CHAPTER 23: "Her True Name"

ARI

Ari sat in shock. Prince Richard seemed equally as surprised, hand over his mouth as he sat back down on the bed next to her.

"You are a girl?" Prince Richard. "How did I not see this?"

"I thought you had," Ari responded.

"Jason... I... Your name is not Jason?"

"... Ari."

"Ari," the Prince repeated. He came in close and put a hand on her cheek. "It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Ari."

"I... does this change... anything?" Ari desperately asked. "Do you still...?"

The Prince sighed and he met her eyes. "I do not -- I do not believe it works that way. What I felt was... I had a different expectation of you."

"But I am the same!" Ari yelled, a little glossy-eyed. "I have not changed. Why should your heart?"

The Prince gulped a little, his eyes regretful. "I cannot decide what my heart wants, Jas -- Ari, you are fair, kind of heart, albeit a little obnoxious to battle with."

Ari feigned a weak smile.

"It is more complicated than you could ever know," the Prince told her, fingers rubbing the tension out of his temple. "I have tried... with girls, before. Many girls. At first, I thought it was simply because I had yet to find a pretty maiden. The age of betrothal is upon me, yet I have never found a suitable woman for me. I realized, perhaps a summer or two ago, that I cannot give love to a woman, not truly."

"I am the same!" Ari shouted again. "I am still Jason. I can still be Jason!"

"Ari, you are young, yes?" the Prince asked. "That is why it was so easy for you to perpetuate this facade. This... mask. Before long, your shoulders and hips will make the lie impossible to uphold. And when that time comes, there will be things that my heart does want... Things that you will not have."

Ari was numb, in the warm afterburn of a sting. Prince Richard was indeed her first love. She knew it. She had never loved anyone quite like him, not even other slave boys when she worked for Raster. "How long have you known," she asked the Prince, "that you were this way?"

He paused for a moment, watching rain pellets tap the window. "Do you remember the knight's boy I told you about, Tollin?"

"Yes."

"He was the first time I knew what love was, real love. Not that I do not feel for you. It's just... I am so sorry, my lady. I cannot love you the way you want me to. You must understand."

"Does your father know?" Ari asked.

"Gods no," Prince Richard sighed. "And he cannot. It is forbidden under the crown, under the Gods. He cannot know."

"Why is it forbidden?"

"The Gods created us men for women. But I suppose then, I am not a man."

The Prince was sorrowful, remorseful, but Ari felt he had nothing to be remorseful for.

"I--" Ari started, before she was interrupted by a knock on the wooden door.

"My Prince," said a Sister as she peeked her head into the room. "Your father would like you to be fitted for garments. For the Festival, My Prince."

"Of course," Richard said. "I shall come right away." He leaned in close to Ari and whispered, "It seems like we both have secrets to keep."

He rose from the bed and followed the Sister out the door, leaving Ari baffled and heartbroken.

SIR OLIVER

He saw the orc mashing a bucket of slop for the pigs by the barn on the east side of town. That was where Barnacle always went to hide. Sir Oliver interrupted the squish and squash with, "You. Orc."

Barnacle glanced up and gave the knight his signature yellow grin. He put the masher to rest in the bucket and greeted Sir Oliver. "My Knight, how be Ar-- How be Jason?"

Sir Oliver wasted no time. He came in close to Barnacle, pinching his pointed right ear. Barnacle winced in pain, asking, "Ahhh, why? What is it?"

"You know her name?" Sir Oliver asked, rather quietly, but just loud enough to be heard over the rain.

"Yes!"

"Why?!"

"She-- She told me! Stop!"

"I know it was you, you worm. Be gone from this castle, from my sight. Never speak to Ari again."

Sir Oliver released the orc's ear and shoved him towards the road, tipping over the bucket of slop in the process.

"I... I have no idea--" Barnacle started. "She told me. I did not even ask. She told me!"

"You have said and done enough," Sir Oliver growled. "Be gone. I have spared your life once. I will not this time. If my eyes ever find you again, so will my sword. Off."

Barnacle, looking frightened and sorrowful, hobbled off into the mud and out of sight. Sir Oliver only wished he had expelled the traitor sooner, and hoped that the creature had not informed Sir Galen of everything he knew. It was foolish of Sir Oliver to trust the orc, to put faith in the heart of his squire, but it would not happen again.

As he walked out into the dusk of the day, he donned his hood and contemplated how he might be able to confront Sir Galen without giving him the upper hand.