Princess Sharima was sitting alone in the dark. She didn’t bother lighting up the chamber. The royal chamber was big and luxurious, with wooden cabinets along the walls wherein her beautiful dresses and gowns kept neatly. The room was filled with decorative objects from paintings to statuettes to vases. There were three tall windows which she let wide open so that the moonlight gave the room a dim, relaxing atmosphere. The night was cold and the breeze chilled the bone and Sharima wrapped her body with a blanket. Several times she covered her mouth with a handkerchief, coughing hard.
She got off her bed and walked towards the windows. It was almost midnight; however she was still wearing her complete dress and make up. She looked down and saw some soldiers walked under her windows. The change of shifts for the night guards was precisely done at midnight. She closed all the windows, lighted the room and changed her dress to nightgown. She wiped her make ups, cleaned herself and went to bed. She closed her eyes and waited for sleep. A drop of tears escaped her eyelids and fell on the pillow.
Prince Paku Bhuwana walked along the corridor of his mansion. He had darker hair and eyes compared to his two younger brothers. His eyebrows were thick and he kept his beard neatly trimmed. He let his long curly hair loose touching his shoulders. His face was dark with anger and dissatisfaction, totally in contrast with his charming dress and glittering crown. As he walked down the corridor, some servants fled away in fear. They had learned that it was the best way to escape his wrath.
“Sharima!!!” He opened a door to a big room and found out that it was empty. He kicked the door and left the room.
He continued walking. In his right hand he clutched a piece of paper.
“Sharima!!!” He shouted again, louder.
“Don’t I deserve respect in my own mansion?” He mumbled the words, still looking around for his wife.
As he made a turn towards his bedroom, suddenly he heard soft footsteps behind him. He recognized the sound and quickly turned around to see. There, he saw Sharima standing, smiling at him. She bowed to him.
“Your Majesty has returned.” She said slowly.
Her voice was soft and her melancholic face looked terribly pale. She took his hand and kissed it. She looked at him and smiled. It melted half of his anger.
“I expect my wife to greet me when I come home.” He said firmly, but not as loud as before.
Sharima bowed once more. “Please forgive my ignorance, Your Majesty.”
Paku sighed deeply. He needed to exercise his patience with this woman. He didn’t have enough sleep the night before. At time like this, anger seemed to get to him much easier.
“Where.. were.. you ?” He said real slowly, stressing every syllable to show her how mad he was.
Sharima understood well. She didn’t dare to look at his eyes anymore. She looked down at the floor.
“In the kitchen, Sire.”
Her answer was enough to make him explode.
“In the kitchen?” He shouted.
“In the kitchen? Who do you think you are? Have you no respect for your husband anymore?”
Sharima stood like a statue. She knew he was tired and she knew she had answered him with wrong choice of words. Paku stood in front of her, so close, so tall, so strong, and so menacing.
“Do you forget who you are? Do you forget who I am? What pray tell a Princess was doing in the kitchen? ANSWER ME!!!”
Sharima paid her respect. She bowed and crossed her arms in front of her chest as a sign of acceptance.
“Please don’t be mad, Sire. I of course remember who I am. I’m your wife. And you are the heir of Genta Bhuwana. Your Majesty, cooking for a woman is like fighting in a battle for a man. Will you give your sword to other person in a battle, Sire? Even to your most trusted general? It is the same with me. I will not give my recipe to any other person, not even to the palace cook.”
Paku looked at her in disbelief, though he didn’t say anything.
“Your Majesty, every morning I make your favorite chicken soup for breakfast. I make lunch for you and at dinnertime I cook tofu soup that you always like. I do it everyday, whether you will come back home or not. All I want is to be ready whenever you come home.”
Once again Paku’s anger melted away, hearing the loyalty of the petite pale-faced woman standing in front of him. The woman he once loved so deeply. He then decided to drop the case.
“I’m going to clean myself, and after that I will eat the chicken soup.” He said coldly.
