Dove stirred on his sickbed. "So, did you acquire the sea salt then?" Dove mumbled.
"I did." Neil reached forward to help Dove sit up. He replaced the wet cloth on his forehead with a new one and handed him a bowl of soup. "Hold it carefully."
"Yeah, I will, and what about the baneberries? Did the old lady give them to you?" he asked.
"She did. Now, eat first. Let me get you the loaf of bread." Neil replied.
Dove stared downwards at the bowl of soup in his hands as Neil entered with another plate having a loaf of bread on it.
"Come on Dove, start eating," Neil instructed. He began meticulously breaking down the loaf into small pieces of crumbs so that it would be easier to chew it down.
"When are you going to Belyrnna today? To get the golden orange?" Dove asked.
"I think I'll go in the evening as it's really hot during the afternoons when the sun is right overhead," Neil replied as Dove began emptying the contents in the bowl. This brightened the young prince's eyes and brought back some of his colors.
"I want to go with you."
"Dove, you're still sick. You need to rest," Neil said.
"I don't want to let you go alone. What if something happens to you while acquiring it? Who's to say you'll be safe?"
"Why? Is there any Cascadian legend about the field of Belyrnna?'' Neil asked dryly.
"None I know of," Dove said.
"Then, there won't be any harm done to me. You don't have to worry about me. Look after yourself first."
Dove clutches at Neil's hand but then immediately draws them back. His breath grows short and rapid. "No, the risk is too great, I can't lose you. You're my only real friend. You're too important."
Neil stayed silent for a minute then chuckled dryly. "I tried to kill you, Dove. What are you talking about? We were not friends, we're simply acquainted."
He looks downwards as he starts fidgeting with the comforter, "We stayed together, we looked after each other and most importantly we were ourselves when we spent time together during our quests. We didn't have to hide our insecurities or the parts we were ashamed of around each other. We saw each other's good and ugly parts. In fact, after quite a few years, I'm finally looking forward to living my days because I have an important purpose now; you."
Neil couldn't dare cast aspersions on Dove's bona fides because he knew he meant every word he said. But did he, himself, care about Dove? Or was it all just for the sake of their quest? He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that the crowned prince of Cascadia could think of him as his muse.
"The most interesting thing in my life right now is to anticipate what might lie just around the next corner," Dove said. "Sometimes my willingness to tempt fate leads us into strange paths. So I don't want to miss out on our next adventure."
"How can you be so optimistic? Aren't you scared of me, that I might do something to you?" Neil asked. His stomach was in knots yet he waited with bated breath to know what Dove had to say about it.
"There's no need to be. You're my friend. I trust you." His face lit up with a small smile.
"You're too innocent for your good. One of these days, people will take advantage of your gullible nature." Neil picked up the bowl and the plate from him and placed them back in the kitchen near the dishwasher. He came back into a room and sat back on his bedside.
"Maybe they will, maybe they won't. But one thing's for sure. You're different. You're Neil," Dove said.
"I am different? How so?"
"It's because it's you. I know you, and I can understand your pain," Dove said, making eye contact with Neil and ceasing his fidgeting with the comforter. Something about Dove's gaze made Neil's stomach squirm. Was he feeling nervous? But why?
"Do you truly understand me? You're the Prince of Cascadia, while I'm a poor refugee from India."
Dove opened up, his voice filled with pain and vulnerability as he recounted his story. "When I was just seven years old, I lost the most important person in my life - my mother. My younger sister Rosalyn, only three at the time, and I were left to pick up the pieces of our shattered family. It was a difficult time, but my father did his best to keep us afloat. However, within a few months, he felt the need to get remarried."
His voice trailing off, Dove's eyes clouded over with memories. "She was... well, let's just say she didn't have the same affection for me that my father did. Our relationship grew increasingly difficult as time went on."
Taking a deep breath he had been holding back, Dove continued his narrative. "Seven years later, my father died in a war. Devastation consumed me. To make matters worse, my little sister fell ill with a new, unknown virus. The doctors were baffled, and fear gripped us all. But my stepmother, bitter and resentful after my father's death, directed her anger toward my poor sister. She refused to provide her with the necessary medication, and within a week, she was gone. My stepmother left me alone, drowning in grief and anger."
