The heart of chivalry

Despite the struggle conveyed through the indignance of prince Blaise, he eventually went along with me at the sight of my sister's indifference. A thorn that existed ever since their first engagement 13 years ago. The loss of a road and the birth of another. Sometimes I wonder if the discontent of princess Ingrid arose from the mourning of what could have been.

Our walk took us to the fountain. deep within the bushes of roses where the sun peaks high and unembarrassedly showered us with its overbearing expression of love. Noticing, the attack of the beams of light and the absence of a parasol, prince Blaise being the mannered man he was, pulled away his arms and covered the top of my face with his hands.

'If only this man becomes mine, how happy would I be.'

I find myself musing, though it is somewhat immoral. Is it stealing if the other party practically threw away their belonging as though it is garbage? I peer into the golden visage of prince Blaise which is chiseled by ages of corrected teachings and romantic nuances only to be filled with want.

He bows for me. A woman who has yet to obtain his love. Something the man from this morning wouldn't do. Is it vain to dream, to walk amongst the clouds and forget about the possibility of falling? Many would frown at my idealistic yearnings, but I am content to meet the ground if it meant feeling this wistfulness brings my heart to life.

Unconditional care. A love that doesn't ask for anything in return. Just that alone is enough to make me go green in envy. 'How lucky is my sister.' I try to hold back, again and again, one hand over my mind's mouth and another at my heart's but they were in synchronization.

'I want this man.'

"Do tell me, is a life of being treated as the lesser choice fulfilling to you?" I start planting the seeds of doubt in his mind, one spoonful at a time, there is no more moral question, all I know is that I want to be filled by that undiscriminating warmth.

Yet, the answer that I received was one without depression. Merely a smile brimming with compassion, like a romanticist in the advent of true love. One that seeps into his grey eyes which I thought were eternally distant. I am not quite sure if that affection is directed at the idea of love or at princess Ingrid.

"It doesn't matter if I'm treated as the last choice, so long as she comes to love me, so long as she is my first." I bit my lower lips, disgruntled at the stronghold of his enduring love. 'Why is it that those who don't try attain everything?'

Legitimate status. Free will. And now even true love. I am once more filled with determination to rob away the happiness my half-blooded sister discarded. One win for me. One win for prince Blaise. 'I will love this man as if he is my other half, so, please. Let him love me that way.'

"Then what if I say you are my first choice?" I step backward so he could see me truly, with the waning heat of the autumn rays blazing in my words. Deep down, we both knew that was a washed-down version of the truth. But a truth nonetheless. "Prince Blaise, now that you have me aching in want, now that I have come to view you in ardor, will you take responsibility?"

Regardless of my startingly passionate confession, I am shut down in such an incredulous manner, part of me begin to respect this man even more for his unwavering commitment. There is that relief that I am not even allowed to start a calamitous mistake.

"Forgive me, I have already decided, she will be my first and last. There is simply no space left." Prince Blaise utter, the same expression and indifference that he regarded me with prior to the conversation. I'm quite sure he isn't sorry at all.

I have never felt so small. So forsaken. So helpless all my life. That even if I were to undress at that very moment. I am extremely sure this emotionless block of man wouldn't bother to blink even a single time, much less avert his eyes from my face into my body.

"All this for a mistake you made as a little kid?" Arguments find their way into my mouth like a snake wanting to ensnare him fully. I want to slowly be in the middle of them. To make him see me the way all the other suitors' mother and baroness Bernice rejected have. The right love on the right person.

But he evades all of my words as though they were as nonsensical as the multiplication of 1 with 0 being 1. Instead looking into my eyes with unwavering determination. With one hand on his chest, prince Blaise speaks as if uttering a pledge. To himself, God, or me as a witness I do not know.

"Ingrid grants me a purpose of being. Even if she doesn't think of me that way. I would continue to be there for her. To chase her in the light. Guard over her in shadows. I do not care how I come to love her, for as long as she allows me to love her."

I stand there, blinking twice in a row, trying to process his words. This man is no good. He's fallen down the rabbit hole. Now there are no more things in the skies that isn't her for she has become his entire sky. The sun. The moon. The stars. Even the clouds.

Knowing I have lost entirely, in the time I have yet to come to desire this man. At the moment I have yet to view this man as the chivalrous person he has become. I could only cry in remorsefulness. Silent safe for a sentence I am not capable of holding back making its way into the open air.

"Even if it's a performance to lure her back, you wouldn't be willing to consider another?" If I had a fan, I would've swung it at this moment, in front of my deceptive mouth, or maybe hit my hands with it to make a point. But there wasn't so prince Blaise is left with the naked view of my egoistical tongue.

Still, he was kind enough to not attack it and remained in that salvaging nonchalance. One look into the tree behind me, then back into my head. I wonder if we look the same in his eyes. At least I chased after him, right? I could have the joy of knowing I tried.

Yet the sourness of knowing I lost to a person who never tried stayed so detestably in the depths of my fragility and inevitability. The conversation I dreaded so much coming to an end the way I thought I wanted it to. The way I turned out loathed it for occurring.

"Ingrid would come to me, once she realizes my love."