Sharima bowed and walked quickly ahead of him. Paku walked slower behind her. He knew that Sharima never let any maiden prepare his bath. It was one thing she especially requested when they got married. She would not allow any chambermaids prepare his clothes either. She would take care of everything from soap to fragrance, from comb to headdress. And Paku had agreed on her terms. As the matter of fact, he had accepted it with gladness, for he loved woman who bowed and served him with not only loyalty, but also with love.
However, love was not forever. And now, although he was reluctant to have her prepare his bath, he had not the heart to tell her so. True, his love towards her had gone away, yet something in his heart kept telling him that she was the only person worth to be his Queen. Among his 15 mistresses, he had not found one who could match her beauty and warmth. While in terms of intelligence and loyalty, they were like children compare to her. That was why he kept her still.
Paku sat on the bed, unbuttoning his robe. He could hear Sharima coughing. He noticed that she had started to have the cough around 6 months after the tragedy five years ago. Many healers had been called to cure her, but it seemed she was getting worse and worse every year. It was exactly five years ago that he lost his love for her. Paku winced hearing the coughing again. He pitied her. Hell, that was all that was left in his heart for her. Pity. He shook away the memory of the tragedy out of his head. Paku understood that the reason he hardly came home to her was because of the memory of the tragedy. Every time he looked into her eyes, or heard her voice, the memory came rushing back. And he would get sad, and angry at the same time. Then they would fight, and he would hit her before leaving. It was like a blind curve. It was a bad luck. No, she was a bad luck.
Paku ate his soup quietly, trying to ignore Sharima who was seating in front of him. He had taken his bath and had changed his robe. Sharima tried to make a conversation for several times, but it was in vain. It seemed to him that there was nothing they could communicate anymore.
“I’m sorry.” Sharima said almost to herself.
“What for! For the soup? For not being here when I came back? Those things, I can forgive you. Just don’t ask my forgiveness for Gadha.” Came his reply.
Sharima’s tears fell. She cried silently.
“Please forgive me. How long should I live in this misery, Your Highness? Please, I beg your forgiveness.”
Paku lost his temper so quickly. He pushed the bowl of soup in front of him and hit the table with the palm of his right hand. The sound was thunderous, but not as frightening as his voice.
“I will not forgive you, Sharima. Not today, not tomorrow, not in ten years, not in 100 years from now. I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!!! Which one of my words do you not understand? NEVER, Sharima. NEVER EVER.”
Sharima didn’t dare to look at him. He was now standing tall in front of her. His face turned darker and he seemed to be a little bit taller than usual. Or it was because she felt smaller in front of him. Yet she kept trying to defend her dignity. It had been 5 years since she lived in this hell and she had decided to get out.
“I did not kill Gadha. I did not kill our son. It was an accident. How can you blame this on me? How long will you keep me here as your prisoner of sorrow? I can’t take this anymore. I still have dignity, Paku.”
Paku went towards her and slapped her face hard. She fell down to the floor, crying. Paku went after her, grabbed her arm and pulled her to stand. Once she was standing he whispered in her ears:
“It’s Your Highness. You call me Your Highness. Once again you call me by my first name, I will throw you away from this place like a dog. Do you hear me, Sharima? Like a dog. Because I don’t care about your dignity, and I don’t want to hear you say anything about your dignity anymore. To me, you are a murderer and yes, you killed our son Gadha Bhuwana (The Hammer of the Earth). And yes, you will be my prisoner as long as I want you to be.”
He let go of her arm and she dropped to the floor. Sharima didn’t move an inch. She didn’t even try to get up. She could only cry. Paku’s anger seemed to be escalated above the seventh sky for after dropping her he kicked her with his left foot. Unsatisfied, he threw a chair upon her and threw another one to the corner of the room.
“Bitch!!” He cursed and left the room.
