Eternal Spring (A Young Adult Short Story Collection)

by Eternal Spring Anthology

  "His pains?" I ask, instantly alert.

  "Surely you've noticed that Cassander is sick with love," Bunny says. "He sighs dreamily. He doesn't eat with the rest of the lads from the stables. And whenever anyone asks him if there's a girl he fancies, he stammers and stares at his feet."

  My breath seems to catch in my throat. "I didn't know."

  "He's not likely to show it before his queen," Bunny says. "But I hope the girl he loves is suitable. As the king's bastard, he must choose wisely. If he fell in love with the wrong girl..."

  "What?" I ask, breathless. "What would happen?"

  She motions over her throat with one finger. "If the girl is unsuitable, she'll lose her head and Cassander will be strangled."

  "Oh!" I clap my hand over my mouth. It's too terrible to contemplate.

  Bunny continues. "If he's in love with a shepherd's daughter, that poses no threat. But if he fell in love with a noblewoman...why people would think he intended to make a play for the throne."

  She doesn't have to tell me this. I know it. These are the kinds of things my mother always tried to teach me. My mother wanted me to see rivals. To unravel court intrigue. I never wanted to think that way. I never wanted to listen to it before and I don't want to hear it now, either. But I can't close my ears to it. Not if it has to do with Cassander.

  "Do you know the name of the girl he loves?" I ask.

  "I think you should ask him," Bunny replies. "Then you could warn him if the girl is unsuitable. You might save his life!"

  I don't have the courage to ask Cassander about the girl he loves. I don't go to the stables that day or the day after. I avoid the feasting hall too. When I see Cassander in the palace, I turn the other way and disappear. I wish my mother was here. I wish there was any woman of any experience I could turn to. Even Lysandra. If she were here now, I would humble myself before her and ask her advice.

  It takes more than a week before I am brave enough to face him.

  "Your Majesty!" Cassander says, smiling to see me. "Styx has missed you."

  "I've only been away a few days," I say, my eyes turned away so he cannot see how I love him.

  "It seemed much longer than that," he replies.

  I clear my throat. "I'm told you're unwell."

  "Just an aching heart," he says, his words filled with unspoken meaning. "Nothing fatal."

  I wince and my courage abandons me. If he loves another girl, it will destroy me. If he loves me, it will destroy us both. I must know, but the knowing will ruin our happiness. Better we never ask anything, never admit anything. I could be happy with Cassander's friendship. But what if Bunny is right and he loves an unsuitable girl?

  "Cassander, is there--is there anyone you would marry? If you could?"

  His gaze drops to his feet. He is silent for some time. Then he says, "Yes...if I could."

  "Who is she?"

  He glances up, only once. "I think you know, Arsinoë."

  Arsinoë. He should say Queen Arsinoë. He should never use my name like that, without a title. He does it because he loves me, I think. I never believed Prince Agathocles when he said he loved me.

  Cassander has not said it, and yet, I believe.

  He loves me!

  I never thought I would be loved by anyone. To be loved by Cassander... the joy brings tears to my eyes. But the tears are for other reasons, too. He cannot love me. He should not love me. This is a dishonor. It is also dangerous. Cassander was wrong when he said his aching heart was nothing fatal.

  "If the king knew, he would kill us both!" I cry.

  This time, Cassander's gaze is steady. "We all must die someday."

  It's a torment, but I must stay away. Every moment of every day, I think of Cassander. From the time I wake up till the time I go to sleep, he haunts my every thought. But I won't go to him even though being without him makes me miserable. All I wish to do is sleep, because I see Cassander in my dreams. It is only when I awaken that I remember, with a horrified start, that it would be better for us both if I never saw him again.

  I repeat the facts to myself, over and over, as if it will help me to accept them. I'm the Queen of Thrace. I'm married. Cassander is my stepson. Even if he weren't, he is a bastard. He is a stable boy. To love him is to bring dishonor upon the house of Lysimachus and to shame my father and Egypt besides.

  One evening, Bunny climbs into bed next to me, whispering, "I've a note from Cassander."

  "How puzzling," I say, in a desperate attempt to disguise my aching heart. "Why should a stable boy send a note to the queen?"

