Unloving His Majesty

A terrible mistake

Princess Zania stood in front of the massive window on the third floor of the Jolly island castle. A place meant to be her home, but worse than a prison to her. She stared into nothingness. Her pale skin told a story of someone who lost too much blood. Her fifth miscarriage. Her dull, defeated eyes were devoid of any emotions. The hopelessness and complete darkness had completely replaced the once jovial full-of-life princess of the Jolly island. She had become a shell of the once most talked about princess.

Her hand instinctively rested on her tummy. Many things got less painful with time, or perhaps with experience. She learned the hard way that there were exceptions to that. Her best friend and over fifty of her most loyal subordinates executed because of her, and losing a piece of herself five times, fell in that category. It was as if a sharp object was plunged right into her heart.

She was still lost in her thoughts when a gentle knock and a maid coming into her view snapped her out of it.

“Your Highness, the king has arrived.”

She nodded without looking, her pain multiplying. She imagined that somewhere in the world a woman had a miscarriage and her husband was holding her lovingly in his arms, comforting her. That their painful loss would be shared, but that blessed woman was not her. Her husband, the king of the island, did not care for her. He only cared for Mary, his beloved mistress.

She let out a sigh before fixing her gown and heading out. The physician recommended strict bed rest until she regained her strength, but not welcoming her husband and his mistress would get innocent people killed. She had lost too many and too much already. Her heart could not take anymore. She was once a perfect wife with a hope that maybe he will one day treat her with respect and dignity she deserves. She acted like it now because she feared for everyone else around her.

Down the Victorian spiral stairs, her fragile hands held to the rails to steady herself and wobble feet. Her heart broke when her exhausted, grief-stricken eyes landed on him. Tall, dark and majestic with an aura of nobility. The man was the nightmare she was tied to by an alliance that was meant to end bloodshed in their beloved island. He had Mary clinging to him as always. She would be convinced that he was the devil himself, except he was all gentle and loving towards his mistress.

“Your Highness,” she greeted weakly and stood aside for them to pass her. Lady Mary’s foot slightly touched hers before she tumbled sideways, prompting the king to catch her.

“She placed her foot there, Max. She is trying to kill our baby,” Lady Mary accused with misty eyes while the king shot daggers at his defiant queen.

Queen Zania could only shake her head. She did not even touch the woman, but she had long gotten tired of defending herself. Her husband would believe his mistress anyway.

“Where have you been?” the king gritted his teeth, his eyes blazing at her. The maids and guards quickly got out of the way. Their king was in a foul mood and no one was spared in those instances.

Queen Zania glared back at him, anger and resentment brewing inside her and threatening to explode. His animosity towards her did not surprise her at all. It had been like that for five years. Since the day she married him. What surprised her was that he had noticed that she was away for the past two days.

“I want divorce.”

The words came out unexpectedly, shocking her as well. Maybe it was grief, but it suddenly occurred to her that he had already destroyed everything she held dear. The rest of her tribe she was trying to protect were not living peacefully at all. She had nothing left for him to threaten her with.

“Marrying you was a mistake. Loving you was a mistake. This union was a mistake. I am done,” she declared with a weak but firm voice while he exclaimed in disbelief, his anger rising. He did not even notice how she struggled to remain standing on her feet.

“Ha! Done?” he asked. “You are done when I say you are done!” he roared with his whole face trembling and nostrils flaring.

“I want separation of powers, Maxwell. We were better off as separate tribes,” she continued, and ignored his ridiculous statement. He might be the king, but she was the queen. They were both royals who were the rightful heirs of the two tribes of Jolly island. They should have been equals in their union.

“Over my dead body!” he yelled angrily, while his mistress flinched before quickly maintaining her elusive smile.

“Why not? You love her, why don’t you divorce me and be with her?” the queen asked. Her question seemed to fuel his anger. She did not understand why he refused to let her go when he clearly resented her. The first time she asked, he apprehended her best friend. She had apologised and begged him to release her friend. She shook her head, refusing to think about everything he cost her.

“You don’t tell me what to do, Zania. You are nothing here!”

It was a crazy utterance considering that they were equals, but he had successfully reduced her to nothing. He executed all the powerful men and women of her tribe and taken over all their resources. She had compromised too much to try and save her people, but he still killed them. Now that she realised there he could not take anything else from her, she was done playing a perfect queen.

“I am royalty and I am done,” she yelled back and stormed away.

Her father will have to forgive her. She tried her best to unite the tribes to fulfil his dying wish, but that was all she could take. Everyone had a limit and she had reached hers.

She was packing her belongings when a frantic maid ran in, terror written all over her face.

“Your Highness! Your Highness!”

“What is it, Sophie?” she asked with a sinking heart, her friend’s murder playing over in her head. Sophie was the one who came to inform her of Celia’s death that day. The stress of it all was what led to her second miscarriage.

“The game reserve. It…it… it’s on flames!” Sophie blurted out before bursting into tears.

“No!” the queen exclaimed, and rushed out. She thought her husband could not take anything else away from her, but she was wrong. Her whole life mission was to protect the island’s wild life. The animals were the life of the island.

“He didn’t, he didn’t…” she mumbled to herself as she ran outside and noticed the smoke over the game reserve already covering the rest of island’s left coast. She did not need to ask who the culprit was. That was how her husband retaliated when she opposed him.

“Oh, look at that, your precious animals are screaming for you,” Lady Mary sneered while inspecting her nails and proudly rubbing her pregnant tummy.

Ignoring her husband’s mistress, Queen Zania rushed to the car. Her tears streamed down as she approached her beloved game reserve. The screams, squeaking and distress calls of the animals filled her ears while the charred flesh filled her nostrils.

She quietly joined the people who were assisting the fireman extinguish the flames. She did not need to ask to know that they were all from her tribe. Wild animals were revered by her tribe.

The elephant carcasses a distance away made her tears pour out. She knew every one of them, and them, her. Her life and theirs were intertwined in a way. It was her responsibility to protect them and she failed. It was the same with her people. She failed to be their protector.

“It is futile, My Queen. The animals are gone. It’s all gone,” the game ranger she knew very well, told her with misty eyes and a bleeding heart.

She frantically shook her head and continued throwing water at the flames, which seemed to soar at every bucketful she threw at them.

“Your Highness, the flames are too big and dangerous! We have to move back and wait for the helicopter,” one of the fireman urged, but Queen Zania continued throwing the water, until her fragile body could not hold on any longer.