Prince Fernando
My half-sister, Valeria, leaned on me for guidance as we strolled the gardens. At the tender age of fourteen, she’d matured faster than her peers. She had learned three languages with her tutors and studied philosophy, politics, mathematics and practiced music on the vielle.
“Do you think she will heal my eyes?” Valeria said, gazing at the lush greenery around us.
“Is that what you want?” I asked, pressing my hand over her long fingers clutched to my forearm. Valeria saw blobs of light and blurry shapes and colors, yet the physicians explained it was still a type of blindness, and she needed a lot of support.
For all her many faults, Queen Catarina loved the children she birthed, and would do anything to help them thrive. I hated her for replacing my mother, but as the Divine was my witness, I adored my little sister.
Valeria stopped and gestured over the garden. “Tell me what you see.”
“You’ve memorized every bit. Every vine on the trees, the shape and fragrance of every flower.”
She glanced at me with a smile. “I know, but hearing you say it is like experiencing it all over again.”
My heart twinged and leaned over to plant a kiss on the crown of her head. Then I complied, sharing observations only seen through my eyes.
I’d gotten about halfway through when my seven-year-old brother, Luca, made his presence known.
“Prince Luca! Please attend to your studies!” his tutor called, waving a thick volume in the air.
My young brother shed his stifling overcoat on the ground and plowed into Valeria, almost knocking her over. I steadied her while Luca hugged her tightly.
“I’m tired of all the numbers!” he exclaimed.
Valeria hugged him, resting her cheek on his messy brown hair.
He frowned at me. “Don’t make me go back.”
“Your Highness,” his tutor scolded, “this is not princely behavior!”
I shouldn’t intervene. The queen would be livid. However, since I suspected her involvement with the assassins, I didn’t exactly care.
“How long has he been attending to his learning today?” I asked.
“Hardly three hours.”
I crouched, so I was eye level with my little brother, who still clutched his big sister’s dress. “Three hours straight?”
He scowled and nodded.
I didn’t verbalize the truth. Luca would never be king with me and Lorenzo ahead of him, and the studies for future rulers were rigorous. Even brutal.
Catching the tutor’s gaze from my lower position, I grinned, hiding my distaste.
“Why don’t you let me monitor him for a half hour?”
He fumbled. “But, Your Highness, we have a strict schedule.”
“I remember.” I patted my brother’s head, knowing I’d get reamed for this. “Come, walk with me and Valeria until mathematics doesn’t seem so hard. Alright?”
Luca nodded, jumping up from Valeria’s embrace and ran at breakneck speed before us.
The instructor stood stiffly, gripping the book to his chest.
“I’m doing you a favor. I’ll wear him out and then he’ll concentrate better.”
The tutor cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. “He must learn what is proper, Your Highness.”
I put the fellow in an uncomfortable position. I eyed my brother dashing between bushes and didn’t care about the queen or protocol. The poor lad needed to move, and I was the only one who noticed his need for fresh air.
“If anyone knows what must be done, I do.”
He bowed, deferring to my authority.
I turned from him and patted Valeria’s hand. “Shall we play hide and seek with our naughty brother?”
Stella
Bolin had stepped away for a few moments during our language session. Astralini words felt odd on my tongue. My jaw ached and my head pounded. While I no longer wore the full wrappings around my forehead, the royal physician applied a small bandage to conceal the partially healed wound.
I stood and stepped to the window. Morning sun's rays warmed my face and neck, soothing a bit of my discomfort. I glanced up.
Visions danced in the sky. Multiple scenes repeated every day, while others offered glimpses of new people. Outcomes included bloody death to joyous celebrations. I hadn't mentioned them to Bolin again. The fear of my injury inducing some sort of madness kept me silent.
Amnesia made me lonely. I craved people, interaction, and affection. I longed for whoever I loved before, despite having no recollection of him. Would I ever be loved again?
This study overlooked an expansive garden, and I brought my gaze downward. The trees, flowers, vines, rocky path: all of it was lovely. In the middle, I noticed a man walking with a teen girl on his arm. Oh, that was Prince Fernando. The girl was too young to be courting him. I tilted my head, wondering who she was, and wishing I could join them. I craved bringing one of the large purple flowers to my nostrils and drinking in whatever scent they made.
A little boy rushed into them. I smiled when the prince lowered to speak with the child. He cared for them. Even from the second-floor window, the affection was obvious.
I tore my eyes away when the loss of what I didn’t remember threatened to rip my heart out. I’d been told I was at least thirty. The likelihood that I had a spouse and children waiting for me made this entire situation with the king worse.
If I had a husband, where was he? I almost died, and he didn't bother searching for me?
Bolin returned, and our studies continued.
After some time, a gentle knock interrupted our work, and he encouraged me to answer in Astralini.
“Enter,” I called.
Prince Fernando opened the door and his forest green eyes locked on mine. My stomach fluttered.
“Can we…” I forgot the word.
“Help you?” Bolin said for me.
Those green irises stayed with me for another moment before he and Bolin exchanged several Astralini sentences I couldn’t follow. Bolin said something about Patrick, then shook his head and motioned toward the door.
“Patrick?” I interrupted.
“Wait just a moment, please.” Bolin held up his hand to silence me before returning to our guest.
They conversed more, saying words I recognized: Patrick, her, no. I bit my lip, pressing my indignation deep down. He said he’d translate for me, but he didn’t. He left me out of conversations multiple times a day.
The prince frowned, then looked at me. I interlaced my fingers to hide my agitation. What did he want?
“Good afternoon,” he said, then left us alone with a loud click as the handle closed.
Bolin picked up his quill, signifying a switch from studying Astralini to taking Celestia notes. The conversation bothered him, if the small frown and wrinkled brow were any sign.
“What did he say?” I asked.
His nostrils flared. “Nothing important.”
I considered asking if he kept something from me, but I didn’t want to offend him. He was my only friend. No one else in his place understood me. I didn’t dare risk negativity in our relationship.
I had to remove this language barrier. If others communicated with me, perhaps we would find my family more quickly. Or maybe I’d make another friend.
“Teach me how to have an actual conversation in Astralini,” I said, pushing aside his notes.
“The Celestia notes are very important, too.”
“It’s bad enough that I can’t remember anything. I want to understand people without imposing on you for every word.”
He reached across the table and patted my hand. “Is this about the prince? He asked about learning an unfamiliar language for his royal duties, and I told him to ask Patrick, because I’m busy. You are my priority, Stella. It’s never an imposition.”
Relief flooded me, and I blinked.
“You will learn Astralini, but we’ll switch back and forth to give your mind time to hold on to the information, alright?”
I nodded, my trust in him restored.
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