In The East. Maria Pia Oelker

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СКАЧАТЬ expression of interest and love.

      He did not miss anything; that is what he stated proudly and annoyed to those who pointed out to him that life could not be enjoyed entirely by being permanently closed between four walls, even if luxurious.

      But it was almost painfully conscious that his wife and son lacked the truest and beautiful thing: freedom. To come and go, to meet new people, perhaps met by chance on the road, to do or not do what he thought was good and right for them.

      And he felt more guilt towards his son, who was growing up like a greenhouse flower, than he did towards his delicate queen, who had freely accepted that kind of life, only for his sake. Perfect, splendid in his shape and minimal nuances of color, but without any scent, without that complex vitality that animates the flowers of the field and wild herbs, as well as certain children of the people, whom he had come to know and meet in his travels , during his long hunting days or in the properties he owned.

      The prince was as beautiful and fragile as a jewel, his delicate features like those of his mother, his young legs long and slender like those of a purebred colt, his hands still small but strong and elegant. The eyes alone, dark and deep, so strange and disturbing in their exuberant rebel force in that clear childish face showed that he had inherited something from his father’s character, despite all the possible interventions, the continuous "attempts" to counterbalance it, shape it, smooth it. He was to be educated according to the firm and precise suggestions of the king.

      He fully understood it now and was not entirely sorry. In fact, he had to admit that he was proud of it.

      " I should talk about it with his teacher, but I won't. By God, I'm glad my son has some of my traits at least. Even though one day he may free himself, as indeed I myself did with my father.”

      He felt that after all this he could stand it, because now he knew that his son sincerely loved him and would always love him.

      "So, father?" The prince said.

      " What?”

      " The mysterious country behind the mountains.”

      " Yes, you don't forget, do you?”

      " No, I'm waiting for an answer.”

      " I told you: I've never been there personally. But someone who has seen it told me that far beyond the mountains there is a beautiful kingdom rich in water and fragrant pastures, with tall houses with red towers like fire in the sunset and silver domes like the light of the moon which so fascinates you. In spring, the valleys are covered with flowers and in autumn the leaves of the plants are the color of the sun. However, to be honest, I don't think it's really the country you're looking for. Perhaps it does not exist here on earth. Many books of ancient travelers speak of the rising of the sun and the moon to the east, ever further to the east. There is no resting point for them.”

      " So, are the things the master explained to me the truth, and not my mother’s and Antonia’s tales?”

      "That is what I think," the king smiled.

      " Too bad " the little prince breathed unnoticeably " the contrary would have been much better.”

      " I cannot believe it! " laughed his father noisily" A poet: I created a poet. Unbelievable. Hey! " he called near him his most trusted friends who, not far from there, were arranging their weapons and mounts, peeking from time to time at their friend and gentleman wasting time arguing with a child. " Hey, friends, listen to this: my son has the soul of a dreamer, of a poet. He sighs to the moon and conjures up fairytale countries. That’s wonderful, don’t you agree?”

      Again, he laughed in a sarcastic not held back tone.

      His son felt wounded and blushed violently. His eyes darkened completely, lighting up with a strange light, like the sulfurous glow of a flash.

      "Father," he said in a firm, almost severe voice, "you don't need to bother showing me those books you are speaking of; I don't think I need it. I prefer my dreams.”

      The king fell silent suddenly and he too became red in the forehead and on his pronounced cheekbones. He did not reply to the prince, who had already turned his back on him, and merely waved his advisers away.

      Everyone present, no one excluded, shook, and wondered why their lord did not whip that spoiled child, who had dared to reply so boldly, with a challenging attitude.

      But in the evening the king, before retiring for the night, went to his son's tent and, after sending away his two servants, sat down beside him, shaking his hand without speaking.

      "I'm sorry, father," said the little boy. "I know I would deserve a punishment for what I said. My teacher punishes me for a lot less, but you didn't have to laugh at me like that. You hurt me right here " he touched his thin panting chest " so strongly that I felt like crashing, like a tree in a storm.”

      His eyes shone and it was not clear whether he was holding back tears or a new outburst of indignation.

      " Excuse me, son. I'm a bit of a rough warrior sometimes, but I didn't want to offend you. I have nothing against poetry and your mother loves it as much as she loves you and I chose her as queen; don’t think I love you any less because of this.”

      " I was afraid you would not love me anymore.”

      "Nonsense," the king said bluntly.

      " So, can you forgive me?”

      " Sure, in fact I came to tell you a fairy tale.”

      " Do you also know the fantastic stories that Antonia tells me? With the dragons and the knights and the fairies of the fairies?”

      " No, I don't remember those anymore. It's been a long time since my nurse told me on winter nights by the fireplace to quiet me down. But there is a beautiful story that is true and sounds like a fairy tale and that is the one I would like to tell you.”

      The prince nodded and his father, in an uncertain voice at first, then gradually more and more confident and casual, told him of the wonderful adventures of an ancient Venetian traveler, of his extraordinary discoveries and of the great, incredible kingdom of Khan, where everything seemed enchanted, where the flowers were as fragile as porcelain and their colors as delicate as butterfly wings, where everything seemed to move with the grace of bird flights and give off the intense and exciting, soft and penetrating scent of the rarest spices and herbs . In that distant kingdom where Marco Polo had stayed for so long to be able to tell tales of a thousand incredible inventions and the even stranger life of that people, perhaps could have been the land of the sun and the moon.

      " There is a country in the East of the Indies that they call the Rising Sun Earth. Maybe that's what you're looking for. We could go together one day," he said finally.

      " Father, it is not necessary for you to lie to please me. You said yourself that no traveler has ever seen it.”

      "Yes, sorry again, I didn't really believe that as a child you would be so wise. But did you like my story?”

      " Very much, thank you.”

      " Do you want to give me a kiss then and make peace?”

      " Yes, father.”

      The king smiled and, that night, for the first time in his life, he went to sleep fully satisfied СКАЧАТЬ