  I can't fool her. It's no good. Bunny is too close to me. She sees through me. She must feel the way I go hot all over. Then cold. Then hot again.

  Bunny says, "I'm your sister here in Thrace. I'll keep your secrets. Take the note, and I'll tell no one."

  I nod in surrender. Then, unfolding the little piece of papyrus, I see the words etched in a spidery lettering.

  Why won't you see me? I've been thinking of Plato. I care nothing for reason. I care nothing for lofty honor. My soul is made up of appetite and if I do not feed it, I'll die. I love you. Meet me somewhere. Anywhere. -- C

  This note is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever written to me.

  It's also treason.

  I want to press this paper to my lips. I want to sniff it and catch the scent of him. Instead, I throw it on the fire. Bunny gasps, trying to catch it before it lands in the flames. But she's too late and we both watch it burn.

  "Will you meet him?" she finally asks.

  "No." But I can't leave him with silence. I call for a pot of ink and a sheet of papyrus to write upon. Bunny swears she'll deliver my message as soon as it's written, but I take my time, laboring over each word.

  I am the Queen of Thrace. I am married. You are my stepson. Even if you weren't, you are a bastard. You are a stable hand. To love you would be to bring dishonor upon the house of Lysimachus and to shame my father besides. I will not do it. I will not meet you. The only favor I can bestow upon you is my silence. For your own sake, I implore you to burn this letter and never write to me again. -- Queen Arsinoë

  Writing those words, those horrible words, opens a gaping wound in me. It hurts. It pounds behind my eyes, giving me headaches that keep me in bed for days. It churns in my stomach so that I eat very little, and what I do eat, I can't keep down.

  Cassander sends another note. Then another. I burn them all.

  I'm so sick, so often, that the king believes I'm with child. In a fit of exuberance, he sends midwives to prod at my belly. They swear that I have good hips for birthing and that I'll one day have sons who will be kings. Like my mother, they think this is the greatest protection a woman can have.

  Even Prince Agathocles brings me a congratulatory basket of pomegranates. "In case I'm not here to give you a gift when you are with child..."

  "Why wouldn't you be?" I ask. "Where are you going?"

  "To war," Prince Agathocles says, stoutly. "I'm going to lead the cavalry into the mountains against the tribesmen."

  "May you win a great victory and return home safe," I say.

  I mean it, too. Since the day Prince Agathocles apologized for his behavior, he's treated me with respect as his father's chief wife. Since that day, he and his sister have been my friends. I would be sorry if he died at war.

  He tries to encourage me by saying, "I'll have Cassander with me. That boy knows the mountain passes as if he were a native tribesman himself."

  My throat tightens and my voice comes out as a distressed squeak. "Cassander is going to war with you?"

  "He must grow up sometime," Prince Agathocles replies. "He knows how to use a spear. Now he must wield it for our father."

  By the gods, Cassander could die in war and I might never see him again! I've been so foolish to stay away from him. Now I regret every moment we've been apart.

  When Prince Agathocles is gone, I nearly dash the basket of pomegranates to the floor in my haste.

 
"Where are you going?" Bunny asks.

  "To the stables."

  "No!" she cries, grabbing at my arm. "Someone might see you."

  "So what? I've visited the stables a hundred times before."

  "This time you aren't going to see your horse," Bunny argues. "You're going to see Cassander. It's better you meet him beneath the mulberry tree when everyone is asleep."

  She knows. She's carried messages for him. She carried one from me, as well. But before now, I've behaved honorably. I've done nothing shameful. That is about to change. Even though I know Cassander loves me and I love him, I must see him. I am ashamed of myself, but it will not stop me.

  "Yes," I say, a tingle of thrill in my blood. "Tell Cassander to meet me under the moon and the mulberry tree."

  A servant undresses me for bed. The moment I hear her footsteps in the distance, I slip out of my room. In bare feet, I race down the back stairs. All I can think of is Cassander. To see him again! To hear his voice. To be warmed by his shy smile. I don't even feel the ground beneath my toes. It is as if I float through the moonlit garden to the mulberry tree where I see him silhouetted in the darkness.

