AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“And do you think my grandfather’s spirit is at peace?” Prince Maedras said, his eyes thoughtful.
“I do.” I smiled softly at him. “I think he’s watching over you. That song we heard, it’s an old Elvish song. Its meaning is lost to me.” Prince Maedras took a sip of his tea, and I watched him over the rim of my cup. “It’s a song of mourning, but it also held a note of hope. I think that’s what your grandfather would want you to remember.”
There was still hope for him if he changed his ways.
Prince Maedras was silent for a long moment, and then he nodded. “Thank you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
I looked outside of the window to give him the privacy to grieve and saw the people of the city going about their lives. This was the old part of the city where most of the hearth casters still dwelled.
The hearth caster community was hidden from view, but I knew it was there. The carvings in the building were ritualistic and not only decorative. I wasn’t sure what they all meant, but I felt the familiar magic emanating from them. Peaceful, yet powerful.
Dryads and Halflings were not an uncommon sight. This was the closest thing to what Manzimor used to be. A home for all.
I turned back to Prince Maedras, who composed himself. He met my gaze. “I wished to apologize to you. In my anger, I said some unforgivable things.”
I closed my eyes before opening them again. “It was the truth, and I understand why you said it. I forgive you.”
He placed the teacup in his hands on the table. His eyes widened slightly. “You forgive me? Why?”
My fingers steepled together in front of me as I stared at him. “Words spoken in anger are words that are often regretted. I’ve said things in anger that I wish I could take back. So, I understand.” I inclined my head. “Your grievance with me was not without cause. I’ve not been the easiest person to deal with.”
He looked away. “It was unseemly of me.”
Even a prince had emotions. Perfection was an ideal, and one that was often unattainable. I could understand his anger and his frustration. I didn’t fault him for it.
“I think it was very understandable, under the circumstances.” I looked up at him and saw that his expression was unreadable. Once again, he thought I played a game with him. I sighed. “Cultural miscommunication was at the core of this issue. Our understanding of our respective roles differs.”
He sipped his tea, and his eyes narrowed. “I see,” he drawled. “And what exactly is your understanding of your role, Thimsal?”
It was the first time he said my name. My name and not a nickname. Surprised, I met his gaze. “I am Midarian,” I said, as if that explained everything. But I knew it didn’t. Not to him. “We have different expectations of what is good for the realm. I focused on the people while you spoke from the perspective of the Eternal Court. During our conversation, we each assumed the other was wrong and being deceitful, when in reality we were both right, from our different perspectives.”
He inclined his head in thought. “Midarians have always been like us in our political understanding of the realm.”
Unlike the Dryads, who believed in the sanctity of nature above all else, or the Naga, who seemed to believe in the sanctity of themselves. Midarians valued hierarchy, but we also had a great sense of community.
But unlike the Elves, Midarians did not shy away from change. We were constantly reinventing ourselves, including our values and beliefs. It was the thing I admired about my people.
“House Finardsil can only rule peacefully by appeasing the Houses and the Guilds. Former Caids always understood this.”
Despite his words, I didn’t feel he was accusing me of anything. His tone was more thoughtful. I pondered on my words. I didn’t want to bring up terrible memories for him, but for us to truly understand each other, he needed to know the truth.
“That was before the Hundred Year’s War.”
His face turned blank, and he looked away. I knew he was thinking of the war. The one that had decimated Manzimor.
“The Elves were there, and the wounds of that battle are still fresh. But so are ours. I think that’s why we clash so much. We’re too similar yet different. We both have a lot of pain that we’re still dealing with.”
Generational trauma had been passed down in my family. It was something that was always there, a shadow in the back of my mind. Fear of the past repeating itself. Isolating us from others, even those who could help us heal. What happened during that war still influenced Midar to this day.
The trauma of the Elves was different. The Elves had been there. They had seen it happen. They fought and bled and lost so much. And yet, they were still here. Still fighting. I respected that.
A muscle in his jaw twitched and his eyes turned fiery. “Thank you for your honesty. It is refreshing.”
I leaned forward and placed my right hand on the table. “I try to be honest. It’s not always easy, but I think it’s important.”
He needed to understand. Needed to understand why we were the way we were. I had to make him see.
He nodded. “I agree.” He was silent for a long time and then he said, “I would like to hear more. Would you be willing to tell me about it?”
