Maria Pia Oelker "In The East"

" I don't think the king just wanted to joke while he was here, he never takes things lightly, much less, I imagine, if it's his son he is dealing with. But I also believe that what you say is right, preceptor, and I agree with you that it is better, despite everything, for the prince to resume his studies and his usual life.”

" Mother! The king recommended to continue ... " protested the boy.

" I know, but you can do it during your free time from studying. After all, the winter season is not far away, and you will be home more. You will have time to keep the promises made to the king.”

" My father assured me that he will be back soon," the prince again tried.

" Maybe he will; but state affairs are never so brief, and probably several months will pass before he is here again.”

" I don't believe it," the child murmured, his voice almost trembling with disappointment and spite.

The queen stroked his hair and kissed him on the forehead: " I would like for him to come back soon, but I learned to be realistic and to wait patiently. Now, if you love me, you will listen to your good teacher and learn the useful things he wants to teach you. I will wait to be instructed by you in the game of chess as soon as you have some time to dedicate to me and in the evening, I will come to see you. Do you agree?”

" As you want.”

" Shall we go then, your highness? " urged the master with a certain impatience,barely disguised by his flattering voice tone.

" I'm ready. Good-bye, mother.”

" See you later. And remember that later, immediately after lunch, you will have to help Antonia to tidy up your things in the new room.”

" Can I ask which room? " asked the teacher.

"The little room in the king's apartment," answered the queen.

The teacher raised his eyebrows, disapproving, but did not dare to criticize openly.

For the moment at least.

He intended to take up the subject again later and hoped to be able to make her understand his belief: he did not think it was a good thing for the child to believe the king had shown him interest and affection; it wouldn't last, everyone knew that the sovereign was fickle and inclined to anger. Before that he had never even bothered to look at his son and all that sweetness and submissiveness shown in the past few days would most likely not continue. He was sure of it and would convince the queen. And then the prince was now grown up and had to be kept in check; he had to lead a severe, orderly life, without giving too much weight to his whims and to his natural, bizarre inclinations. All that freedom to come and go from and to the castle and the park, those stories about wild animals to look after and dreams and stars and ... all the rest. The king had enjoyed his son as if it were an unusual pastime, but it had not been an educational experience, and something had to be done to remedy the situation. He believed he was the right person to do just that and, after all, the king himself had explicitly recognized this fact.

He would have induced the prince to limit games and forays and to commit himself with more order and stability to study matters more useful to his rank.

And indeed, the prince, from then onward, had not much time to look out the bars of the gate at the road that led to the city and to observe the night sky from the windows. His day was filled to the minute by the hours that the master had set up for him and the queen had only partially succeeded in mitigating to give her and her son the possibility of enjoying each other's company for a few hours.

Early in the morning the child was still able to find his way into the park, but he had to return almost immediately for the first lessons, and he could no longer jump over the hedges and discover the secrets of the garden.

The tutor always waited for him with his severe demeanor on the study door and reproached him pedantically whenever he was even a few minutes late.

“ If your Highness does not respect what we agreed on, I will have to insist with the queen to take away your permission to visit the park in the morning ” he repeated obsessively.

The boy knew that his mother would defend him, but he feared that in the end the master would appeal to the king and, on that front, he was no longer so sure.

He had trusted his father and believed him when he had made promises, but apparently the master had been right in saying that the king had just wanted to amuse himself and his mother stating he should not believe the king would return soon.

And, although in fact they were not exactly the same, the prince always combined the two concepts, arriving at the desolate conclusion that he was not at all important to his father and that he would therefore not see him again for a long time. Meanwhile, he had to obey the preceptor, because his mother wanted him to, and bow his head to his every-day more despotic and senseless pretensions, at least in his opinion.

When the king, after a couple of months, finally wrote to reassure the queen, who had complained about the excessive severity of the master, and to point out that he would have supervised personally and checked, on his return, that his excessive involvement was not an issue, the Prince felt extremely disappointed that the sovereign made no mention of a set return date and even more because he rarely heard from him, except for the usual generic recommendations that every parent has for one’s children.

Did the king no longer think of him? Had he abandoned him?

He thought about this for whole nights and during distracting gloomy days, which gave him insomnia and made him incredibly careless in his tasks, which caused him to be punished. But he no longer seemed to notice the humiliations inflicted on him or the severe threats of the tutor. His mother herself could not get anything out of him.

Sometimes in the morning he stood in the deer grove, motionless, for a very long time, even after his friends had left, staring at the fallen fence as if trying to understand what message was hidden for him. But he could not make sense of the thoughts that crowded his mind, garbled, and confused, and ended up getting lost behind timeless shadows without logic.

