The Serenade: The Prince and the Siren

by Hollingsworth, Suzette

  “Viva el Rey! Viva la Reina!” Clearly the explosion had not driven the crowd from showing their enthusiasm for the royal couple.

  The cheering was much louder, deafening in fact.

  “Why are they shouting?” she asked.

  “Rumors were spread throughout the crowd of the bomb,” he said. “They assume, quite naturally, that we are dead.”

  “Oh…And when they see us alive in the new carriage…”

  “…they are going wild with relief, screaming and shouting,” he said, understanding dawning on them both simultaneously.

  It is not over. Alejandro knew instinctively there was still danger. While he kept his eyes glued to the crowd, he kept the reason for his vigilance from Nicolette, trying to make it appear he was pleased with the crowd’s enthusiasm.

  He was anything but.

  It is impossible to spot a fugitive. Movement was everywhere. Tiaras and mantillas were being waved wildly. People were balanced precariously on window sills just to catch a glimpse of them.

  I must get my queen to safety.

  Nicolette lifted her head from his shoulder and began waving to the crowd.

  “Please, Nicolette, keep your head from view.”

  “No, I shall cheer on the people. Many have died. If I was spared, it was for a reason. I can at least be brave for them.”

  As he watched Nicolette, he was amazed at her courage and initiative. Though their marriage was not yet consummated, he knew her intimately. He knew precisely of that which she was made.

  And he knew he had chosen well.

  He had long known he had chosen well for himself, but for the first time he knew he had chosen well for Spain.

  If indeed he had selected her. Alejandro shook his head as he considered the bizarre unfolding of events.

  Possibly she was destined for España long before he himself was chosen.

  If there had been any doubt, today Nicolette had shown not only him but an entire country that she was their Queen.

  Requiring every bit of discipline he possessed, Alejandro waved and smiled.

  In an instant his head jolted to the right, his soul irrevocably tied to one whose presence he felt without seeing. Some one hundred feet away he saw Esteban, limping, barely standing.

  Positioned forty-five degrees from Esteban, two other men rushed towards the carriage, as if they had just spotted the royal couple.

  Alive.

  It was obvious: they were determined to finish the job the bomb was unable to accomplish. Their hatred and their intent was written all over their expressions and movement as they ran towards the carriage, pushing through the crowd and knocking over people as they ran.

  These were not onlookers. These were not well-wishers. It was as if they were on a mission. A mission of death and destruction.

  Anarchists. There were three of them together on this.

  At least three. The bomb-thrower had fled in the opposite direction they now travelled.

  Still alive.

  It is my wedding day. Naturally Alejandro didn’t have a weapon on him.

  One of the two men suddenly lifted his arms, holding a round object over his head.

  “Stay behind me Nicolette!” he commanded, moving to place his body between her and the anarchists rushing towards the carriage. I will die and España will perish before I let any harm come to her.

  I might be able to win a fight, but if they have any kind of a weapon, particularly a second bomb, it is over. I am seated in a carriage, a moving target. Esteban is possibly dying himself.

  Alejandro covered Nicolette’s body with his own, though it would do little good if they threw a bomb inside the carriage. He tapped on the window between himself and the driver. There were two men seated in the front. One opened the window.

  “Get out your gun and shoot those two men running towards us!” he commanded even as his hands searched for a weapon underneath the seat. Try not to kill them, I want to question them, he wished to say, but there was no time.

  I must save Nicolette.

  “Bang! Bang!” The two anarchists dropped to the ground, not eight feet in front of them. Alejandro’s eyes returned to Esteban, holding his smoking Mauser broomhandle.

  Esteban collapsed, falling to the ground.

  63

  Hope

  “More than ever

  Believe me

  I need your true devotion

  So do not close your heart

  To all hope.”

  - La traviata by Giuseppe Verdi

  “Instead of rose petals at my wedding processional, I saw arms and legs strewn about. And the children suffering…” Nicolette sobbed.

  “It is over now, my love.” Alejandro held her for hours as she cried. His heart was breaking that this should be her wedding night. Nicolette was his angel and she deserved every wonderful thing.

  And I cannot give it to her. It was because of him she was being tortured from the inside out. Just as this had been his life before he met her, now it was her life as well.

  It was too selfish to bring her into his world. Though he had never imagined anything with this level of depravity.

  I would give my soul to be a simple country doctor at this moment. Alejandro had wished not to be the heir to the throne more times than he could count, but never so much as now. This time his longing was not for himself, but for Nicolette.

  “No, it's not over!” she exclaimed. “It is over for us, but what about the families who lost loved ones?”

  The memory of her wedding day would forever be a perfect nightmare to her.

  The memory of her marriage to him.

  “They have caught the man,” Alejandro whispered against her cheek. “He was a deranged madman.”

  “I suppose that goes without saying.” Nicolette's delicate lips formed a cold frown. She pulled away, standing, as if she had come to a painful decision.

  “I mean to say, dearest, that the attack does not appear to have endorsement or support from anyone. Not only has no political organization claimed responsibility, but all of the political factions without exception have criticized and condemned the assassination attempt, even the most radical groups who strongly oppose the monarchy. Most notably the UGT.”