  "Arsinoë?" he whispers.

  The sound of it makes my heart leap with joy. "Yes! Cassander. It's me."

  "You came," he says, reaching for my hands. I let him take them. His hands are warm, his fingertips rough on my own. "Have you come to say goodbye, Arsinoë?"

  "To wish you luck," I say, hurriedly, not wishing to give him cause for worry.

  "I intend to become a great warrior," he says.

  "And then?"

  His eyes glisten. "Who knows...the world turns in strange ways."

  We're silent a moment, holding hands.

  "I'm not afraid to die in battle," Cassander says. "I am only afraid to die without ever having heard you say it."

  I blush. I burn. I know what he wants to hear. I can't deny it anymore. "I love you, Cassander."

  He smiles. It's a beautiful, dazzling smile. "Will you say it again? I think it has become my new favorite sound."

  "I love you, Cassander. I love you."

  Nothing in my life has ever been so easy to say.

  And once I've said it, we stand there, staring at one another with grins upon our faces.

  We are still standing like that, moments later, when the king's soldiers burst into the garden and arrest us.

  I'm brought before King Lysimachus. His deranged dog takes my place on the throne, barking madly. In only my dressing gown, I'm utterly shamed before the court. I'm accused of unspeakable crimes. And I cannot stop trembling for my fear--and my anger.

  All my life I've been someone's victim. Bullied by Lysandra in Egypt. And now, betrayed, most cruelly, by the girl who called herself my sister in Thrace.

  I should never have called her Bunny.

  I should have remembered that her real name was Eurydice.

  I should have seen her as a rival.

  "I carried notes for Cassander," she confesses to her father, big crocodile tears in her eyes. "But only because he swore to me they were innocent. I didn't know any better, Father. The moment I realized the queen meant to betray you, I told the guards everything I knew."

  The king turns his cold eyes to me. "How will you defend yourself, Arsinoë?"

  Lifting my chin, I say, "I've done nothing."

  "Nothing!" The king roars. "You stand before me having been caught in the night with another man."

  Not another man, I think. His son. Cassander is his son, I remember. Surely that must count for something. "We only clasped hands in farewell," I say, choosing my words carefully. If I want Cassander to live until morning, I must use my wits. "We clasped hands. Nothing more. Not tonight. Not ever."

  "You cannot trust her," Prince Agathocles says. "She's an immoral girl."

  "Careful," King Lysimachus says, snapping a finger in the prince's direction. "She's still your queen."

  "She was my queen when she professed love for me at your welcome banquet," Prince Agathocles says.

  My mouth falls open in horror.

  "And why is this the first I'm hearing of it?" King Lysimachus snarls.

  "You seemed so happy to bring home your new bride," Agathocles says. "I thought she was young and naive. I didn't want to believe she was wicked."

  In Egypt I never learned to defend myself. I hope it is not too late to learn now. "He's lying."

  "Oh, but there's more," Prince Agathocles says. "A few days later, your queen asked me to meet her beneath the mulberry tree--yes, the very same tree under which she betrayed you tonight."

  "That's not true!" I cry.

  "Ask Bunny," Agathocles says. "Ask your guards and gardeners if you don't believe me. Some of them were witness to it. Your queen professed her love for me, and when I rebuffed her, she ran from me in anger. I called after her that I wanted only to be her friend."

  The blood drains from my face as I realize how expertly I've been maneuvered and manipulated by Prince Agathocles. The king's children planned it all from the start. Bunny called herself my sister; but she's his sister.

  And they both want me dead.

  I fall to my knees before King Lysimachus, reaching for his feet to plead for his mercy. When I do, the horrible dog snarls, lunges, then sinks its teeth into my arm. I wrench away, too late. Fangs have pierced the tender skin of my wrist and I'm bleeding. The courtiers all gasp; even though I am a queen near disgrace, they're horrified by the sight of the bright red blood that trickles down my hand.

  My blood fascinates me, however. The vibrant color. The sharp scent of it. It focuses my mind to perfect clarity.

  The king holds back his dog, but smirks indulgently at the cursed creature.

  And I know what I must do.

  I must attack.

