She watched his horse go till the dust settled back on the road. Her eyes shone, but no tear drop fell on her cheeks. There was no time to cry. It was time to prove that Love was the greatest strength. Days passed by, then a week. Many a messenger came and went telling about the progress at the battlefield, but each day her eyes were fixed at the gates, for a letter. A letter addressed to her, minus the seal and title. A letter that called her by the name she had otherwise forgotten.
Every night as the stars twinkled, she sat sleepless and stared in the direction of the camp. That's where the sun set every day, almost as a metaphor of the darkness that engulfed her life after he departed.
Somewhere in a tent in the camp, he stared at the flickering lamp with a feeling of longing. A will to return to her. Embrace her and feel at home. He could have written a letter, assured her he was fine, but what if she replied? Or worse, the letter reached her late? Long after he was gone? Could he risk that? She had sighed in secret.
The life of a princess was nothing like a fairytale. It was full of uncertainty and anxiety. Helpless prayers and hopes. Boundaries she couldn't cross, emotions she couldn't show. All she could do was wait. All he could do was fight a long battle, hoping to breathe till the last of the enemies were slain.
A letter never arrived, but his blood-soaked pearl string painted her hands red instead. Touching it with trembling hands to her forehead, the princess looked up at her reflection on the thousands of mirrors on the walls of her chamber. The blood dried quickly on her hairline as she frantically tried to rub it off. Her vision blurred as she lost consciousness. In her dreams, he smiled, giving her his hand, one last time. Drawing her veil aside and whispering into her ears, "I will be waiting for you, on the other side."
© Suranya
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