The Eagle and The Sparrow

Once Prince Azlan and his men finally retired in the thick greeneries after they sneakily joined the Cipreon’s celebration. They gathered all information they had, but in the end, it was only news that was of no use and senseless. As the night deepened and the stars were burning their brightest, a sudden heavy burden was growing inside the prince, making him aware of his wisdom and morals now hanging on a balance. “I’ll make sure I will gain the upper hand!” He muttered under his distress. “I will not let myself be fooled by some princess.”

In her room, as everyone in the palace welcomed the slumbering thoughts, Primarosa still could not fathom what ‘Jorge’ had done. Truly, her thoughts were in a daze as she cupped her cheeks, shying away from the red glow that was still on her face. But the kiss was magical—a moment like that was something quite similar to those fairytales in her books. The princess giggled and could not hide the feeling of butterflies in her stomach. His smile, whenever he listened to her, was soothing. His beautiful olive skin, the chiseled face, that dark wavy hair she promptly wished she could curl on her fingers, and those bright hazel eyes sure did settle in her mind.

But then it dawned on her…

“Dios Santo! It would be a scandal!” her mouth flat-out, reminded with the certainty that Jorge was still a perfect stranger. Was he a count? A duke as well? Or maybe a simple merchant perhaps? No matter what, the princess’ young heart could not stop beating uncannily as she thought of him the second their lips touched. “But oh, dear God on the heavens, it was a delight! Forgive me if I have been easy tonight, knowing Jorge is someone I just met, but did you see him? Did you see his face eagerly listening to me? None ever dare do that. I know for sure that everyone who only sees my mind is still a naïve lamb, but there he was, a gentleman who genuinely listened. Dear God, was he the one?” She was awed, fleeting away her thoughts and feelings already down in the hands of love. She would be bothered if one could know their little rendezvous, but none could ever blame her girlish heart when a knight readily opened his hands to a damsel.

Even into the wee hours of the plum sky, her smile was still visible cheek to cheek; the blush still never failed to fade, and her spirit soared as she slowly closed her eyes, whispering one last thought to God, “Oh dear God, please do soften papa’s heart. Let him know that I cannot marry Gervasio. I may now have someone worth being my dear one. And with that, may the Blessed Mother be my guiding light. Amen.” And with one, two, three sheep more, the fair princess finally fell to a good night’s rest.

The morning was ever bright as the sun reigned supreme in the heavens, blessing every inhabitant with his golden rays that drew life and color. The birds sweetly tweet on tree tops reminiscing about the church choirs that praise the grace of the Lord. There went the little rabbits as well, that hopped and trotted on their feet. And fully awake, the beautiful Princess Primarosa sang a love song as she ornated her hair with vibrant flowers.

“One, two, three… hmm, seemingly not enough. Four, five, six maybe? No, a seventh flower would be better—for my dear heart met him on the seventh day.” Primarosa sang.

She continued to sing when flowers finally circled her curly hair, looking like an Eden crowning her head. She sang again and again, on repeat with the same lyrics, not even noticing her two little sisters tip-toeing their way behind the ecru curtains. Little giggles like little mice interrupted her solo. Little squeaks and taps alarmed that even a busy cat could easily hear. As the princess looked behind the large curtains, she saw the sneaky little girls, Florinda and Margarita, tittering as they squealed in jest.

“Oh, what are you two little foxes doing here?” She asked, raising a brow at them.

“We heard a lovely song from that mouth of yours, hermana,” Florinda answered as she and the youngest one surrounded Primarosa by her vanity. “Was it some dashing prince that caused you to sing?”

“A prince? Is it true hermana?” Margarita added.

Primarosa giggled. “Not a dashing prince, mi amor. Well, I did meet a good friend last night.”

“I told you, Florinda, she did meet a prince!” Margarita concluded gleefully.

The eldest princess laughed at how eager her sisters were. She then carefully explained to them that there was nothing more of it—an obvious lie—but a genuine newly acquainted friend. Of course, in her assurance, she veiled her first kiss so none, not even the walls, could know her secret.

Before the noon sun shone at its peak, the princess arrived in the meadows, sitting under the lone algarroba tree. All those sneaking and hiding under a merchant's cart were worth it, passing the kingdom’s unyielding guards of the gates.

She waited as minutes passed until her eyes heavied, and no sooner did she give in to Hypnos’ power.

“Señorita?” There was a call, “señorita?” There it was again. It was quite a nuisance, as she thought, but when her eyes slowly opened, there was ‘Jorge’ looking down at her.

“Jorge!” She happily greeted while trying to prim herself and stand gracefully. “It is so good to see you; I am very sorry I…” Her eyes glared when she noticed that her friend was weirdly wearing the typical robes of a Moor. “Wait, please do not say—” Without saying any word, Prince Azlan covered her mouth and nose with a cloth laced with a potion that can make one sleep for hours of forty-eight.

Once her pretty eyes were closed, Azlan carried her and gently mounted her body to his horse, seeing that she would not fall off in his arms as they journeyed. The temptation to look at her was arduous, especially when he had a goddess-like creature as his captive.

“It was a shame that you are my enemy.” He muttered.

After a day and a half, the gallant Moors, at last, arrived back home. Immediately, as the crowned prince stepped foot again on his castle, he called for an audience with his brother and uncle after he settled Primarosa in a secluded room at the very gloomy wing of the stronghold. When he laid her gently on a small bed, he blew into her ear and said, “Sleep well, señorita.” Then he left.

Dusk came and the nightingale’s song slowly faded. Everything was a blur when fever dreams filled the frayed princess’ head.

A sparrow and an eagle were flying in the sky…

In hot pursuit with boiling blood burbling in its veins, the eagle was raging and vowing to kill the little sparrow once locked in its talons. Off to a seemingly grey sky, the two went on a chase that somehow felt like a hopeless limbo.

As the thunder clasped in great force, alas, the sparrow lost its strength and fell rapidly from the sky. It was an opportunity of winning, the eagle thought. So, he did what was needed and flew down to its fallen prey with talons all ready and sharp. Closer and closer, the distance between the two opponents had gone shorter. With another thunder rolling on the mad sky, the eagle somewhat gained favor as it trapped the piteous little bird on its hooks. Blood was spilling for sure, together with the last pleading of the sparrow echoing everywhere…

Then Princess Primarosa jolted from her slumber, having a heavy chest that went ballistic in searching for air. “Dios mio!” She shakily exclaimed, trying to catch her breath.