The Window That Could Have Been

“The Prince of Rorubur has gifted you a palace, Your Majesty Queen Sophoronia.”

The Queen scoffed, “That man… He dares to invade my kingdom after years of our cooperation, then scurries back like a child after a beating. No doubt he requires my assistance once again.”

Mary nodded enthusiastically, her gold hair bouncing. She was the Queen’s lady in waiting, young as she may be, and looked up to her like she was the Sun itself.

The Queen had grown old, much of the company she had spent her youth with had grown silent, their estates inherited by heirs who often lost it on irresponsible barters or gambling. But she too wished to leave the stiff life of politics and prestige to someone younger. She often wondered if abdication was an option, if she had an heir perhaps, it would be. Mary was the closest to that, but the she knew that her kingdom would become restless under the rule of a servant.

“Bring me the records of Rorubur’s commerce exchanges and foreign interactions for this week. His father has probably sparked trouble with Prince Kurlec of Crastuth…”

The young girl nodded again and scurried out of the room.

Minutes later she returned, several files pressed against her chest and craning her neck to look over them. She tripped; her face planted on the files with a thump.

The Queen limped to help her off the ground and gathered the files. “Oh, Mary,” was all she said.

Mary wobbled and brushed off her skirt, “Queen Sophoronia, I spoke to your Curia Regis, Morgath. He believes it would be most beneficial if you visited the palace, in person. Out of courtesy rather than… interest.”

“Mary, the worst about my predicament is that I will eventually have to combine forces with him again. Else, some Great Power will try to take advantage of this conflict and intervene.” She sighed.

Mary hesitated, “Shall I tell the Curia Regis to prepare a carriage, Your Majesty?”

“Please.”

                                                                               ***

A cold breeze gushed against them as they stepped out. Mary pulled her shawl tighter around her and the Queen let out an exasperated sigh. A great storm was brewing overhead. Clouds rumbled through the blackening sky and lightening split through the darkness, bright purple.

“Sir Morgath, please ensure that supplies are distributed among the citizens. And inform Mis Doryana to stop all trading,” Queen Sophoronia said and frowned up, “We will need the stock, it looks like there will be a week-long downpour.”

“Your Majesty, many of our interoceanic merchants set off for sea last week to Southern kingdoms…They will likely be stopping in subsequent territories till the storm has passed,” He paused.

“What were they trading?”

“Much of our cattle and crops…”

She shook her head, “Then save what we have and ration the supplies to fit for two weeks, at least.”

Morgath nodded, “When shall you return?”

“Once the storm has subdued, this building will offer as sufficient shelter till then.”

The advisor pursed his lips, “Till then.” He bowed and remounted his beast then rode off.

                                                                               ***

 “Where has this storm apparated from?” Queen Sophoronia said.

“Do you think this rain is a curse?” Mary asked, shuddering.

“From Prince Yustery? Perhaps,” Queen Sophoronia replied.

They were greeted with broad smiles by the servants. Butlers and maids walked to-and-fro with their chins drawn to their collars. This, and the curtains being drawn gave the palace an eerie aurora of gloom. The lady-in-waiting tried to stay a step behind the Queen, but soon found herself pressed at her Majesty’s side, eyes darting side to side wearily.

“These will be your chambers, feel free to explore the palace at your will,” The butler gave a white-toothed smile. She bowed and walked backwards to the staircase where she turned on her heel and resumed the drooping posture of the servants.

“Your Majesty, maybe we should ask Curia Regis to return us a little early…”

“I wish I could Mary, but as you said, courtesy before comfortability,” she said, “We will return when the storm wishes us to. Come, you may share my chamber.”

At first, she disagreed and insisted on allowing the Queen to sleep alone, however the footsteps from the staircase seized all resistance. A maid walked towards them, hunched over.

“Your refreshments, Your Majesty.” Her voice was nasally and drawn out.

Mary took the tray from the woman and quickly entered the room.

The floor was cold and unvarnished. One bed, only slightly larger than a single sized bed, and furniture spread around the room with little thought for appearance.

“Well,” Queen Sophoronia said as she slipped off her sandals and closed the door behind her, “I am glad I have a bed.”

