A Slice of the Past

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The Royal Palace of Astria, 1638

 

 “Your Highness, get away from your mother’s room!” his nurse cried and shooed him down the corridor. The little boy desperately ran away from her clutching fingers, flying down the hall at an impossible speed. The royal blood flowing through his veins made him more skilled than the young female, even at his young age.

            In the end, the nurse ordered three of the knights to catch him before he got to the front entrance. They managed to corner him in the Great Hall.

            “Come now, my Prince, it’s time for you to go to bed,” the one holding his arm chuckled before the three hefted him up into the air. They marched down the halls of the castle, passing curious servants, and dumped the young boy in his room.

            He ran to the door as soon as it closed and desperately tried to yank it open. But their head sorcerer had locked it on the outside and made it impossible to get out from within.

            The young boy cursed loudly- something he’d heard the kitchen staff say a few times- and flopped to the ground on the antic rug.

            The room was painted pale blue and decorated in dark mahogany. It didn’t look like it belonged to a young boy. All of the accents and features were old and heritage, and the centerpiece was a floor-to-ceiling painting of his parents.

            His eyes fluttered slightly, but he jerked himself awake. Even from his bedroom, he could hear his mother’s cries. He was desperate to get to her and take her away from all the healers. They had to be hurting her.

            But he was confined in his room.

Crown Prince Christopher Nyx of Astria had been stuck in the bedroom for over four hours. The screaming never stopped the whole time, so even though it was the middle of the night he couldn’t sleep. He just stared at the painting.

            At one o’clock in the morning, the King himself walked into the room with a gentle smile on his face.

            “Hello son.”

            “Father.”

            He sat down next to the young boy and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know how you feel- it is killing me too. Not being there for her.”

            “Why is Mother sick? What is wrong with her? Will she be okay?” he fired the questions quickly, and before his father could reply to any of them.

            “Your mother will be fine,” was the king’s reply. “She is a very strong vampire and a very strong woman. And the healers will take care of her.”

            “But Father, she is crying and screaming!”

            “Soon, she shall be fine my son. Come and let us play a game to fast the time.”

            The King pulled an old chess set out from behind him and set it up between them on the floor. It was made of soft wood and more detailed than anything the young prince had ever seen. He picked up the knight to get a closer look, his green eyes wide in amazement.

            “Now, let me teach you.”

They played chess until the sun came up, peeking through the crakes of the prince’s curtains. The boy had fallen asleep in his father’s arms eventually, and had woken up in his bed with the light crossed in face. It took a few seconds for him to register his surroundings, and when he did he jumped up and ran to the door. With one small push it opened, proving that the sorcerer had lifted the spell, and he sprinted down the corridor.

He slammed the door to his mother’s room open and looked around frantically.

“Ah Christopher, I see you have finally woken up,” her soft voice said from the bed. The young boy ran over and jumped on top of her, hugging her like she was about to disappear. “Careful, dear, I’m still a bit sore.”

“What happened to you Mother?” he cried as he loosened his hold. “You were crying and screaming and sounded like you were in so much pain!”

“I’m fine, my love. Now look at me.” Her voice was sterner than before. “I’d like you to meet someone.”

The boy frowned. “Who?”

His mother, the Queen of the kingdom, waved her hand. A young woman waltzed over with a bundle in her arms. The boy peered down to see a baby nestled in the blankets, their eyes closed and their hand in their mouth.

“Why are you showing me that?” he asked, confused.

That, my darling Christopher, is your little brother Jonathan.”

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