As Dove spoke, his voice shook with emotion, yet it also carried a sense of maturity and understanding.
A solitary tear escaped from Dove's eye.
Responding instinctively, Neil stepped forward and gently wiped it away.
Observing Dove and listening intently to his words, Neil felt the weight of his story settle upon him. It became increasingly clear that Dove grappled with something far deeper than the loss of his loved ones.
With his voice heavy with emotion, Dove continued, "My life lacked purpose. I merely existed, going through the motions, attempting to stay afloat. The only thing that propelled me forward was the thought of the people in my kingdom and the responsibility I felt toward them. I couldn't allow them to suffer under the rule of someone undeserving, particularly after everything they had endured."
Comprehending the gravity of Dove's words, Neil shouldered the burden of his empathy. He understood the struggles Dove carried, the relentless pursuit of meaning amidst profound loss.
Neil passed him the handkerchief placed near the lamp on the bedside.
"I'm sure you'll make a good king, seeing how much you care about your people," Neil said. He looked away, embarrassed to make eye contact with Dove as it was the first time he had ever appreciated him.
"That's kind of you to say. But I don't necessarily want to become the next person to ascend the throne. I only aspire that my kingdom has a suitable ruler. It doesn't mean that it has to be me."
"Oh." Neil was astonished on hearing that he had always assumed that Dove had agreed to help him just to ascend the throne.
As Dove spoke, Neil found himself listening intently to the prince's story. He was touched by Dove's vulnerability and honesty. It was a rare thing to witness, especially for someone who had lived such a privileged life. But Dove's struggles were real, and Neil could feel the pain in his words.
Listening to Dove, Neil began to see the prince in a new light. No longer just a figurehead of the kingdom, but a person who had overcome great hardship and was now driven by a sense of duty and responsibility.
"Also, Neil, I forgive you," Dove said in a soft, gentle voice.
As Dove's words penetrated Neil's guarded heart, he felt the weight of guilt and shame he had been carrying for so long begin to lift. It was a surreal moment for him, one that he had never thought was possible. It was one of the few moments in his life, he felt seen and understood by someone, and the feeling was both liberating and frightening.
As he looked into Dove's eyes, Neil realized that there was something more here than just a simple apology. He realized that this was more than just a gesture of kindness. It was a catalyst for change, a chance to let go of the past and start anew.
"Thank you," Neil whispered, his voice betraying the emotion he had been trying to suppress. Dove's grip tightened, providing a sense of comfort that Neil had never felt before.
Neil realized that there was something special growing between them - a sense of camaraderie and friendship that he had never felt before.
For a moment, they sat in silence, basking in the glow of their newfound connection. Neil looked up to find a smile on Dove's face, mirroring his ownâa smile filled with relief, release, and hope for the future.
Dove broke the silence, curiosity evident in his voice. "Where did you learn English, Neil? Your fluency is remarkable."
Neil's cheeks flushed with slight embarrassment at the compliment. "I used to save up money to buy those fancy English newspapers that were popular in my town. I dedicated a lot of my free time to studying them. I suppose that's how I improved."
Impressed, Dove leaned forward, a mischievous wink in his eye. "That's quite impressive. Tell me more about yourself, my dear friend."
Neil chuckled, shaking his head. "We're not friends, Dove," he playfully retorted, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
Dove feigned offense, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. "How can you say that after the moment we just shared? You wound me deeply."
Neil rolled his eyes, unable to hide his smile. "Don't be ridiculous! We didn't share any significant moment."
Despite Neil's protest, time slipped away as they continued talking. Countless memorable instances and stories were exchanged between them, each contributing to the deepening bond forming between Neil and Dove.
In the bedroom, a massive black clock towered against the wall. Its pendulum swung back and forth, emitting a dull, weighty, and monotonous clang. As the minute hand completed its journey around the clock's face, signaling the striking of the hour, a distinct and resonant sound emanated from the clock's metallic chambers. The tone was clear, loud, and deep, possessing an extraordinary musical quality. However, it possessed a peculiar note and emphasis that, with each passing hour, left a lasting impression.
The young prince still annoyed Neil, but he couldn't deny that somewhere deep inside, he felt lighter and happier as each hour passed, and the clock struck in that dimly lit bedroom.
A/N
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