Mary couldn’t help but shake her head in frustration, “Your Majesty, if I didn’t know any better, I would say Prince Yustery only presented you with this palace to prove to the Great Powers that he’s still on good-terms with you rather than to please you! After what he’s done!”

The Queen smiled weakly, “Quite right, Mary.”

A white rocking-chair sat purposefully by the curtained window. Mary wondered about it for a second before she spread the drinks out on the small dining table.

“Mary, push that table-cloth of a curtain to the side, please. This room is as dim as Yustery himself,” she said, then laughed once she caught Mary’s expression.

The curtains were heavy, like they were made of piles of velvet. With a grunt of effort, she pulled each onto two enormous holdbacks. She only looked up when the Queen gasped.

There was silence as the two looked out the window, into a ballroom. Ladies and gentlemen chatted and danced. Standing by the window, and seemingly oblivious of it, were a group of friends laughing and drinking.

Mary took a step back and gasped, “What is this?” She turned to the Queen and added, “Your majesty.”

A few seconds passed, Mary could hear the conversation of the group of friends discussing and glancing at a couple on the dance floor.

“Open the window,” the Queen said.

Without question but hesitation, Mary obliged. She unlatched a twisted gold lock and pushed forward. Instead of a glorious interruption and thousands of bewildered faces turning to them, the window opened onto a black night, nothing visible through the downpour of rain. A gust of wind caught the window and snapped it open. Mary screamed, reached out and slammed it closed. Immediately, the ballroom reappeared.

She swallowed and let out a staggered breath, “Witchcraft, it must be witchcraft!”

The Queen helped the girl onto the bed, “That would be the only explanation.”

“Your Majesty, this is… this is illegal. Prince – No, Yustery,” She said with utmost indignation, “Has cast magic in the palace of the Queen of Dorbain! We must leave!”

“Rest Mary, he can not harm us without facing severe consequences. Curia Regis remains safe and I will call for him by morning.”

She pulled the curtains closed. Mary lay at the far edge of the bed and curled deep under the covers. Soon she was asleep.

But Queen Sophoronia remained awake.

Several hours passed before she sighed and sat up, dropping her head into hands. Despite her previous statement she felt he nerves racking inside her. She was in the property of a spiteful ruler, served by his servants and guards. A ruler who had the nerve to trespass onto her land, begin a war, lose terribly, then gift her with a palace touched by magic. Where would he stop? The question lingered, was Mograth really safe? Were she and her lady-in-waiting safe in a mad prince’s palace? She could still hear the rain drumming on the ceiling and windows. Lightning cracked the air and thunder continued to growl. The room must have had loose boards because she could smell the dusty, muddy smell of rain. Without pondering the consequences, she pulled open the curtains.

The ball continued. People talked and danced and ate. A low hum of music and conversation filled the room. Except this time, the Queen found herself squinting at a figure in green in the centre of the room, laughing, moving towards the window to a woman who beckoned her.

The green figure was, undoubtedly, herself.

“Maritha!” She saw herself call, a beaming smile on her face. She looked younger, her hair was dark black, free of white specks, and her skin taught and clear.

Maritha sipped from a glass and spoke cheerfully, “I just heard of what happened at Gaole!”

Gaole was one of the four lands of Great Power, Sophoronia frowned.

Her window-self laughed and waved a delicate hand, “Oh it was nothing!”

“You conquered Crastuth just the other year, so I would expect it would be, nothing,” Maritha laughed.

Sophoronia’s frown deepened, what was this? She found herself hoping it foretold the future. Was it possible to grow younger?

A butler walked up to the Queen and whispered something to her. She nodded and spoke, “Come Maritha, we have business with Sir Kurlec.”

Maritha chuckled, a hint of malice present.

The name was familiar to Sophoronia, Prince Kurlec of Crastuth. But Crastuth had been conquered apparently.

The window seemed to move along with the two women. Sophoronia watched as they approached a man by the entrance. She noted that he was still smiling bitterly and looked pleasantly well off, according to his attire.

“Kurlec,” The Queen said.

“Prince Kurlec,” he snarled.

