In The East

And yet, that that same finch that seemed so fragile and instead was as strong as a warrior, had conquered his father like no one before and had now brought back to her a different husband, who even knew how to admit his wrong and asked her to put up with him as it was, because he, in his own way, loved her and didn't want to see her unhappy.

"I too," said the queen at last, "sometimes I would like to know your deepest thoughts."

"What do you mean?" The king inquired guardedly.

" Why for example did you ask me to marry you one day? Was it just to have another child or did something in me attract your interest? And why was your first bride not a prisoner of your jealous possession mania? There are many things that I don’t know and that in my long lonely days torment me, as their meaning escapes me. But " she added quickly, seeing the king's face was clouding over," this is not what I want to know now; don't worry, I won't ask you embarrassing questions today or ever. I just wish you would tell me what you think of the prince.”

The king felt relieved at this last sentence: the queen had suddenly made it easy for him, when only a few seconds before the road ahead had seemed so steep and full of traps to make him shudder.

Nor was it easy for him to remove the veils that hid the faces of years-old ghosts. To discover one's own hidden desires, anger, disappointment, hatred, and love is not easy for anyone, and least of all for those who, like him, had been educated never to reveal their most concealed secrets even to their most trusted friends.

Being able to explore the hidden crypts of the mind can be a deadlier weapon than the sharpest sword.

He would have liked sometimes to reveal his utmost secrets to his queen, who, he knew well and was happy about, was worthy of his utmost trust, but had always backed away and that secret diary had infuriated him so much precisely because he recognized his difficulty in not being able to confide in those who loved him despite everything.

But if she was questioning his feelings about her son ...

There was nothing sweeter and more disturbing in his heart than the thought of the child.

" What I am thinking or what I am feeling? " he asked her.

" Both.”

" He's a boy like I've never seen in my life. I am fond of him though sometimes he seems a little wild. But there will be time to educate him to become a true king.”

He stopped talking abruptly: the queen's eyes were already reproaching him for his lie. The prince was not destined for that role, they both knew it.

" And if not king “ he continued " a true noble prince. I find that he is like you in many ways and like me in other ways. A perfect mix, don't you think?”

"I don't know if the king appreciates in him what is mine or what is his," she insinuated.

"I don't know either, but I believe your first guess," he admitted.

" I must therefore think that you are not really sorry for the thoughts that live inside me.”

" Not entirely, even if sometimes I find it hard to understand them. But then our son too is like this: sometimes he is a child who has no mysteries, cheerful and naive, while sometimes he is an enigma and he baffles me. He has an adult pride and courage that frightens me, even if " he smiled tenderly at the memory " he is not afraid to confess that darkness makes him shudder. He can defend his positions even against the king, but he does not hesitate to admit his weaknesses, which makes him irresistible.”

" Do you love him?”

" Yes " the king admitted. “ And I'm sorry I didn't truly get to know him before. Luckily, I had that crazy idea of wanting to bring him alone to hunt. I don't even know how I thought of that, maybe it was a divine inspiration. Now I could not live without him, not even when he makes me angry and I would like to find the courage to punish him as he deserves; but it seems that with him I have completely softened and I cannot, no matter what I do, imagine his suffering without experiencing it myself. Think about the issue of the park: when he confessed to me that he was afraid of the cell of the tower, I pictured him alone, up there, trembling terrified by the noise of his own breath. To make a long story short, I wished to have him next to me at night to hold his hand and hold him as you do. I envy you this chance.”

" Will you take him with you then? " asked the queen, in suspense.

" Only if you agree, but I won't do it if it makes you suffer. Do not think that I am cruel, as I sometimes the words I say may make me look like that.”

" I never believed it; I ... I don't know how I would live without him, but if it was necessary for his education ...”

The king felt from her voice that she was trying to keep calm, but the tension was palpable.

" I repeat: only if your answer is yes. Maybe in a while, when he too will be old enough not to miss your embrace too much.”

The queen smiled.

" After all " he concluded, I decided to spend more time here from now on. I am realizing that it is indeed a delightful place, much better than the city, and no one will be able to prevent me from leaving my state commitments in the hands of my ministers more and enjoying my son more. And my wife, of course.”

" And your other children?

" They've already had what was due to them and the oldest is seriously training to become king. Perhaps he hopes to replace me soon " the sovereign grins " but I don't think his time has come yet. He will not be a bad king; certainly not as forceful as me.”

" What do they think of us?”

" Anything.”

" Do you mean that you never asked him if they wanted to meet his brother and maybe come and spend little time here? After all, they are only two boys.”

" No. They have their life at the court, and they must not mix with you.”

"But why?”

