Bh0z cheats Inktober: Day 8
You may wonder why a good man like me is wasting away in a dungeon like this. I was once a handsome gentleman, if I say so myself, and I do not believe I am deserving of this scorn which my alleged crime has entailed.
It all began in my youth, when I heard the tale of Princess Floricia, have you? She was a lady with a voice whose song could put storms to rest, with hands as soft as a feather, lips as red as roses, and her skin. Oh her skin! It was said that her father, King Denmarco, was cursed in his youth. He told no one of it though, and once his daughter was born he locked her away in a tower!
Once I heard of this I tried to seek her out. Through the forest I wandered for many nights seeking for her. I spoke out her name, “Floricia! Oh Floricia! Come to me, delicate flower!”
I was nearly at my wit’s end, wandering under the moon’s light in a cold and dark forest when I finally saw it, the dark, menacing tower. And from the top I heard that sweet song. I felt warmth return to me and I soon joined in, accompanying her in song.
“Who are you?”, she spoke out once our duet was over.
“I am a traveling knight, moved by the injustice you have suffered, Floricia.”
There was silence, before she asked me another question:
We spoke for the whole night, but I had to leave before the king’s men would appear. This continued for many nights. We spoke of this and that, of the world outside the tower and a little of what was inside of it. I recited poetry to her, and she would sing for me. Every night I would tell her about a rope I was making, a thick, strong one. We would run away together and live happily.
The day came, and I tossed the rope. No longer would the cruel king keep our love apart! We would finally be together...
I thought. You see, there was a reason king Denmarco never told us of his curse. He would be the father to one of the fairest maidens in the kingdom, no, the world! But she would be frail. Oh so frail she was. The rumors were true, all of them. Yet her pale skin, untouched by the scornful rays of the sun, became like a wicked joke to not only me, but us. As she let go of the rope only a head’s length away from the ground she fell and shattered like a porcelain vase. I will never be able to forget the sound, like a hundred plates being shattered at once and the following hiss of a soul leaving its body.
I was not the only one who heard this though. And soon the guardians of the tower captured me. The king was furious, for I had destroyed a very precious thing to him. But am I guilty? I gave her the love that no one else in her life had given her. I brought hope, a longing for the future. I treated her not like a thing, but a person. If anyone was to blame it ought to have been fate itself that robbed her from us. But the king is a man of facts, and indeed my actions did end up with his daughter’s death. God knows how long I have been in this dungeon by now, but I have learned to accept it. Perhaps this will be penance for my failure to protect my love.
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