Chapter V

The Duty of Soryne

The next day at about lunchtime, Soryne left the temple; she had just finished her morning prayers, and was about to go back to the palace for a light meal before she resumed them. The path was just as pleasant as usual, the myrtle speckled with blue blossoms, but Soryne felt as if a thundercloud loomed over her.

Epnotides’ confrontation bothered her without ceasing. There was no relief whatsoever from the ever-present words that he spoke to her the night before: “Surely the gods have placed you here in order to aid my situation!”

The statement was strange to her, even though the overwhelming emotion that she felt was fear; the prince seemed slightly naive about the whole affair, as if he did not know how the real world worked. Soryne knew, having studied extensively with Doxa, the muse of history, that death was not something that one could escape; and it was not something to fear when you would be remembered like the king was. Surely his story would reach far audiences and his tapestry would be hung forever.

But did the prince not know this?

“He has been at war ten years; surely he does,” Soryne grumbled, and knew not what to think next.

She had not been walking long, and passed an entrance to a broader set of gardens that streamed with greenery and sunshine. Soryne paused for a moment, looking out to where, just between two fig trees, she could see the ocean. Its deep blue depths were picturesque and slightly calming; Soryne wondered if she should perhaps skip lunch and instead go for a long and much-needed walk.

“My lady!”

Soryne whipped her head to the direction of the castle, and she saw that Prince Epnotides was running towards her. He stopped when he was about ten feet away from her, and rested his hands on his knees while he caught his breath. Soryne looked around and wished that he was speaking to someone else. Alas, there was nobody else around.

“I’m sorry to meet you in such a way,” he said when he had rested enough. “I knew that I might meet you close by the temple. Might we go this way?”

He took Soryne’s elbow and steered her into the gardens without an answer. Soryne managed to shrug him off so that she could walk on her own, but not without assuring him that she was coming.

Prince Epnotides gestured for her to follow him whilst looking around, as if somebody might be stalking them. After they had wound through the paths for a few minutes, the prince stopped.

“I must tell you that the situation regarding my father–”

Soryne groaned. “You must not bring that up anymore! Don’t you realize that this and our conversation last night gives me perfect clearance to alert people to the scandal?”

Prince Epnotides waved this away without hesitation. “This is a lot worse than you realize, my lady. Your friend is being employed by my mother to do the deed herself.”

Soryne looked up at him suddenly. “My friend?” She mumbled, sorting through her short list of those.

“Yes,” Prince Epnotides said, crossing his arms. “I don’t know her name. She’s the oldest one.”

“Fornia,” Soryne realized, and then urged the prince to go on and tell all; he did with no delay.

When the story was done, Soryne could only stand still in amazement while Prince Epnotides raved on.

“I didn’t know that my mother planned on doing it herself, and I certainly didn’t know that it was because of Imenrys. I was just a child then! How could I have known? How could he–” the prince stopped suddenly, letting his head fall into his hands. Soryne suddenly felt very awkward, and took a step back to inspect the neighboring rose bush. However, she kept the prince in her periphery, and he slowly recanted from where he had been about to weep before.

“No. I understand why he had to do it. The war was terrible, and if I could have done anything to make it shorter I would have. But my own sister…” Prince Epnotides began pacing up and down the short stretch of pathway they stood on. As he did, Soryne looked away quickly, busying herself with popping the thorns off the stems of the bush. Still the prince continued.

“You must help me, don’t you see?” He turned to Soryne quickly, holding out his hands as he pleaded with her. “You have the wisdom of the gods on your side. I cannot let my mother murder my father! He is the king!” He kept his voice low so as not to betray them, but the quietness touched Soryne’s heart more than any fierce yelling could. Still her heart was hard, and it would take more than tender words to soften it. However, she was not without feeling for those she knew.

“My duty is not to the king, nor to the people of this land,” said Soryne slowly. “But my duty is to the gods, and they order us to do what is right.”

Prince Epnotides sighed and his stature loosened. Soryne held up her hand, indicating that she was not finished.

“I cannot sit still while wicked things are done; these things defy the gods’ will and only more misery will come from it. I will help you, though I know not how. Except–” Soryne looked at the prince fiercely, her eyes digging deep into his suddenly fearful expression– “I do this not for you, nor your father, and especially not because he is king. I do this for Fornia, because she has been kind to me. I do not forget a good deed quickly.”

The prince did not seem as though he cared whether or not she did it for him or for Fornia; he only fell to his knees and began to thank her repeatedly.

“Stand up, please,” Soryne grumbled, and turned away from him as he clumsily rose from the ground.

“What are you doing here?” Asked a pleasant voice just then, and both the prince and Soryne turned to see Thysia skipping down the path. “I did not expect to meet you both here,” she added, laughing.

Soryne had nothing to say; she could only pray that Thysia had heard nothing that the prince had said.

“Do you like the gardens?” Thysia asked Prince Epnotides, and began to introduce him to the various kinds of flowers beside the path, telling him silly stories about how they were named.

Soryne took a deep, trembling breath and walked to a balcony; she looked down to where the waves dashed against the rocks below. The constant sound eased her mind a bit, and she leaned her elbows against the stones and sighed.

“What is this, brother?” Said another voice, and Soryne looked over her shoulder. It was Princess Kechria. Soryne hastily offered a curtsy, but the princess did not act like she noticed her. “This is a wonderful party, and I hate to break it up; but our mother would speak to us together in her chambers.”

Soryne could not be more grateful that Thysia had arrived just moments before; that had saved them a good deal of explanation.

The prince excused himself and left with his sister. As they walked, the princess clicked her tongue.

“You really ought to have more tact about that sort of thing, brother,” she told him.

Prince Epnotides started frightfully and stuttered, “W-what?”

The princess laughed. “Just because you’ve been away at war for ten years does not mean that you need to fall in love with the first woman you lay eyes on. I saw you last night at dinner, too.”

Prince Epnotides let out a sigh, but covered it up with a chuckle. “Oh.” She must have been talking about Soryne. “We’re just friends, I promise,” he added.

His sister pressed a hand to her temple and smiled. Prince Epnotides felt his heart nearly beating out of his chest because of the start she just gave him.

“I’ll pretend that I believe you, for your sake.” She laughed. “But really, Epnotides? Red hair?”

The prince looked up suddenly. Soryne had dark hair; who was she speaking of?

He let out a heavy breath full of relief. Thysia. Wasn’t that her name?

They spoke no more as they walked, but the prince was frightened of his sister’s intelligence nonetheless. The worry that she would discover his secret began to nag him in the back of his head like a barnacle on a ship at sea.