The Chosen Prince (28 page)

His neck is flushed; beads of sweat have formed on his brow and cheeks. Trying not to be too obvious, he wipes the sweat away.

“The point is, I feel that I
know
you, that I've known you all my life. And there has to be a reason for that. The goddess could have shown me happy visions of Teo if all she'd wanted was to keep me together so I could finish my task. But you were in every dream; I saw you even before Teo came to the island. So I think there is a reason you and I are here, exactly as we are now. Whatever we say to each other, there is purpose in it. I'm sorry if that disturbs you.”

“Maybe we should sit,” she says, pointing to the cot, then taking a stool and settling herself upon it. There's something so natural about the way she moves, graceful yet boyish. She doesn't watch herself being watched, as the court ladies of Arcos do.

“All right,” he says. “But you will have to excuse me if this is a little indelicate.” He stands by the camp bed, raises the hem of his tunic, and releases the catch so the brace can bend at the knee. Then, supporting himself with the cane, he sits down with all the grace he can manage.

“I believe what you just told me,” Aria says, “because I have seen you as well.”

“You have?”

“Just today; not before. But the goddess made up for the delay, I assure you.” Her brows shoot up, green eyes wide. “She gave it to me all at once.”

“And that's why you are here?”

“Yes. I wasn't willing to come before. In fact—well, it doesn't matter.”

“How can I make it easier for you?”

She isn't expecting that. “I don't know.”

“Then let me try?”

She nods.

“I know how you feel. I really do. You love Teo very much. And ever since he came here, you've wondered about his past—how he came to be alone at sea in that little boat. You couldn't imagine that anyone would intentionally harm a child. The thought would be repellent to anyone, but more so for you, since you've had no personal experience with evil. Until Pyratos came, no one was ever cruel to you. Teo is an angel, your father is wise and kind, everything a father ought to be—”

“Not like yours.”

That stops him. “You're right. My father was not at all like Claudio. But my point is that for you to confront evil for the first time—and not just evil of a general sort, but a very particular, personal crime, committed against someone you love . . .” He throws wide his arms as if to express the enormity of the disconnect. “I can only imagine the horror you must have felt when you discovered that
I was that person
. And yet, when Athene told you to come here, as I assume she did, you obeyed. I believe that's more than enough to
complete her circle of absolution and satisfy the gods.”

This feels incomplete to Alexos. The conclusion is only implied. But what is he supposed to say,
you're done now; you can go
?

Aria rocks on her stool, staring off into the middle distance, her chin in her hands. “No,” she says. “Listen.”

Of course he will listen!

“When the goddess showed me your life today, I wasn't watching you as I am now, from the outside. I was in your skin.
I was you
. I saw what you saw and felt what you felt.”

“How terribly unpleasant.”

“It was, yes—and to such a degree that after a while it seemed
intentional
. Oh, I'm afraid I'll get this wrong.”

“Please try.”

“All right. The goddess chose me, and she chose Teo, too—did you know that?”

“Yes. He told me.”

“But you were different. She chose
you
especially.”

He waits.

“The whole time I was living your life, except when I was running and when I was with Teo, I was wretched. No matter how hard I tried, it was never good enough. And no one but Teo really loved me—” She looks up then, as if she's had a new thought. “Except for Suliman, and Peles, and Leander.”

He flushes and looks down. She notices.

“Can I ask you something? I don't mean to intrude—”

“That's all right. Go ahead.”

“I know Suliman loves you still. But what about the others—Peles and Leander? Have they abandoned you now that they know what you did?”

Alexos plays with the folds of his tunic, frowning. “Peles is under the impression that I saved his life, which I suppose I did, and he is firmly convinced that I have a noble heart. So he refuses to believe I could do anything vile, though he heard me admit it myself. He thinks there must be some missing piece that would explain it all. If anything, he is kinder to me now.”

“That is amazing.”

“Yes. Peles is an amazing man. Saving him may have been my greatest achievement.”

“And Leander?”

“Ah. Well, that's a different case. We have been friends since childhood. He knew Teo, or at least knew of him. He saw him once.”

“At the race.”

She
has
seen his life. “Yes, at the race. And after I was sick and Teo disappeared, Leander comforted me. Everyone did.
Poor Alexos, on top of all he has suffered, now he has lost his beloved brother
. So you can imagine how repulsive Leander finds me now. He
can't even look me in the eyes.”

“Yes, I understand him. I felt the same.”

Alexos blinks. Did she
mean
to use the past tense?

“I have released him from any obligation to attend me. But it's hard for him because we are here on this small island. He can't go back to his father's house or ride down to the borderlands. So we just avoid each other. That's the best we can do.”

“Did you love him—Leander?”

Alexos doesn't have to think. “Oh, yes.”

“And he loved you?”

“I believe he did. He was uncommonly attentive and kind. He anticipated my needs, eased my way, made me laugh. But it's hard to know with Leander. He's all sunshine and no shadow. I wonder sometimes if a person can truly love if he has no sorrow in him at all.”

“Oh, I hope that's not true,” she says. “For, like Leander, my life has been easy. Maybe that's why we reacted in the same way. He will feel differently, though, after I have spoken to him. For Peles was right, Alexos. What a clever fellow he is!”

“I'm afraid I don't follow you.”

“I'm sorry. Let me go back and tell it all in order; then it will be clear. Do you remember where we were?”

“The suffering was excessive and no one loved me.”

“Yes. Well it
was
excessive, just one thing after another.
Dear gods
, that dreadful race, and the illness, and then you were disinherited—incredible!”

“I'm sorry you had to go through it.”

“Those weren't just things that happened, you know. They were carefully arranged. Athene wanted—no, that's wrong—she
needed
you to suffer. Would you like to know why?”