"It's like that because that is my decision" the king cut her short.

The queen did not give up: " Perhaps they would like to come here to hunt with you.”

" No. It is out of the question, do not insist " and this time even the queen had to admit that his decision was final.

She did not know the past life of the king in great detail, although, like everyone else, she knew that the first marriage had been a source of bitterness for him and his wife; married for political reasons, they had never been able to love each other. It was rumored that the queen had betrayed him for a long time with young nobles of the court, but then he too had had more than one mistress who had gladly consoled him with her graces. It was not unusual, and no one too surprised; the king did not have an easy disposition and the queen, well-informed sources always said, knew how to stand up to him, indeed, at times, she was sometimes even more stubborn and overbearing than him, and was ambitiously malicious.

When she died, everyone had thought that the king would no longer risk marrying again, all the more so because the descendants were already assured, and he would still enjoy a few beautiful complacent ladies without too many burdens and unknowns.

Instead…

The queen well remembered those terrible and anxious days in which she had been asked to reflect on the proposal that came from the court and how her father, in truth, had not given her many alternatives in this regard.

" It is either the king " had said " or the convent. Nobody will marry you anymore if you refuse the king, because he will take revenge on us, discrediting me and my family and because no noble of the kingdom would dare to aspire in the future to a woman the king had chosen for himself.”

But she was not at all sorry to give her consent, because she had gotten to know him and thought his soul had the potential of being noble and generous, beyond appearances.

For nine years now she had shared her life with him, but she had never had the audacity to ask him anything more about the previous queen and why he absolutely did not want his two older sons to know her and visit her at her castle.

She had just caught a glimpse of them on their wedding day; obviously, they had been invited but kept to the side; they had seemed closed and hostile. Perhaps, only sad, and jealous like all the children who had witnessed frigid family relationships and who were forced to endure a stepmother.

They were still small, four to five years old, but with their mind made up and not at all willing to smile and welcome her like a new mother.

Moreover, the king had given neither them nor her the chance to try to build a more caring bond because the queen had been almost immediately isolated in her splendid prison and the two children had continued to live at the court with their tutors and military instructors, between servants and rulers who did not make them want for anything. But they were missing the affection of a father, physically always very present, but distant as far as everything else was concerned, and a mother to soften their grim existence.

" Too bad " the queen murmured " I would have liked to welcome them almost like my own children.”

"They are not," the king" replied acidly. “I myself have never been able to really love them.”

" And yet you've always had them close, much more than our son and you say you love him.”

" He is different ... You are different.”

" Or maybe you're not the same when you're here and when you're at court; or perhaps release on them the old grudges of which they are only the victims.”

" What do you know about it?”

" Nothing, it's true, but you can't be unaware of what everyone was saying about the king and his queen.”

The king instinctively raised his hand to strike her, but immediately, repenting, he held it back.

"Excuse me," he whispered, "you're right, everyone knew and talked, more or less haphazardly. Do you want me to tell you once and for all the reason I hated the queen and now I can't love my children? Is that what you need in order to leave me alone?”

The king's voice sounded a little forced and not at all different than usual, as if he were begging her to free him from a nightmare and, at the same time, asking her not to let him go back to his old ways of suffering.

He was uncertain, poised between two opposed temptations.

" No, I don't want to know if this causes you pain. But if you want me to tell you how I feel about it, if I'm allowed ...”

" You know you are the only one who can do it.”

" ... I believe that whatever happened, your children have nothing to do with it. They were entitled to your fatherly love and still are. And although many years have passed, perhaps it is still not too late to bring them closer to you. If you don't want me to get to know them or for them to frequent our son, do as you wish. It doesn't seem right though. As far as the rest it is your duty to fix it.”

" Is this what you think?”

" Yes.”

" Even if you had to lose something?”

" What on earth could I lose? The rights that I don't have and will never have? I don't care about that.”

" All right. And our son?”

" He would never be king anyway.”

" I could make him king, by my decree.”

" I would stop you. It would be unfair and brutal towards them and would only hurt him.”

The king frowned, deep in thoughts. He took a few steps away from the queen and went to look out at one of the windows that overlooked a small internal garden, which everyone called the queen's kingdom, because she did not let anyone else take care of it.

He observed in silence for a few minutes the lively plants of roses, asters and hydrangeas that adorned the flowerbeds around the pool, where mysterious water lilies bloomed, small hedges full of curious red berries grew as well as the bench where he imagined seeing his wife laughing and chatting tenderly with the prince, who was near her and drank eagerly every word from her lips.

"Come here, next to me," he said slowly, almost in a whisper.

