It was around autumn when I first recognized her angelic grace. She just came out of the school yard located inside the castle walls in which we both lived. I was a count and she was the princess. Her name was Yelena but everyone referred to her as Majesty or Highness. Of course the most common nicknames in this revolting paradise. Her hair appeared golden brown in the mid afternoon lighting, matching perfectly with her light brown and laced gown. Her skin begged me to question how it could stay as smooth as the feathers of a dove. How I longed to kiss her, how I longed to hold her close to me.
I still hid in the shadows following her every breath. She could not know that I existed, even though sometimes we dined for luncheon. I was a mere stranger at the table. How she was so blinded towards my actuality. I would try to speak to her, however, my words would falter under my breath and she simply walked on past me. What a fool I have made of myself so many times trying to impress her. But I suppose I was the only fool towards my own being, my own awkward self.
She stopped to pick up flowers before entering inside. Her long dress stretched across the delicate blades of grass plucking Asters from the small garden seeded beside the courtyard. They were pink and disgusting, however while she carried them I was not preoccupied with their look, rather noticing the fact that they appeared godly and only exfoliated her beauty. I awed. At that moment I was filled with so much strength and integrity I decided to ask her a question. It was a simple thought but I imagined that it would start good conversation.
I came from behind her blocking out her sun, she turned around almost frightened but then relaxed. What a strange movement that was princess. Did you not notice that I sensed your fear, that I sensed your reaction towards my presence? Or perhaps you can feel who I really am on the inside; do you know what has become of me and what has happened to me? Because I know everything about you and I have seen you in every way.
Yelena looked up at me with her darling porcelain eyes.
“Is something the matter, Count?”
I didn’t know how to respond. My question faded in the back of my mind and my mouth dried up so quickly I felt as though I was choking! Thus I remained silent.
The princess looked a bit confused and a bit ugly squinting with the sun smacking her in the face as if to annoy her godliness. She stood up slowly as if weighted down by the very earth that bounded her so tightly from flying into the heavens.
“Is something the matter, Count? You do not look to well” She asked again.
I opened my mouth and replied silently,
“Nothing is the matter my Princess, nothing at all.” How smooth I was hiding so secretly the fact that I called her “my” princess.
“Then would you please step aside?” She replied so gently I could cut my sinful face, “I need to get back inside before Queen starts to worry.”
My smile decreased and my head lowered. She was making up excuses not to listen to me. She wants to ignore my company. I was so blind so blind! My heart began beating fast from the strain of her twisting and bending my emotions. However, I was not the sort of man to be mangled with. I was not to be walked on like a side street, nor treated as a mutt in the road.
“I am afraid I cannot let you do that madam. I need to speak with you about something, and I need to speak with you now. My heart is mingled in your very trap of existence and I cannot take it anymore. No longer can I hold my breath under yours, it is suffocating!”
I take her hand.
“I love you Princess, oh by the gods how I love you. Ever since I saw you I cannot stop thinking of your grace. Your skin is a god sent and your voice is that of a goddess. You very words deepen my ability and inspire me to create better magic. You are the very reason for why I am here. Come follow me into the garden so that we may share tea, I can teach you things and you in vise versa. I want to know you more and I want to be with you always.”
Yelena did not seem pleased by what she was hearing, nor did her face glow with hatred. She looked puzzled. No words came from her mouth and I let go of her hand, incased in a white glove.
“I apologize, I did not mean to bluntly state it so, nor did I plane to state anything.” I looked away from her too embarrassed to face her confusion, her analysis of the situation. I wanted to flee from her but; I also wanted an answer to how she was feeling.
“I am sorry,” Her soft voice rang. “But I do not feel the same way for you. I am engaged by the system and shall marry in five months. I know who you are, your name is Kapranova. I have seen you for some time around here and I never questioned your potentiality. Only did I notice you because you were in the background. I am sorry but I do not love you, nor will I ever. My heart belongs to another singing in this realm of joy. I try to whisper on his shoulder only to hear a short response. He loves me graciously kisses me softly. You would never understand how he makes me feel. And I believe that if I told you more you might just want to kill. A murder so envious it’ll make me cry, make me weep for my life to end. But that is how I feel you’ll react if I tell you more. Just a little too late you were my Count, go play with your magic’s in your house. I shall see you again at dinner; bring not this up to my father, for he would have you killed.”
She seamlessly walked away from me without an adieu or farewell. My heart ached like that of a dragon after it had been speared by a higher greater mortal. How I wish my mouth had been sewn shut, I wish my head be filled with cotton for if it were my mind would not have thought of such idiotic babble and even if I thought it my mouth would not be able to speak.
Yelena spoke of a murderer, how undeniably sadistic. I was no murderer nor would I ever be only in my mind did I seek revenge and only in my mind did I want to know her lover. I craved this addiction of knowledge, and I left the small garden after spitting in the so called Asters that she adored. It was somewhat of a trade, she spits in my heart I spit on her flowers. How I wish my mouth was painted black and my eyes hallowed with ink. Perhaps then I could destroy her garden with the much shared intention of her father’s punishment. I had planning to attend to in my small room.
“I do not fall that easily my dear sweet Yelena.”
My name is Matoyac Kapranova; I have an eye patch that is black located on the right side of my face. I received it from dancing with my magic. Magic blades none the less, I practiced with them some time ago. I made “mistake” and ended up stabbing myself in the eye. I really need to work on control! But, how beautiful it was to see my blood spreading throughout the tile yes it was marvelous, but my favorite part would have to have been when I was forced to squeeze my eye out with my bare fingers.
I remembered I ate oranges that night, and they were the sweetest oranges my mouth had ever tasted. I like oranges but not as much as pasta. I also like Pirates, perhaps one day I shall sail away on a dream ship and find myself some treasure, what a wasteful life that would become. What a wasteful beautiful life.
I hate it when men wear flowers upon their cloak…My name is Matoyac Kapranova and I will butcher the man who has butchered my brothers.