  “The…UG…what?”

  “The General Union of Workers, a Socialist organization.” Alejandro cleared his throat, embarrassed he had been speaking to his wife as if she were one of his aides.

  My wife. He loved the sound of the words, even as they now tortured him.

  “There were three of them. Three. How can there be three people alive who would wish such a thing on anyone? What did they hope to gain from this?”

  “There is no support for this action in Spain.” Alejandro shook his head. “Or anywhere in the world.”

  “Who was the killer?” Nicolette demanded. She nodded distractedly, her eyes not meeting his.

  “An anarchist,” replied Alejandro. “He did not appear to have any associations with any group.”

  “No, Alejandro,” she exclaimed with feeling, her voice escalating as she clenched her fists. She began pacing the room before turning towards him, fury in her eyes. “Give me a name. I want the name of the monster who would kill children and maim innocent people.” Nicolette's face grew redder. “I want to put a name to the coward who found it so easy to not put a name to his victims.”

  “Mateo Morral,” replied Alejandro, his heart pounding as he stared at her furious display, so different from the calm she had exhibited earlier.

  “And has he been caught?” Nicolette appeared to have every intention of marching down to the jail cell herself that very night and telling Morral what she thought of him, and woe to the person who tried to stop her. Despite his despair, Alejandro felt a surge of pride when he reflected on Nicolette's behavior that day.

  “He is dead,” Alejandro pronounced without emotion. “He appeared to be surrendering peacefully. However, he managed to shoot and kill the guard who was taking him
to Torrejónde Ardoz prison, and to commit suicide in the next moment.”

  “He was compelled to destroy yet one more life before being cast into hell. How could he?” she wailed. “How could he after what he did today? How could anyone?”

  “It is a violent world we live in.” Alejandro shook his head. “I have no idea what would drive men to inflict agony on those they do not know.”

  “We spoke of this, that there is much unrest in Spain,” Nicolette murmured, “But I never thought…”

  “You never thought violence would be directed at you.” He stared at her, his heart breaking. It should never have been allowed to get to this point. “Neither did I, or I would never have allowed you to marry me.”

  “No, Alejandro.” She nodded, shuddering noticeably. Just as quickly, she shook her head defiantly. “I never did imagine such atrocities could be directed at me. I thought the attack in my parent’s house was an isolated incident.”

  “Do you know that my grandparents could have been killed in that explosion? My mother? My younger brother?”

  Alejandro nodded. Quietly he added, “Esteban is injured.”

  “Oh, I should have thought!” Nicolette gasped, her eyes finally meeting his. He had longed for that connection these many hours, and it was like drink in the desert. Her pink, swollen lips parted slowly. “How is he, Alejandro?”

  “He is well,” Alejandro replied, releasing his breath slowly. “He will recover in time.”

  “We must go to him now.”

  “He is being cared for. You need to rest.”

  “Never. Never again will I rest.”

  “I came so close to losing you today, Nicolette.” Alejandro stood, moving slowly towards her. Possibly she was ready to leave him, he no longer had any conviction about her heart.

  But he knew his own heart. He took her in his arms, his lips lost in her hair. “I don't think I could have born it.”

  He stared into her eyes the color of the Mediterranean Sea. Every fiber in his body longed to make love to her. His heart was hers: he wanted her more than anything in the world.

  He felt a tear roll down his cheek but he mustn't let her see it: she was no longer his, he could feel it.

  “I don't understand…Why are we not dead, Alejandro?” A sob caught in her throat.

  “It is a miracle.” He shook his head. “Clearly God still has a plan for us.”

  “No! I will never believe it!” She pulled herself away. “I will never believe that any of that carnage was God’s will. It was the work of a deranged and evil madman!”

  “There is no logical explanation, mi vida, for why you lived when the bomb landed next to you…” Alejandro choked on his words.

  You should not be alive.

  Nor should I.

  “…next to where I was sitting.” She completed his sentence in a whisper, even as she pulled away from his embrace. “And so many others died. Did you see, Alejandro? Nothing was left of the carriage but the seat frame. And us.”

  “And the medallion which saved my life. God’s hand was in it, there is no other explanation. Not in the act itself, but in saving us.”

  “If He saved us, why could he not save the children?” she demanded.

  “I shall have the marriage annulled,” Alejandro blurted out.

  64

  Annulment

  “Strengthen them with Patience

  In Danger

  Let them see the fruits

  Of the test”

  - THE MAGIC FLUTE by Amadeus Wolfgang Mozart

  Alejandro didn't know how he found the words, and yet he heard himself speak them. In that instant, he wished he had no tongue.

  She was his heaven, his life, and he knew it would break his heart to live without her.

  But it is better to know she lives in the world.

  “I cannot allow you to be in danger, Nicolette.”

  I never expected happiness, anyway. Not truly. It was a delusion, a wish, nothing more. Alejandro knew this was a core truth of his being.