When she was beside him, he squeezed her hand and, still without looking at her, continued: "Betrayal is nothing; cynicism without shame is what can completely destroy you.”

"I am afraid I don’t understand," the queen murmured.

" I knew my wife was cheating on me and I knew with whom and how and when. A king " he smiled bitterly " always has many zealous informants. But then neither of us expected love from marriage. I was free, she was free, this was in the terms of our marriage contract. When she learned she was close to death, she made me swear that I would respect the rights of her children, despite the hatred that had divided us, and I, stupidly, had no difficulty doing so: the two children were also mine and I loved them. I had not always been a perfect father, nor a bad parent. Only when she was sure she had achieved what she wanted, she revealed to me that neither was mine, that she had made me believe it by pretending from the beginning, taking advantage of me at will and laughing at me with her young suitors. I never knew who the father was.”

" And the kids loved you?”

" I think so. Now I don't care anymore. I can't even stand their sight. I don't want you and the prince to mix with them. I can’t stand watching people I love mixing with those who only remind me of hatred and malice.”

" Please forgive me if I insist: you should try to see them with different eyes. None of this is their fault.”

The king looked at her tenderly: "You too never give up, do you? I promise you I'll think about it.”

Then he pulled her to him and kissed her.

The prince saw them, while he was at the door of the hall, and felt a slight hint of jealousy, perhaps the first of his young life, but he chased it away immediately, decisively. He came back and announced his arrival noisily. The parents, unaware, greeted him with a smile, welcoming him in their arms.

Later his father asked him to accompany him to check an old fortification guard. Located at quite a few kilometers distance from the castle in a north-eastern direction, it had been built close to a massive stone bridge and, from very ancient times, with its severe bulk, it reminded those who passed by there that its authority was impervious to any pleas.

In reality, it was no longer serving any practical functions and had remained little more than a symbol, but the king was strongly and ambiguously tied to it, since it was there that his father had once locked him up after he had rebelled , and there he had also learned to know, in solitude, the value of a true friendship, when an old childhood companion of his had left his noble home for him and challenged the king's vengeance to remain with him.

Even now, every time he returned, the sovereign felt a mixture of repulsion and love for that place, which had seen him quiver with anger, fear, resentment as well as physical and moral impatience with the petty rules of the court and that, at the same time, had accompanied each passing day with the sounds of the sweet surrounding countryside and had finally seen a warm and splendid relationship develop between two young people.

The king wanted his son to know what he had felt, imprisoned in that bare and uncomfortable fortress to look at the life that happened undisturbed out there, in the waters of the river, in the woods and the fields; about his long conversations with his favorite friend and their ardent dreams about the future. Unfortunately, those dreams had never really come true because life had soon defeated them both, one with death, and the other with a scorching betrayal.

Certainly, the king realized that the child was perhaps too small to be able to understand what he felt, and he knew he was likely not able to find the right words to explain himself clearly.

How can a man express his soul in words, his desires and his follies, his instincts of life and death and emotions that are stirred without a reason in the heart, maybe only at the sight of flowering grass swaying in the warm summer wind or a swarm of fireflies wandering in the night, or the scent of freshly harvested hay, symbolizing work, hard work and hopes?

The king ignored it, but he wanted at all costs for the prince to understand that.

They arrived on horseback, along the narrow road that came from the woods and opened up from behind the tower, not the main road that crossed the bridge and touched the base of the building, passing it on the right, before continuing towards the mountain and the pass that led to the state borders. That was the way the king himself had followed then, in his restless youth, escorted by his father's guards, in order not to have to cross the village, a little further down the bridge, lying halfway up the hill like a small flock of sheep, protected on one side by the fortress and on the other by the city, perhaps farther away, but even more oppressive than the shadow of the tower itself.

This is the only thing his father had granted him in his fury: to be able to avoid the derision of the people, who knew of his rebellions and certainly had to have at least partly shared them and that now would put him in the pillory for his miserable failure, as always happens when a strong man falls and the weak take advantage of it by taking a petty revenge.

The king dismounted and held out a hand to his son, who jumped down with the agility of a squirrel; they moved forward holding the horses by the reins and the king ordered their companions to wait for them outside the tower, near the bridge.

They tied the animals to the iron rings set in the ancient walls and began to climb up the old stone stairs that led to the sentinel quarters in the look-out tower.

The father never left the boy’s hand, although he wanted to run ahead.

The air smelled of dripping wood and stagnant smoke, though no one had been guarding the structure for many years. In the darkness, a bat brushed their heads in fear and the prince shook briefly, but immediately held his fear at bay. The king smiled in the dark and squeezed his small hand, sweating profusely with emotions and tension, which seemed to go from one to the other.