One day he even forgot to come back for classes. They looked for him everywhere, but nobody could see him, crouched as he was behind a bush of laurel, deaf and blind.

His mother became alarmed and left the park in person to track him down. When, finally, he emerged from his hiding place, as if from a dream, unaware of the time and of the commotion caused, the master was beside himself with anger and the queen herself, already quite worried, was beginning to question if the king and the preceptor were right to ask her to be firmer with the prince. Was it possible that he did not understand that his whims did not make it easier for her to help him?

The result was that she agreed to an exemplary punishment and forbade the prince, to the master's immense satisfaction, to go out in the park from then on, until he would show greater commitment and sense of responsibility.

The prince wept and begged his mother in vain: he got absolutely nothing in return. And that was really the first time.

In the evening, opening himself up to Antonia, the child tried to explain his reasons to the nurse, but obviously even he could not fully understand what had prompted him act that way. The nurse rocked him in her arms, calming his sorrowful sobs and promised to talk to the queen.

But when she whispered: "But, my darling, you should also be more obedient with your mother and the teacher," he shouted: "Everyone here is betraying me!"

And those had been his real feelings for months, feelings he had never dared to confess even to himself.

”Who betrayed you? “ asked the governess.

” My father first, today my mother and now ... now you too.”

"No, Your Highness, not me," she said firmly.

“ Yes, you too. I am obedient, I do what I can to please everyone and nobody, no one believes me.”

“ I believe you.”

“ It's not true.”

“ I believe you “ repeated Antonia “ I know you're right, but why did you behave like that with your mother today?”

“ I didn't hear you, I told you. I swear. I didn't notice anything. Maybe I was asleep. I haven't been sleeping for many nights now.”

"Why, Your Highness? This is not good."

“ I was hoping the king would come back soon; he had promised me, and I believed him, but they were just lies. Everyone tells me lies and nobody loves me.”

“ Your mother loves you.”

“ No. Why doesn’t she send away that master who hates me?”

“ What are you saying? These are big accusations.”

“ But it's true. You don't see the look in his eyes when he looks at me and how happy he is if he can humiliate me in front of everyone, including my mother. And if I rebel, he tells my mother that I am irreverent and rude to him. And she believes him!”

His words ended in a scream broken by pain and burning indignation. Antonia was unable to answer him, but he did not need an answer (his day was filled with questions and answers) and Antonia's affection, even if it was not enough, was still excellent medicine.

Spring returned and the prince, who had not yet regained permission to run around the park before his lessons in the morning, suddenly realized that he did not care anymore that year to find the first flowery violets and to go and tell his mother triumphantly. And although he was still too young to be frightened by this unnatural disinterest, he instinctively felt that he didn't like it.

It was then that he decided to run away from the castle.

What about his mother? He was sorry to leave her, but for months now he had no longer spoken to her with the sincerity of the past.

And his father? He wouldn't even notice.

The only ones who would really feel bad would have been Antonia and the old gardener, but, after all, they too would soon get over it and would not miss him that much.

One morning he awoke before dawn as the sky was just beginning to turn its black cloak to a pearly grey, which in the east faded to a very light yellow; he cautiously went by the bed of the housekeeper who slept soundly after having long watched over him the night before; he opened the door quietly and hurried down the stairs. He was barefoot not to be heard by the early morning servants and he held in his hand, besides the shoes, only a blanket and the travel book his father had read to him many times at the time of their friendship.

He entered the stables. No one was there yet. Fortunately, the animals did not neigh when he arrived. He untied his horse, a young chestnut with a gentle face and a quick gait, he got it ready, arranged two travel bags on the sides of the saddle, filling them with provisions, which he had stolen from the pantry the night before and hidden under the hay. Touching it with his forefinger in front of its mouth to tell it to be silent and not to betray him, he led it outside. The alleys of the park were empty, no one around, but he had to hurry if he wanted to have some distance over his potential followers.

As soon as morning came, Antonia would open the windows of his room to call him to his daily duties and give him time to calmly prepare for the first lessons. She would immediately notice his absence, and, in her simple mindedness, she likely would not wait to sound the alarm to help him out. She would likely scream, waking everyone up.

The prince smiled at the thought, but he could not scorn the nurse for this. With her, he was always very indulgent, because he loved her deeply.

He entered the woods through the fallen fence and jumped into the saddle. He walked quickly along the path that ran behind the castle and arrived on the road that led to the passes in less than half an hour. He slowed down his horse a little and began to look to the eastern horizon. The pale yellow was getting warmer and there were some touches of bright pink near the cradle of the sun. In a few minutes, perhaps ten, fifteen at the most, the sun would appear from behind the pass between the two highest peaks, illuminating the tips of the great towers of the palace and waking Antonia, the servants, and then, increasingly dangerous for him, the butler, his mother, and his teacher.

