, without the usual help of the nurse, they could not tackle tying the many ribbons.

The king smiled involuntarily at this hindrance and tried to help him but was politely rejected.

"I think I'm old enough, father, to do it alone.”

"Seriously? Even shoes?”

"Maybe a little help ... "granted the boy, when he realized he wasn't getting too far.

"I see you're more reasonable now. When you are decent and presentable, we will go to your mother and you will also have to justify yourself to her.”

"I didn't do anything wrong... oh, yes! The book. Is this the reason?”

"Precisely.”

"But father! I didn't think I was going to spite her.”

"But she wasn't happy last night when I told her about it.”

"Did you tell her everything?”

"Certainly, and now I want you to go and explain yourself to her.”

The prince sighed resignedly, not at all happy.

Who knows why his father had betrayed him so? He wouldn't have expected it, after so many days of friendship and complicity. Why had he brought back that book to his mother’s attention right away? And what mysterious and delicate secrets were written in that book?

"But," the boy observed, as he followed the king's rapid steps along the alley that led to the paved courtyard in front of the main façade and then up the stairs to the first floor, where the reception rooms and the rooms the queen used during the day were located "but I cannot understand: what was so important about that book to provoke all this chaos, to make me worthy of being punished by you and my mother?”

He had spoken in a whisper, almost a whisper, as if he were talking to himself, in a reasoning so complicated that needed to be expressed aloud to be better followed and grasped.

The king turned slightly to look at him and was struck by his son's almost suffering air. His excessive sensitivity irritated him a little and he decided not to answer. But then he realized the child, who was silently racking his brain, was desperately trying to recover his self-esteem and decided to wait for him and take his hand to calm him at least a little.

"You don’t fear your mother is angry at you, right? I said she wasn't happy, not that she wanted to punish you.”

“No, father, but I am so sorry to know that she ... that she is not happy with me. She always says that I am her treasure and that if she didn't have me her days would always be grey and sad. And now ... Oh, father, I'm sorry if I am making her suffer. I'd rather be placed in a dark cell.”

"That is that is best for you” the king said jokingly.

"Yes, but my mother is also best for me.”

"Seriously? And your father?”

Why did he insist on that self-centered question? Perhaps to elicit a little exaggerated and false praise from his son? Perhaps to feel reassured about his paternal role, that in reality for years and years had not worried him at all and that only now he was barely rediscovering?

"I am very happy to be with you, but you are never here, while my mother does not abandon me a second and I can tell her everything.”

"Yes, I believe it.”

"Can't you tell me why me taking that book would have made her unhappy? "the prince again ventured.

"Very well. Sit down for a moment next to me and I'll try to explain it to you. That book was different from the others, because your mother wrote her thoughts, her joys and her unhappiness, her desires, and her regrets in the book. In short, she poured her soul, entrusting it to some poetry and to many long pages of confessions. Do you understand what I mean?”

"I know what a confession is, but my mother isn't bad and doesn't need it.”

“ No, not in the sense that you think; I wanted to say that she wrote the things that buried in her soul and her heart without lies, without fear that someone (maybe me) could read them and maybe scold her. You stole her secrets.”

" But I didn't know ... " the prince stammered.

" Of course; but now I know, and your mother and I have discussed this a lot yesterday evening. I was rude to her because I should not have succumbed to the temptation to read those pages and because I could not hold back my anger .... I made her cry" the king concluded, without having the courage to look at his son, suddenly ashamed before the naivety and sincerity of the child.

" I'm sorry, father. We will try to fix it. We will take care of it.”

" I hope so. I should have come back to her early this morning or stay with her tonight and let her know I was a fool to get carried away by my exaggerated jealousy, but I didn't and now ...”

He didn't add that he really wanted the prince to pay for everyone, because it would have been too much for his pride, but he knew that was what made him feel terribly guilty at that moment.

" Father, you will bring her a rose and you will make her smile. Wait.”

The child ran back, rushing into the garden. He broke a rose sprig, one of the last of the season.

He handed it to his father.

" Give her this. She loves them so much.”

" I'd rather you took it to her. I don't know if I'll go with you.”

" Why not? You don’t want her to be sad like this.”

His son's eyes were full of great wonder that made him smile.

" Okay, okay, you won. Let's go together. Give me that flower.”

Feeling ridiculous, but unable to withdraw under the decisive gaze of the prince, the king approached his queen as an ancient knight who pays homage to the lady with his courtly love and honor, with a rose in his hand and his son at his side.

" Good morning mother “ exclaimed the latter, running towards her to kiss her.

" Good morning, my boy. Was Antonia not able to reach you this morning to get dressed? You look a little messy, " she observed, smiling tenderly at him.

" I got out of the bed like lightning. I was late for my animals. But my father helped me a little.”

The queen looked at her master in surprise and waited for him to say something to relieve her nightly sufferings. Probably, however, he would have not said anything, and she would have had to hide her disappointment at the bottom of her heart, like so many others in the past.

"Your son “ the king said instead " says these roses are your favorites" and clumsily handed her the flower.

" It's true.”

