The Sugilite Prince

Sugi was relieved to be home. Although he wouldn’t admit it, he was pleased to be back in his huge, comfortable bed. With warmth in his heart, he remembered his mother’s insightful words. After eating, he bathed languorously, letting the warm water soothe his tired body till he longed for his soft sheets and pillow. He laid there waiting for sleep to overtake him, but his mind was full of thoughts. The uneasy feeling remained, even after making his choice.

He wondered again, ’should I leave Jimon? What do I really want? Maybe I should just be locked up in this castle, hiding my face from the world. Is that what is best for everyone? Do I deserve to be punished? Maeve certainly thought so, or she wouldn’t have done this to me.′

After his own needs were taken care of, Jimon knocked softly at the door. He didn’t want to disturb the prince, but after Jeon had thanked him for bringing Sugi back, the suspicious guard had questioned him about Sugi’s intentions. Jimon told him it would be best if he asked Sugi directly, as it was not his place to say.

“Who is it?” Sugi asked.

“It’s me, Jimon.”

“Come in.”

A smile graced Sugi’s lips when he saw Jimon and he couldn’t help smiling back at him.

“Oh, you’re resting. I’m sorry to disturb you.”

“No. I’m glad you’re here. Come,” he said padding the bed next to him. “Will you lay down next to me. I don’t want to be alone.”

Jimon laid down next to the prince. They faced each other as Sugi brushed a stray hair away from Jimon’s eyes. “How are you?”

“Me, I’m okay,” he smiled. “I’m glad you came back with me. When I couldn’t find you, I felt so lost. Please don’t leave me.”

“Oh, Jimon. I don’t want to.”

Sugi moved closer as Jimon put his arm around the prince. He leaned in and kissed Jimon gently on the lips. His half-lidded eyes gazing lovingly at him. Sugi snuggled into his chest closing his eyes and said, “Jimon.”

“Yes?”

“I think I love you.”

Across the ancient stone bridge, she ran, seeking refuge at the village church, the only sanctuary that she could think of. Surely there the angry mob would not dare to hurt a pregnant woman. The sweat trickled down her brow as she tried to catch her breath.

She came to the door of the old building and found it closed. In desperation, she ran around the hallowed church searching for a way into the sanctuary. Even here, she felt rejected.

Her mother had left after finding out she was pregnant. Angry that her daughter was too headstrong to reveal who the father was. She begged her to come with her and start a new life somewhere new, but Maeve didn’t want to leave the place she had felt at home her whole life. She reasoned with her mother that someone had to take care of the blind grandmother. She could not hide her dismay. Who would take care of her with a baby on the way?

That’s how she had ended up in this mess. She had gone into town to find supplies for her baby and to help her grandmother that was too old to take the journey into town. With a hooded cloak over her head, she thought no one would recognize her, but old fears die hard in this place of anxiety and superstition. Hiding her face just made people fear her more. They whispered to each other their suspicions becoming more alarmed as the word spread quickly. As evening fell, the crowd had grown in size ready to rid themselves of the hated witch.

Through the heathen wood, the angry mob chased her. If they only knew, she cared naught for herself, but for the precious child, she carried. The howl of the dogs pierced the night as a light came on inside the church. The door swung open to reveal an elderly woman holding a candle with frail, veiny hands. Her small eyes peered at her seeing the fear in the young woman. The old hag looked as much a witch as her loving grandmother so it didn’t frighten her.

“Come in quickly,” she said pulling Maeve in and snuffing out the candle.

The group of villagers that were chasing her went by continuing their search. She feared that they would go to the castle and demand that the guards find her, but at least for now, she was safe.

“Oh, dear,” the old woman said with a tsk-tsk to her tone. “Follow me.”

“Thank you for helping me,” Maeve managed shaking in fear.

“I don’t care what you may or may not have done. My lord teaches me to be forgiving of others. It’s not my place to hold judgment, but to give help when help is needed.”

Maeve nodded knowing her own vindictive nature had gotten her into this mess.

She thinks, “If only I could have been more forgiving, maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess. I wanted everything from him, his attention, understanding, and unconditional love. I couldn’t just accept what he could give me. I was crazy to think a prince could want me. After I stopped feeling sorry for myself, I felt awful for the curse I gave him. Once you do that, the curse loses its power. The only power the curse had after that was the one people gave it by believing in it. I should have gone and told him it was over, but my fear stopped me. Especially, when I realized I was pregnant. He would surely take my baby from me and maybe even kill it as revenge for what I had done.”