  "Your ambitions to take your father's throne don't deceive anyone," I say, pointing at Prince Agathocles with a bloody finger. "You wear expensive jewelry to remind all his lords that you outrank them. You lead the king's cavalry. You take it upon yourself to host in his banquet hall, welcoming his bride by saying she is only fit to give him comfort in his golden years. You said this to remind the lords of your father's age and to make them think you should take the throne from him."

  Another gasp comes from the crowd. My accusation seems to startle the prince, whose eyes widen. He is so startled that he cannot stop himself from self-consciously hiding his bejeweled fingers behind his back.

  "Now you drag your poor sister into it," I continue, glancing at Bunny--no, Princess Eurydice; I will never again forget her name. "You made her lie. You made her scheme. All in an effort to do away with me before I stopped you from stealing your father's throne."

  Before anyone can reply, I whip my head to face the king. My hair must be wild. My face must be pale. I cannot keep my lower lip from trembling. But I force myself to look into his hard face. "Prince Agathocles hatched a plan the moment we arrived in Thrace. He saw me and he was jealous of what you have. Ask yourself, would a loyal son wait all this time to tell you of an unfaithful wife? He waited until you sent midwives to me. He waited until the moment he was most afraid I would give you another, better, son."

  Prince Agathocles shouts an objection, but the king raises a hand to silence him. Then the king looks at me and his eyes narrow shrewdly. "Yet, you were caught tonight in the garden with Cassander."

  I'm not guilty of what they accuse me. Still, I'm not innocent. It doesn't matter. To save Cassander's life, I'll say anything. I'll pretend anything. "I was lured there," I say.

  "Do you claim that you sent no messages to Cassander?"

  "I wrote only once." This is actually the truth. "And I wrote nothing shameful. This I swear on the River Styx."

  I spend that night locked away. Under guard. My wrist hurts badly. The dog bite still seeps blood and throbs with pain. Still, that's drowned out by the sound of my racing heartbeat.

  I'm afraid for my life. I'm more afraid for Cassander.

  Why wasn't
he dragged before the king as I was? What have they done with him and where is he now? Unable to sleep, I shuffle on the tile floor, back and forth, until I'm so tired and thirsty, that I sink to my knees.

  In the morning, a servant dresses me in my finest garments. The expensive linen from Egypt. The pearls that were a gift at my wedding. The jeweled diadem for my hair. Whatever fate I meet today, I'll meet it in royal fashion.

  Led into the throne room, I see the court assembled. The king doesn't look at me. He is dressed formally, standing the way he does when he makes judgments. I'm the one to be judged. He'll pronounce me guilty or innocent.

  I'm so afraid I must push hard on the floor to keep myself standing.

  King Lysimachus holds forth a scrap of paper, and begins to read.

  I am the Queen of Thrace. I am married. You are my stepson. Even if you weren't, you are a bastard. You are a stable hand. To love you would be to bring dishonor upon the house of Lysimachus and to shame my father besides. I will not do it. I will not meet you. The only favor I can bestow upon you is my silence. For your own sake, I implore you to burn this letter and never write to me again. -- Queen Arsinoë

  It is the letter I wrote to Cassander. How horrible to hear my harsh words, spoken with the king's contempt. This letter absolves me, but condemns Cassander. He should have burned this letter. He should have burned it! I glance at Princess Eurydice wondering what trick this is. But the girl they call Bunny is dressed in a simple gown today, she looks as surprised as I am. From his spot beside his sister, Prince Agathocles gapes, then snaps his mouth shut.

  My husband the king takes a long, shuddering breath, then says, "This letter was found amongst Cassander's belongings. It's proof of Arsinoë's innocence. Proof of her virtue." I begin to wilt with relief, until the king says, "Let the stain and the sin fall upon Cassander. He's confessed to an intention to betray me by seducing my queen. Tomorrow he'll be put to death."

  Now I swoon. No! How could Cassander confess to such a thing? And why should he pay for it with his life? "B--but he is your son. Cassander is your son!"

  "My bastard," the king says, letting his eyes fall upon Prince Agathocles. "But let Cassander's death be a warning to all my sons."