The king felt his heart beat decrease with every step and his breath becoming more and more frantic, certainly not due to physical fatigue; only with great effort could he control the urge to run up those steep stairs and go to open the first-floor window to breathe the clean air of the countryside. Had he been alone he would have done it and then he would have felt better immediately, free from the phobia that made him hate enclosed places and that even in his dreams often made him go crazy and scream. But he couldn't risk having the child trip on those loose stones only to fall downstairs. So, he tried to be calm and to talk to the prince, reassuring him that they were almost there and that they would see the light again and breathe again ...

In truth the boy was not afraid, trusting his father would protect him, and his emotion was not merely greed of discovery and expectations, but he felt that the great king was nervous and anxious, and he wanted to arrive quickly on top of the tower.

He spoke to him, yet not to him.

As if the words said were to be heard by an invisible being that only the king saw and heard.

Finally, they came to the first floor of the tower and the king opened the window: a flood of light hit them, and they narrowed their eyes for a moment.

The first to reopen them was the young prince who, despite being busy more than anything else to look around with his usual curiosity, did not miss the fact that his father had an odd look that he had never seen on anyone.

Not the teacher when he was angry and scolded him almost turning his face purple, nor the advisers when they listened to the king's orders submissively and unhappy, or to the servants when they were tired or came to implore help from the queen crying from the daily worries and troubles. His father had a similar appearance: his face was almost twisted in a grimace of pain and slightly beaded with sweat, his eyes closed, and his mouth half open as if short of breath, his head rather tilted forward.

The prince's gaze ran to his hands and he noticed that one of them was open and rested on the panting chest of the king and the other, clenched in a fist, had not yet left the bolt of the shutters, as if glued to it.

" Father " the child asked in a faint voice " are you fine?”

The king did not answer, and the prince was frightened to see that his face was getting paler and that two tears were now flowing silently, sliding down his cheeks until they were lost in the thick of his beard.

" Father, please, don't you feel well? Should I call someone?”

He was about to turn around and go down, despite the fear of retracing the dark stairs by himself.

" No " the king finally answered " just a moment.”

He opened his eyes again, breathed deeply two, three times, the painful grimace disappeared from his face, the hand that clawed the window handle relaxed and he turned to his son, still dominated by the fear that his father might be ill.

"I'm fine," he said. "You don't need to be dismayed."

" Excuse me, but I thought something similar to what happened to the old gardener last year was happening to you.”

" Hey, take it easy! I'm not yet at that point" grumbled the king" And then what do you know about these things?”

" I was with him when he felt sick and his face turned grey with pain, and he squeezed my hand so hard it made my fingers bleed. Forgive me, father, but you looked sick a little while ago.”

" It's true I was sick, but not in the sense that you think.”

" And how then?”

" I was thinking of an old friend of mine who died a long time ago. Do you know what dead means?”

"Yes," the prince nodded.

" For a long time, we lived in this old tower and shared food, hopes and dreams. We talked and sometimes fought and some other quarrel. We once fought and didn't look at each other for two or three days. He then withdrew up there " he pointed to the floor above their heads which was accessed by a trapdoor " and it was I who finally called him. At the same time, he had decided to reopen the trap door and come down. We laughed, I remember, and we were no longer able to stop ...”

" Why did you fight, father?”

" He insisted that I should ask the king for a pardon and I accused him of being a traitor.”

" Why did you have to ask for a pardon? Isn't that what those sentenced to death do? And you are the king.”

" Not then; my father was the king and I was the condemned person, not to death, but to remain shut in here for many months and then perhaps in exile. That was because I had stated the sovereign was not just and surrounded himself with incapable citizens, cruel to the people, only to feel flattered.”

" Was it true?”

" Sure, do you doubt my words?”

" No, but ... It is serious to say such things to a king, it could cause your head to come off.”

"Yes, but I did, and at first some of the king's advisors encouraged me, then they all left me except my friend, who wanted to follow me here.”

" And then?”

" My mother interceded for us and we left safely, with our head still in place. There was no exile in a foreign country, but only in the castle where you now live with your mother.”

"In the tower cell?" The child asked, startled.

" No " the king laughed, amused, despite everything, by the terrified face" No; we were in the castle and could not return to the city, but we were free to go hunting and receive some visits. It wasn't bad after all. The tower was worse. Then my father forgave us, and we were let back into the court.”

" Father, can I ask you something I shouldn't?”

" Have you thought about it? If it is a question that you know is forbidden, you could be punished.”

" I know, but I need to do it.”

" If this is the case ... a man's duty is more important than anything else and we must also face the risk of being punished.”