“He will scream to no end " he thought with a grin " and he will wear his shoes down by walking up and down the corridors and halls. He will get angrier and he will melt at the idea of having me in his hands to get revenge. They won’t have any power over me. No one will have any power over me anymore.”

The stablemen were not very diligent at that time of the year because almost no one went on horseback when the king was not there and the noble beasts were not let out until later in the morning, when the weather was warmer. So, he thought, more precious time would pass before they found out that his young chestnut was missing and connected the two disappearances.

The road began to rise rapidly, skirting the swollen river of muddy water. When the prince saw the old tower, he decided to stop. He forgot that he was in a hurry and that he absolutely had to get to the pass before it was late in the day and that the number of men and animals increased to the point of forcing him to hide in the thick of the forest so as not to be seen. He knew that there a barely checked secondary road that went to the other side and emerged directly within the borders of the neighboring state. He had once been told about it by a boy from the stable whose cousin was involved in salt smuggling. But he wasn't sure he could find it and he didn't want to run the risk of being recognized by someone and being brought back. He shivered in the cold of the morning at the idea of what would happen to him if ...

But the tower drew him in. He left the horse tied to a tree a little distant and well hidden, then he slowly opened the door and carefully climbed the uneven steps. Almost without realizing it, he found himself crying silently and the more he tried to get more strength, the more he sobbed, his tears running down his cheeks and nose. He kept rubbing his face with the sleeves of his clothes and felt increasingly unhappy.

“ I am a prince,” he told himself, and instead he was just a small lonely fugitive.

Finally, he arrived in the room where he had been with his father and opened the window on the river. He took a deep breath and calmed a little. He placed the ladder against the hatch above his head and, with some effort, managed to open it.

The upper room was lower, and the windows were simple square holes, slightly larger than his head, which turned into slits on the outside of the walls.

It was stuffy and full of cobwebs.

In one corner there was a recess dug in the thickness of the wall. A stone resting on the shelf of the niche had some letters engraved on it, perhaps the initials of someone who had been there. The prince picked it up to see if there was something hiding underneath, but only a small black scorpion came out with its tail raised as a sign of clear threat. The child instinctively withdrew, and the scorpion disappeared quickly up the wall.

The prince went back down and closed the trap door. As he approached the window, he saw that someone was crossing the bridge and heading towards the city.

He too wished he had the courage to do it; introduce himself to his father and tell him: “ put me in prison but keep me with you.”

But he was sure that the king would immediately send him home without even listening to him.

He would stay there. He would lock the tower from the inside, hide the horse in the nearby shed, and no one would notice his presence.

He could stay a few days and then ...

No, it was too risky. He absolutely had to cross the border that night.

He began to fear being there alone, but he also feared coming out into the open.

He curled up in a corner and covered himself with the blanket. He tried to read a few pages and eat a piece of bread.

After a few minutes, he had fallen deep asleep.

He woke up by late afternoon and he heard many excited voices talking under the tower.

He looked cautiously and immediately withdrew, flattening himself frightened against the wall beside the window.

His father was down there.

He hurriedly left the room, taking refuge upstairs. He closed the trapdoor and sat down, heart pounding, in the darkest corner. He wished he was as small as the scorpion he had discovered under the stone of the niche. A few minutes later, he heard the king's steps up the stairs and his voice calling him.

His voice did not sound irritated, but he was not going to answer.

Perhaps they would be convinced that he had stopped there for a while and then walked away up the mountain. It was his only hope.

His father opened the trapdoor and went upstairs.

He hid his head in his arms, curling up even more in the dark.

The king knelt beside him and took him in his arms.

"Here you are you little devil!" He exclaimed.

He did not dare look up and felt his head explode as if a hammer pounded inside his brain every second that passed.

"You are not answering me?" The king asked again.

His hands around his knees clenched convulsively, turning purple in an effort to resist his father’s hands that tried to pry them loose.

“ Do you want to stay here a little while longer? Do you want me to come back down and wait for you to calm down and talk to me man to man?”

He nodded affirmatively.

The king got up and left him alone.

After a few minutes, the prince decided to go down to face him: he would not return to the castle, he would rather throw himself into the river.

His father was at the foot of the ladder still leaning against the trapdoor.

“ Father “ said the child, trying to keep his voice steady “ put me in prison for the rest of my life and have me whipped if you want, but don't send me back to the castle. Please.”

“ Why did you run away? Where did you think you were going? “ asked the king.

“ Past the border.”

“And what would you have done?”