The Last One

There was once a story about how a great battle was won.

The battle was about how a knight killed a big bad dragon who breathes ugly flames of fire unto people to keep a princess locked in it’s tower.

I was one of those brave knights. But instead of fighting off the dragon, I walked on what feels like an eternity of underground tunnels and saved my princess. Eversince that salvation day, we could’ve easily lived our happily ever after – me and the princess, I mean – at least it’s how the story would end, the monks told me. But instead, it was a kind of a horrible life in itself.

What the monks didn’t know (and that is why they never told anyone anyway) is that my Princess is a bit of a sensitive (or just lonely, I don’t know) person herself – partially because she’s been alone far too long on the tower, partially because she’s been lied to by someone else before I came to rescue her.

That “someone else” happened to be my arch nemesis eversince we were kids, called “ex-boyfriend”.

Ex-boyfriend caused a lot of trouble to my Princess. He would break her heart. He would claim to love her all his life and promised that he would never dare leave her when all he do was flee. He had violated her trust, her body, and worst of all: her soul. And after he’s done taking the precious gems she’s had, he would tore her apart, and leave her again on her own. The only thing he saved for her is her dear life; and maybe her last shred of dignity.

One day, I, the brave knight, went home a little bit grouchy from a stressful day of work at the glorious battle grounds; planning on weaponry for war. And as the sensitive Princess she was, she hoped for me to give her the last good amount of attention I have when all I want is to get some rest. Therefore, we get into a big fight that night.

...

“Can I not get your attention after a long day of not seeing you, love?” She asked me, rather demanding.

“I am being attentive, am I not?”

“Rule number one on treating your princess slash wife: no rhetorical questions regarding to her statements, especially when she requires more than just a yes/no answer. Two...”

“Babe, seriously. I’m not in the mood for your lectures. I’ve had a rough day,” I interrupted.

“Yeah, of course, right. Bad day, hard day. Whatever. I’m the insesntive one. Of course. You are never wrong? No. I’m just so done with you.”

“You know what, maybe I was wrong for taking this decision of marrying you, the insensitive Princess. Maybe it was right to leave you all lonely with just the memory of his arch nemesis to accompany her” I said.

She glares at me for a while, her facial expressions flat.

“If I had a choice of saving another princess in the same tower, if there was any other princess, knowing the evil that you are today, I would have chosen her. I was wrong to think that you were different – that you wouldn’t demand anything of me but my salvage; my protection from the enemies. It was wrong, wasn’t it? I WASN’T ENOUGH OF ANYTHING FOR YOU!” My voice louder than I expected it to be; my anger rise and rise.

“No, you weren’t wrong,” she says quietly. “I demanded too much of you, my knight” She admitted.

But she broke into tears, running down a hallway so that I couldn’t catch up to her. She locked herself somewhere in the tallest tower, only with limited food and fresh water. That was when I knew I couldn’t take back my words – that I have broke her heart the same way my nemesis did to her; the same way I promised to not do to her.

I didn’t realise she kept all her demands in a delightful way all along that I played with it – that I took her care for granted.

...

On the third day after our great fight she finally came down.

For those three days I couldn’t get any sleep – I was worried. I couldn’t focus on strategy building for the war; I couldn’t do anything right that my advisors thought I was sick. But no, I wasn’t. My mind was too full of her. And for those three days as well I promised myself to reconcile with her and ask for her forgiveness.

So when she finally came across the huge hallway towards our room (by imminent coincidence), I walked towards her from the opposite direction.

Not for even once she looked at me as soon she senses someone else’s presence in the hallway – and while my boots didn’t echo as badly as the soldier’s shoes did, she must’ve known that it was no one else but me. She was wary of me, of course; but I was terrified of myself more than she could ever be of me. But I just have got to say sorry; I loved her. And besides, it wouldn’t be completely rational to be at war with your own love of life while at the same time you are planning a war outside your castle.

She stopped when she heard my footsteps stopped, just a few inches away from each other. She didn’t try to run away. We stayed there, she’s still not looking at me and me not saying anything. What the hell have I done, that my very own Princess wasn’t even brave enough to look at me in the eye? Me, his predestined Prince? It was then I realized I’ve broke her heart so badly that I wasn’t even sure it could heal. I run my hands down her arms unto her palms and laced my fingers on hers. I almost leaped for joy when I realised she didn’t flinch. She finally looked at me when our fingers laced; but I do not dare bet a guess what her look means. I saw her cheeks still wet of tears.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I am such a hurtful man. I am a bad person”

She didn’t answer me; but her eyes still secured on mine, full of hope.

“Your heart is broken; but I am willing to bet that I am going to mend it some way, relationship-wise with you,” I let silence fall before proceeding. “Do you think you can forgive me?”

“I don’t know if I can trust you, even if I did forgive you,” she says, really quietly.

“You see, that is exactly why I needed you to trust me,” I say gently, moving my hand to her left cheek. “I already have a plan in mind, and it involves us in order to make it.”

“What plan?” She asks, blinking tears away from her beautiful dark brown eyes.

“I wanted this fight to be the last one; this one of me not respecting anything you’ve given me,” I confirmed. “I will make a positive progress on spending more time on us. Should I ask for permission?”

“No, you know you have it already,” she says.

She smiles ever so beautifully and she presses her head unto my hand, fitting her small palms under mine to make sure it doesn’t fall away.

And as for once, I found out that the monks were right about a happily ever after. But I would add a little to the phrase to it: “it doesn’t come without war”. –red