There was barely a wave of the hand and two men in armor by the great doors circled his arms and pulled him out. He yelped and the doors closed before he could even turn to protest.

The Queen turned on her heel, “Our business with Kurlec has been cancelled, we are wanted with Prince Yustery…”

Sophoronia stiffened. Of all people, why was he still a prince?

Once again, the window followed the two to a table by a large window. She searched the area for a certain nuisance and soon spotted him stalking towards them.

“Your Majesty,” he said, his voice laced with hatred but kept low, he took a deep breath, “How are your warfare on goings?”

Was he always this strained when he spoke to her mirror self or had he seen the façade with Prince Kurlec? She sat down in the white chair and found herself smiling either way.

“Straight to the point, I’m glad you took my advice from our previous conversation, Prince Yustery.”

He stiffened.

She continued, “I have my generals courting battles on many grounds. And as you know, many of them look like they will have end quite successfully.”

This seemed to knock Prince Yustery’s ego and his voice came out in almost a squeak, “Please Your Highness, my people are suffering a famine. General Aldehise has barricaded my trading routes, people are dying.”

The Queen shook her head in dismay, “That is awful. If I were ruling such a land, I would ensure General Aldehise were dealt with and my citizens would surely be fulfilled all their needs.”

Prince Yustery’s eye twitched, “Remove your army from my land. Please!” he raised his voice.

All it took was the Queen to turn her head to him and he immediately groveled, “Forgive me.”

With that, he left. Maritha and the Queen talked on.

Sophoronia listened intently as they talked. It came as no surprise to hear that her other-self had conquered not only Gaole and Crastuth but the lush land of Toverin too. Her body relaxed into the chair and she watched on, entranced by the window.

She allowed herself to become consumed by hope. Somewhere in the distance Sophoronia heard a young girl call her, the girl tried to block her view and so she called for a butler to have her moved. And she watched on. She watched as she conquered Rorubur, and soon after, she won the Great land of Deserick. Through the window, her empire grew, and Sophoronia hoped that one day she too could fulfill those goals in this world.

After a long while, someone barged into the room. She heard him mention something about Prince Yustery invading and frowned. No, Yustery was no more than a businessman, he lost the title of a prince months ago.

And one day, somehow, the girl returned. She sounded older. She spoke to Sophoronia but Sophoronia didn’t pay attention to her. The window showed her cutting a ribbon, promising all who was who were born to the world, her protection. It was no longer a funny sight to see herself mingling amongst wealthy people who welcomed her brightly. She had once been old and ruled over a small land of Dorbain, few would care to glance at her, let alone converse with her. It was so simple to hope for these achievements, and now she was seeing them play out before her.

And then, when her window-self had begun to show signs of age – the window smashed.

Sophoronia watched on. What was that? There was a scream.

“- Look at what you’ve become!” a lady yelled; blood dripped from her knuckles.

Sophoronia turned to her and tilted her head, “Mary?” her voice sounded crisp and frail.

Two guards ran into the room and took hold of the woman before they saw the window. Then they look at Sophoronia.

“What happened? What happened to you? You look like you’ve aged overnight,” Sophoronia laughed.

The guards grunted as Mary pulled her arms form their grasp and knelt by her.

She covered her mouth, “My Queen...” she said through tears.

“Mary? What is…?” A warm breeze fluttered through the window and brought with it the smell of morning dew and flowers. Sophoronia’s brow creased, “The storm has passed, I will call for Curia Regis.”

“Oh my Queen what has become of you!” Mary cried, “You don’t understand! Oh!” She shook her head in frustration and wiped her tears of anguish.

Perhaps it was how much her bones ached, or how her eyesight had weakened, but Sophoronia immediately understood. She lifted her hands and studied the way her skin had wrinkled and paled, like crumpled paper.

She placed her hand under the woman’s chin “Mary, how long has it been?”

Through a staggered breath Mary said, “Six years.”

“And what has changed?”

“Everything… Prince Yustery has conquered Dorbain. The people revolted but he subdued them with violence. He has conquered Crastuth and Deserik.” This palace has been heavily guarded until recently. I’m sorry!” She buried her head in her hands.

Sophoronia shuddered; how she had been deluded. “Forgive me, Mary.”