(English!) The Rose and The Bleeding Stag

A Heart in a Cage

A Heart in a Cage

England 865 A.D.,

Kingdom of Northumbria

"I am honoured to have you as a guest, King Edmund. I am sure that your stay will be as pleasant as the summer sun, and I hope the princess has made a good trip. " The room was cold, although fires were lit early in the morning to warm it up, in view of the arrival of King Edmund and his daughter, Hella. A princess of rare beauty and intelligence: that's how they all described it. Not that Harold cared much: he would still have to fulfil his duties as a king-to-be, and seal that union with a sumptuous marriage and, it was hoped, even a son. The idea of a marriage was definitely not the most exciting thing in the world, for him, let alone that of a son, especially at that time. But he was still a prince, and all he had to do, at that moment, was obey his father's orders. Yes, his father... when he warned his voice in the lobby, he understood that they would soon arrive in the main hall, and he decided to get up from his chair, reuniting at best, and trying to put on one of his best smiles. The hall was a huge reflection of the richness of his father's reign: large, with a high ceiling and decorated with gilded cornice, and wide windows that overlooked both the city of York and the green fields surrounding it. Harold often gazed at those fields, wondering what the taste of freedom was, the thing he craved the most in the world. On the contrary to what one would expect of a prince, he had never had any ambition in power: it was not his characteristic, that of having great pretensions on a kingdom, let alone the expansion of it. Different were his father's ideas, so different that he had organized that meeting in mind of the clear expansionist aims. He obviously knew that an agreement with King Edmund was the key to making demands on the kingdom of Mercia, and what better arrangement than a marriage between the two heirs to the thrones? Both young, beautiful, in their best years and with a radiant future ahead. These were the words with which his guardian, the monk Æthelbert had posed the matter to Harold, but everything he saw in that situation was a prison. A golden prison, of course, made of lands, castles, delicious food, gold and women, but still a prison. And Harold was more than convinced that it wasn't exactly what he wanted for his future. He could not shirr his father's will, he could not escape his responsibilities, but all this did not forbid his thought to soar in the air as if it were a swallow, eager to explore worlds that went beyond that of the court within which he had grown up. He loved his land, he loved his people, of course, he could not deny it to himself, but he felt trapped. He had often looked towards the sea, during the long rides on the beaches, wondering how far that blue expanse extended, and what the horizon hid, from what it separated him, as if it was the limit of his freedom.

He had always been very good at getting lost in that kind of thinking, so good that he did not to notice, very often, what was happening around him: and it was exactly what had happened, in that moment. William had to recall him to reality, with a slight blow on his elbow, and only then did he realize he was in the presence of his father, King Edward, King Edmund and his daughter, the famous Hella, of whom he had so much heard of in recent times.
"And that, is my young heir, Harold. I hope you heard good things about him! "sentenced his father, trying, in his own way, to pull his praises. King Edmund seemed to support his game: "But of course, naturally. His fame as a leader is great, His Majesty, and the boy receives praise for his infinite beauty and kingship. Which seems to me to be confirmed, isn't it, dear? " He turned to his daughter, who from the moment she had entered had not detached her eyes from Harold even for a second.
"Certainly, father, the prince corresponds in everything to the description that ladies and Knights have done at our court, and my honour in being chosen as his consort could not be greater."

Harold restrained himself from swirling his eyes to the sky: all those fine words, all that continual and senseless false courtesy almost made him nauseous. However, it was not in his nature to be rude, especially with women, and certainly he would not have taken from his own principles with the one who was to become his wife, and for this reason he decided to speak, proffering a slight bow before the Princess and her father.