" I'm sorry for the words I spoke last night. Sometimes not even a king can keep his impulses in check.”

" Mother " the child intervened " really the fault was mine alone, because I secretly took what I was not supposed to take, as I was extremely curious.”

His mother held him close to silence him and saw that the king had a strange look as he watched them.

It had been a long time since his eyes had been glimmering in excitement, a long time since he had had words like that, kind words, yet not conventional.

" Don't apologize, my darling” she answered her son, her eyes searching for the king " nothing can make me happier than having you close to me. Now " she added " go spruce yourself up before going down to breakfast with me. Perhaps your father will join us for once.”

The king nodded.

When his son left, he approached the queen and grabbed her hand: "I'm really sorry," he repeated, "I hope you didn't feel too lonely tonight."

" I was, but no more.”

" But not forgotten, right?”

" How could I? Do you truly believe that entrusting my torments or my expectations to paper will make me forget everything?”

" No, you're right. But you know the way I am, you've always known it and ...”

" I accepted this way of life. I have your child and I should not wish for anything else. I don't know if that's what you expect from me, but in reality, that's not what I feel.”

" What else would you like?”

" It's not up to me to teach my king.”

" I know, but I can't be different. I'm already surprised at myself for how I let myself be conquered by our son. Maybe someday…”.

" Perhaps " granted the queen " I can wait.”

The king was silent for a long time, then asked: "Is there anything else I don't know?"

" Do you think you have the right to know all the secrets of my soul?”

" Yes " he replied forcefully " There must be no mysteries for the king.”

" Good: if the king wants to know them, he should try to discover them on his own.”

" Are you challenging me? Be careful.”

" You are the master of my life, but not of my mind.”

"I could force you," the king began abruptly, but then immediately, in a flash, he saw his son again with pain in his eyes at the thought of bringing his mother sorrow and stopped. His approach changed.

" No " he admitted " I'm not, even if I want to. I can understand that you want to be at least a little independent of me or others, but I must confess that I would be happier if I could know all of your thoughts.”

The queen nodded but did not speak. She knew her lord and knew difficult those words must have been for him.

The taste of a won battle is as sweet and intoxicating as the new wine, but she also knew that it was not a definitive victory, nor, perhaps, would there ever have been.

When her father had granted her in marriage to the king, she had not, of course, opposed the marriage, nor could she have done so because it had been set up by the family and because such a great honor could not be refused without attracting the resentment of the king and the court.

However, she had soon learned to love and respect him and, again, she had not rebelled when he had made her understand that his palace would also be her golden prison, since he did not tolerate the idea of not being able to control her actions and her life in the midst of the multitude of noble courtiers, who attended the court, ready for flattery and adulation, whose rules were solely those of amusements and assiduous courtship of the ladies (queen included). Thus, she would have to accept living practically as a recluse in her own apartments when he was not present. For this reason she had preferred to establish residence in that country castle where she felt freer than in the city palace, where a thousand eyes would have spied on her every minute and where the large rooms, suffocating in their gaudery, without that air and that light that flooded her "rooms" at all times, would have made her sad like a poor captive bird.

Besides, her king loved that castle a lot and when he came to visit, especially in the hunting season, he was always quite cheerful and open to generosity and courtesy. Everyone told her that at court it was never like that and she was therefore happy with her choice. Even for her son.

She did not want him to be forced to suffer the jealousy of the two older brothers, sons from the king's first marriage, whom she knew where not much loved by their father, and would not have liked the baby to grow up in a gloomy city palace when he could have this instead: the park and the forest, the animals, the flowers and the orchard; he was a lively child and always on the move and, although a little too isolated, here there was enough space for him to live without excessive constraints.

Certainly, little by little she had tried to organize her life in a different way from what the king would have demanded. Despite the bans, for example, she had begun to frequent the castle library and the very fact of being able to spend part of the day there, in peace, immersed in those wonderful worlds that would otherwise have been forbidden to her, had given her greater serenity and ability to better withstand her recluse solitude.

And then there was her son, who grew up and surrounded her with an ever deeper and warmer affection.

And her poems.

A little out of boredom and a bit out of challenge, she had begun to write those diary pages, which had grown and ended up being vitally necessary.

Her husband had reproached her for her wishes for independence (albeit very minimal) and had even threatened to take away her child if she did not respect the pacts between them.

She had then fought like a lioness defending her child even at the cost of dying, and she had faced his furious gaze head-on, as the king tried to be master of her soul too. He had mocked her for her stupid and useless pages, written only to protect her from feeling like a ship completely at the mercy of the calm and the storm. In the beginning, she answered with the same tone and the same weapons, but then had to succumb to tears, which made her understand how desperately weak and alone she was, despite her efforts to build a protective mental armor for herself.

Then the king had left, perhaps satisfied to have once more won over his opponent and convinced that he had made it very clear who of the two was in command (which in truth was obvious) and what he demanded from her.

Thus, on the night when the little prince abandoned in his bed felt immensely alone and fidgeted uneasily in the darkness that was so frightening to him, even the queen had bitterly meditated on the high price she would always have to pay for the honor of being asked to marry the king and give him a son.