  Standing before him, Nicolette did not move towards him. She had not replied; she was in accord with the annulment.

  In the morning, she would be gone forever.

  “This is not the life you envisioned, Nicolette. It would give me no pleasure to know you are miserable with me.”

  She nodded as if reflecting seriously upon his words. Her stance was one of agreement.

  “I do not understand it, Alejandro.” Nicolette looked into his eyes which he felt as a heavenly caress. She bit her lips as tears welled up in her eyes. “When life is waiting to be lived, to be embraced. If someone is not happy, why do they desire to hurt someone else rather than seeking joy for themselves? There is so much joy to be had in life…in the smile of a child…” She shook her head. “And if one cannot be happy, why would one wish to make others unhappy?”

  “Some need to ensure that everyone else is as wretched as they are.” As tormented as I am now.

  “And this monster Morral succeeded, Alejandro.” She gasped for breath. “He met with success.”

  She looked into his eyes, fury and resolve blended into determination. “I will not enter into the world of such a low, despicable creature. I won't let him change me, Alejandro. I will not give him the satisfaction. Not while I am married to the most amazing man I have ever known. Not while I still live. Not while I have another moment of joy to embrace.”

  Alejandro took her into his arms and held her close to his chest.

  * * *

  “I never intended unhappiness for you, Nicolette. I will have the marriage annulled in the morning. You can still create a life for yourself.”

  “Alejandro, do not speak such foolishness. We will live and die together.”

  Nicolette moved to the stone fireplace encircled by a small seating area. Over the fireplace was a large gilded mirror of gold. Her reflection presented an astonishing sight: her eyes were swollen and red and her lips were puffy, not the appearance she had wished to present on her wedding night. “It is not the wedding day I expected, that is true.”

  “Nor I. Never. I cannot risk your safety, Nicolette. I could not bear a world without you in it,” Alejandro stated gravely. “I am stunned by these events, I who should have known. I feel like a fool. I have failed you and failed my country. Espána is more troubled than I imagined.”

  “That is why you are needed,” she replied curtly. “If there were no need, God would not have destined you to be king of Spain.”

  “So now you speak of God?”

  “This is the time to do so, when it seems that all goodness is lost in the world.”

  “I will not hold you to your promise, Nicolette.”

  She returned to him, taking his hand. “But I will hold you to yours, your highness.”

  Nicolette sighed, picturing her glorious wedding dress, by now burned. Her eyes rose to meet his as she whispered, “The setting might be not be made in heaven, but you are.”

  “Mi cielita,” Alejandro whispered hoarsely. Without any hesitation he took her in his arms and pressed her body very close to his, as if he wanted to hold her forever, as if he had thought she might actually leave. He claimed her mouth with desperation, and she responded in kind. Nothing more was needed from her.

  “As in opera, the story leaves much to be desired, but the singers do not,” she giggled between kisses. She laughed for the first time since the explosion.

  He trailed kisses along her neck, as if in desperation.

  But Nicolette could sense that he was not actually aroused, his movements almost mechanical, as if he were in a daze, as if he were, yet again, performing his duty.

  She knew his love ran deep, but he was saddened and dismayed. He was deeply distraught and weary.

  And it is his wedding night.

  And mine. Not while I still have breath will I allow that madman to intrude upon my wedding night.

  “I have an idea,” she whispered.

  “I do as well.”
/>
  “You sit over there, your highness,” she commanded, pointing to the seating area beside the fireplace.

  The king became her royal subject and did as he was commanded. Nicolette moved past the marble balcony where the stars had only begun to dot the sky. She poured him a glass of brandy, placing before him a tray of strawberries, grapes, olives, cheeses, and cold salamis and finger sandwiches which had been delivered to the room earlier. The champagne on ice was untouched. She lit the candles, and stoked the marble fireplace. She moved to stand on an intricately embroidered peach and navy floral rug.

  Alejandro took a sip of brandy as he watched her, curiosity encroaching upon his weariness.

  “This is my wedding present to you, my love.”

  Clearly intrigued despite his grief, he watched her intently.

  “Did you plan to sing this song tonight, Nicolette?” he asked, confusion written all over his face.

  “Of course, it is my wedding gift to you, Alejandro,” she replied indignantly. In truth, she had not; it was an idea which had only just come to her.

  Nicolette was thoroughly exhausted herself, barely able to move, much less sing. But Alejandro was wretchedly dismal, determined to annul their marriage to protect her.

  I must show him how much I want him. I must make him forget, if only for a short time, the horrible events of the day.

  Her eyes searched the room for her portmanteau, which contained her actual wedding gift to Alejandro, a beautiful walking stick with a sword hidden inside the handle. At the time a weapon had seemed an odd sort of wedding gift.

  As usual, her instincts rang true…

  Ah, there it is.

  Next to the huge walnut canopy bed, rose petals scattered from the door to the bed, veiled in lace. She spotted the portmanteau and breathed a sigh of relief. She would find what she needed in there.

  Nicolette swept past Alejandro, his expression hollow and empty, as if he had finally been separated from everything in the world which mattered to him.