His hand goes to his mouth, then to his chest.
“Yes,”
he finally says, a little too heartily.

“Teo and I were chosen, as you know, and what Athene needed from us was forgiveness. But
you
were a different sort of champion. Zeus demanded a sacrifice—and you were it, Alexos.

“So the goddess made your life a misery. She drove you beyond your limits, then robbed you of your few consolations. You were strong and fast, you found peace in running, so she damaged your legs. You had purpose in your life as heir to the throne, so she took that, too. And finally, there was Teo.”

She stares at him for a moment, her shoulders slumped, her head at an angle. “She did that to you, Alexos—also to Teo, but mostly to you. She rescued him and gave him a family, love, and forgetfulness. But she left you to suffer.”

Alexos is bent over now, his face in his hands. Aria moves the stool closer and lays her hand on his knee. The touch is light, as if she'd laid a flower there.

“Suliman told us about your life. He said you were ‘broken' and that's why you did what you did. Somehow that made sense to Teo, who is clearly a better person than I am, since he was able to forgive you and I was not. Even after Athene showed me how it felt to be you—oh, my heart was softened, I felt pity, but still I would not have come.”

Alexos sits up now. He is trying to imagine what could possibly have made her change her mind. “Then why are you here?” he says.

“Because Athene had another task for me—besides granting my forgiveness. I am the messenger, Alexos. She gave me the key. I don't know why; it should have been Teo.”

“What key?”

She takes a deep breath. “Peles' missing piece. Alexos, when I came to the scene with Teo in the skiff, and he was sitting there begging me to come fishing . . . Alexos,
I know it wasn't me
who pushed that boat away. Yes, my hand untied the knot and gave the bow a shove—but I was not controlling it.”

“I don't understand.”

“Let's say I was standing behind you and a great
wind came along and blew me over, and as I fell I brought you down with me. Yes, I made you fall; but it was really the wind that caused it. And there is no doubt in my mind:
I didn't push Teo away
.”

Alexos just stares at her, incredulous.

“To truly be the sacrifice that Zeus required, your suffering had to be brutal. Just taking Teo away from you was not enough. It had to be worse than that.
So she made you do it, and made you believe that you had killed him
.”

He cries out suddenly and it startles her. But he doesn't hide his face. He just stays as he is, looking at her, showing everything he is feeling. She gets off the stool and kneels before him, reaching up to grip his arms. Her face is inches away from his, her eyes very wide.

“And then I understood. The life Athene gave you would have broken anyone. But as hard as she tried, she failed—because you could
never
be damaged enough to harm your brother. So she
had to do it for you
. She gave you the guilt without the crime. Surely you must have wondered. Surely it must have seemed impossible to you—what happened.”

“Yes
.
”

“Athene didn't want to do it. She loves you above all mortals. But she
had
to have the sacrifice to save her
people.” She stops for a moment, quivers all over like a dog shaking off water.

“I have learned a lot today, Alexos, enough to last a lifetime. Teo said, ‘It's not as easy to be good as I thought it was,' and I didn't understand. Now I do. I believe I will spend the rest of my life trying to be like my brother, like Peles, like Suliman, generous and merciful. We must be careful how we judge one another in this life. There is always a missing piece. Oh, Alexos, I am so ashamed.”

“No.”

“Yes. Because you did not deserve my cruelty. You thought you did, and I thought you did, but we were both wrong. You have given more and asked less, have worked harder and thought more of others—”

“Please stop. You have broken the chains that have bound me since I was twelve years old. You don't have to say another word.”

“Yes I do. I haven't completed my task. Alexos, whatever needs forgiving, I forgive you.”

“And I accept your forgiveness.” She is still gripping his arms, rather firmly for such a small person, and looking up at him in a way he doesn't quite understand. He just knows that the hair is rising on his scalp and he is dizzy from forgetting to breathe.

“Now I must ask you to forgive me,” she says.

“Don't be ridiculous.”

“Please, Alexos. Forgive me, as I forgave you. Do it, and then we are done.”

“All right. I forgive whatever needs forgiving.”

She is nervous, breathing hard. “And I accept your apology. Now, to show that we are friends, and to dazzle the gods, and because I find I want to very much—would you mind if I were to kiss you?”

“No,” he says, his heart slamming against his chest, cold chills running down his neck and arms. “I wouldn't mind.” He leans down a little and she rises to meet him, gently pressing her lips to his cheek. It's the way she used to kiss Teo when he was little.

“Thank you,” he says, with an involuntary shudder. “But would you come and sit beside me? It would be somewhat more awkward for me to come down to you.”

“Oh, of course.”

“Thank you. And now, I wonder if we might try that another way. Like so.” He cradles her face in his hands and gently presses his lips to hers. He lingers there, softly. Then he pulls back a little to look at her.
Please don't be offended!
“Was that all right?”

“Oh,” she says. “It made me rather out of breath.”

“Me, too—in a very good sort of way.”

“Alexos, why is it so bright in here all of a sudden?”
The canvas is glowing and the tent is full of light.

“The fog has lifted, I expect. The sun is shining.”

“But that never happens. There is always fog.”

“I think Athene is ready to show her handiwork now; no need to keep us hidden any longer.”

“You mean the gods are watching us?”

Delicately, with the third finger of his left hand, he's tracing the contours of her face: across the forehead and around the brow; down the slope of her nose, touching her mouth and her chin.

“I think so,” he says. “I hope they like what they see.”

“Oh yes, I hope so too.”

He kisses her cheek, just to the side of her nose, then her lips again.

“Have you done this before, Alexos?”

“No.”

“Nor have I. But I must say, you're uncommonly good at it.”

“I'm relieved to hear it. How would it be if I took you in my arms?”

“I think that would be very nice.” She leans her head against his chest. He kisses her hair. He thinks any moment now he is going to burst into flames.