He walked fast passed the now empty corridors of his palace. He caught movements with the corner of his eyes as he passed. He knew they were the maids and servants fleeing from his wrath. He realized in the back of his mind that they must have had heard the noise he had made. Yet he knew one of them. He could recognize her footsteps among the others. She was not a servant, she was Lady Pitaloka, one of his mistresses. And suddenly his sharp ears recognized other familiar steps. They belonged to Kencana Wungu, yet another one of his harem. Those two Ladies were the most beautiful and his favorites. But the two of them had formed a close relationship with Sharima and that he didn’t like. He knew they were on their way to help her.
“Try me, you bitches.” He cursed under his breath. “I’ll make you two suffer as much tonight.”
He didn’t slow down his pace and went straight to the main hall. Suddenly the guards at the entrance opened the door and a messenger ran passed them. He saw him walking and quickly got down on his knees to pay his respect.
“Your Majesty, The King requires your presence in the Palace right now. There’s an urgent matter to be discussed. Genta Bhuwana is now on alert status.”
At the mention of the alert status, all the anger in his heart suddenly disappeared.
“What alert status?”
“Forgive me, Sire. His Majesty the King only instructed me to tell you as much.” He bowed his head.
Paku waved his hand. “Let’s go then.” He said.
When Paku entered the royal courtroom he saw almost all officer of high and important ranks were already there. His heart skipped a bit, wondering what this was all about. Although he had some suspicions in his mind that whatever this is must have related to the well being of his two brothers in Kandaka. He had once warned his father that King Kalingga was not a man to be trusted. The closer he was to his seat beside his father, the more he could observe the faces of the people. They were all so tense and some even looked stressed already. He tried to be as calm as he could. He paid his respect to the King and sat beside his father.
King Pilar Bhuwana quickly resumed the meeting once his son arrived at his side. In front of him was a soldier, tattered and torn and looked exhausted. He was one of General Arung Laga’s men who fled from the city of Kandaka. They were stationed near the gate of the city, to ensure the escape. They were not cowards, it was their task as scouts to make it to the border and report back to Genta Bhuwana whenever a problem aroused. It took them 10 days to get back to Genta Bhuwana.
“The city was besieged from all corners, Sire. It was burned afterwards. The last report from inside the city gate was that King Kalingga and his son Rashtu were murdered. Their Generals were killed and the remaining soldiers fled. Forgive me, Sire, I do not have the knowledge regarding Prince Banyu and Prince Wesi’s fate. I ran to the border as fast as I could, Sire, as not to be followed by Ghowa soldiers. However, I know that King Kalingga had sent some messengers to warn the neighboring kingdoms about Ghowa’s invasion plan.”
Paku closed his eyes and sighed. The news was even worse than what he had suspected.
“You’ve done the right thing, soldier. Now go and have your wounds tended.” The King said.
“No messenger from Kandaka arrived here, Father.” Paku reported.
“He is probably killed on the way here.” A General replied.
Then everybody started to think and discuss every option that they had concerning the invasion. The meeting didn’t stop until dusk. Paku who had not slept the night before began to feel the exhaustion sipping through his bones. It was almost 8 o’clock in the evening. The meeting so far had come up with a strategy to join forces with Palanagari. The old King Mahesa Lontar was too old to be involved with this affair. Besides, he had divided the land into 4 regions to be governed by his 4 children. Thus, Genta Bhuwana would send 4 envoys to each region. The envoys would leave in two days.
Finally the meeting finished and Paku hurriedly went back to his palace to rest. Yet, on the way, he realized that he wouldn’t find any rest there. So he turned to the Far Palace, a name for residences of Banyu and Wesi. There he could rest better. Tomorrow he would have to come up with some strategy or at least some ways to rescue his two brothers. Assuming they were still alive.
Paku closed his eyes and tried to sleep in one of the guest chamber in Wesi’s residence. Here he found no women at all. Wesi never kept any women. Hell, he didn’t even know if Wesi had interest in women at all. Yet tonight, he was thankful for his brother’s odd habit, because at time like this he really needed to be left alone.
“What a bad day.” He mumbled and fell fast asleep.
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Tale of Three Princes – Chapter 4