- for you, prince.
- it was when you were picking apples outside of the castle walls, collecting them dismissively in your basket. i remember how the thin silk blanket fell in the crevice of your shoulder blades. your hands, reaching for the apples - you snapped them right out of the tree. i had always known the trick to twisting them at the stem for an easy snatch. you wasted no time, and you didn't care how far the branches would shoot into the air after being catapulted by your hands. you didn't care when the leaves would prick you on the face, the twigs twisting in your hair and weaving it into its own silk blanket.
- royalty questioned the prince's morals and objectives. our prince was not a communicator, and often sat in his room studying agriculture and how to make tea out of common herbs and spices. he began growing black tea in the castle's garden, but due to restrictions from the king, it had to be destroyed. i remember the way he stood and watched as i struck the first wound in what he had created. i tried to not look at him, for i had torn the tea into red blood stained on his carpet floor. he never said a word about his passions.
- prince, you never wore shoes in the dirt. with a crown on, the purple under your skin showed. i kept notes on how many times i watched you from the shed in the garden, silently creeping across the massive acres until you reached the treeline.
- your steps were calculated, you had done this many times. i knew this, but i always resented your father. i made an ode to myself to keep you safe from a distance. of course i watched you gather herbs and native plants to make your craft. i admired how deeply you connected yourself to the ground. you would never make a good king.
- i asked you one day if you would like to use my shed to hide your plants from your father, promising that i wouldn't tell on you. we had a few drinks, and i went into depth that night about how i had been watching you, admiring you. the look on your face immediately showed discomfort. you told me how you don't like human interaction, it made you tense. i nodded. i didn't expect much communication that night, but when your tea was done boiling and you offered me a glass i smiled. you gave me a look that i will never forget - confusion, puzzle pieces forming in your mind. then, you smiled back, and told me how much you appreciate my companionship.
- you and i bonded for a long amount of time after that. i, your father's servant, and you, the prince that had multiple responsibilities to attend to. you were a groggy fellow, and i knew how hard it was for you to take on multiple tasks at once. i knew that all you wanted to do was sit and read about plants, how to produce medicinal medicines. you wanted to be a doctor in it's purest form, abiding by nature and using the natural remedies to cure. i loved you for that.
- months on end, you and i would sit in my shack, brewing tea and growing small aloe plants. you loved to sit and tell me all about their reproduction processes, and your rants about invasive species ruining the natural life we have. you were open with me, and i knew i was the only person who held that privilege. i miss the comfortable months - your small velvet frame sneaking into my shed at night to serve yourself a cup of tea. some nights you wouldn't leave, and you'd find bed on the floor. other nights, you'd sleep next to me.
- a father never wants to hear that his son is a witch - but word caught on. guards grew suspicious of why the prince was spending so much time in the servant's shack. it didn't bring much attention until my prince would immediately leave his duties and come straight to me. gown and crown still sitting tightly on his head, purple velvet attire matched with gold and silver jewelry.
- "i hate this" you would say, glancing your eyes across the room at the dozens of jars we had collected and mixed together as you'd unearth your crown.
- one day, the prince and i decided to take a bottle. you took me to your favorite foraging spot. a creek that passed straight through the woods, shallow enough to deep your feet ankle high. we cut the bottle in half by noon. it was overcast, and the trees towered high. we waded in the water barefoot, talking about our day to day lives - the drama between his dad and i (he never thought i was a good enough worker), general events, and things that we recently found interesting. it was a beautiful day. best of all, i was with you, my prince.
- it was a bit at dusk when the bottle was gone, and i knew that i was going to have trouble walking back to the castle. my prince didn't seem to mind. in fact, i don't believe you planned to go back.
- this is what you said to me as we sat on that dank log before sunset-
- "John, they're raiding your shack right now. they know about it all. i am being put on trial tomorrow for witchcraft. i brought you out here, because.." he trailed off, shook his head, buried his face in his hands.
- "i knew it was going to happen. i overheard the guards tell my dad. they want to execute you. they believe you've tainted me with the devil's sin,"
- my prince, i would do anything for you. for i have always loved you.
- "if the devil's sin is absolute love, then i hope it stains you forever."
- i saw your face, my prince. the purple under your skin, the tangles in your hair. i felt you against me, i ate the apples you picked. i drank the tea you crafted, and i hold you dear to my heart.
- i remember the gun fire, the bolt through my skull, and your hands being the last thing i felt.
- i suppose you held my body in your arms afterwards.
feb 11 2021 ∞
feb 11 2021 +