Fool's Gold

The moment was supposed to be glorious. Selene’s father had promised it would be, with all of the great lords gathered in one place. Hands came together in crackles of noise as the great hall filled with thunderous applause that grew louder the longer Adam knelt on the ground in front of the throne. But seeing him here, like this, was hardly the great victory that had been foretold. His head slowly rose from where it was bowed in supplication, and the corded tendons in his neck tightened as those green eyes met hers. Selene did not see a traitor. She only saw the boy that she grew up with.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

They were six, and green eyes flashed as Adam stuck his tongue out as he pulled ahead of Selene. They raced to be the first to the cook’s latest batch of pies. The stone was cold under her bare feet, and poorly stifled giggles swept through the hall as they ran as fast as they could. They flew side by side before anyone could catch them and end their fun.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Selene raised her hand, and silence rung out in the space so immediately that it left her breathless. It took her several moments to get her bearings again, but the oppressive quiet muffled her thoughts. Unable to find the words, or perhaps too much of a coward even now to speak to them, she simply waved a hand at the executioner standing at Adam’s side. She did not meet his gaze.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

She was thirteen, and kept her eyes fixed on the window, away from the men in the room. There was a single heron flying over the majestic lake. From Selene’s vantage point, it looked like it was about to fly straight into the sunset. The white feathers were cloaked in the beautiful reds and oranges of the setting sun, and she dug her nails into her palms, wishing that wings would sprout from her back and take her with the bird. Instead, her father continued to drone on about finding a suitable match, and how the long-honored tradition of union between two families must continue. How, because Adam was her friend, that meant she should be happy, even lucky, to marry him. Adam wasn’t moving beside her, and she did not look to see what he thought of this decision their fathers have made.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The sword fell, and the sharp cut it made through the air was halted by a sickening crunch as blade met bone. Red liquid spattered onto the floor and it pulled her gaze against her will. She did not look to the floor. She could not look at the body. Instead, her eyes caught on a fist clenched so tightly that she imagined she could see the white of bone beneath the taut skin stretched over knuckles. Selene’s eyes passed over the grey sleeve of a prisoner’s tunic and up to Adam’s collar, where a drop of blood had leapt from the gruesome act in front of him. Only then did she dare lift her eyes to find his green ones. Once familiar, they were now strange and unreadable. A perfect mask that his hands betray when they begin to shake with rage.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

For the first time in her sixteen years, Selene had taken a risk. She trembled in anticipation as soft lips brushed hers for the first time. The corners of her maid’s mouth curled upwards against hers briefly before she finally stopped thinking and let herself just feel. The moment was short-lived, as the door to her chamber slammed open and Adam burst inside. Selene began to shake as the maid fled, and she was left caught up in Adam’s whirlwind of emotion once again. She wasn’t surprised when his shock faded into a knowing grin and he simply apologized for forgetting to knock. He had been around far less often lately, always sent away or held back by his father, but he had always been her most loyal friend.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

There was a body on the floor — not just any body, Selene’s mind supplied. It was the body of the man who helped her climb a tree for the first time, and carried her to the nurse when she fell and scraped her knee when her own father was too busy in court to make an appearance — and the blood was spreading. The smell of copper strengthened as the viscous liquid neared her shoes. Then there was a hand on her arm, pulling her backwards and away from the mess.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

At just eighteen, Selene ripped her hand from Adam’s after he gripped it tight and suggested they just leave. That they run away. That the two of them steal a horse and he will help her flirt with the girl who arranges the flowers outside her mother’s shop in the next town over (“because you’re hopeless at making a decision and acting on it, especially when it comes to love.”) He was sure that he would become the youngest Guard Captain in history because of how good he’s gotten with a sword. The idea was absurd, and she told him so. He had refused to propose to her — for both of their sakes, he claims — but it is currently ruining her life. She is surrounded by beautiful things, like a bird with clipped wings in a gilded cage, and she hated him for being unable to see it. When she left that night, she decided to steal one simple thing. One letter addressed to Adam, written in his father’s hand. She did it just to spite him, to lash out and inconvenience him when his father arrived tomorrow.

She didn’t know what it said, and she never got the chance to read it before her mother caught her sneaking through the castle at night. Not before the letter was snatched from her hand as she was sent to her own room like a child.

As she slept, her father stayed awake and read the words that would damn them all.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Cheers echoed through the room and landed like lances through her skull with each exclamation. The traitor was dead. The King’s right hand had been killed for high treason. A cunning plot, foiled by the beautiful, simple Princess. Selene had never felt regret so strongly in her life. Her father’s hand was heavy on her shoulder, his iron grip rooting her to the floor just as surely as Adam’s own rage and betrayal had. She would not have to execute him, but she would be a face of the great royal family as the rest of the traitorous blood was purged from the kingdom and sent into exile. She was so caught up in her own emotion that she didn’t notice Adam lunge for the sword at his captor’s side. She didn’t see how he had gotten his hands free from the ropes binding him, or how his eyes, murderous, were glued to her retreating form.

What she did see was the King’s guard step smoothly in front of her. She heard his voice shout — “I’ll protect you!” — and watched, paralyzed by indecision. Too quickly, before she could do anything, think of anything, he neatly slid the double-sided blade through Adam’s chest. Reality crashed over her as Adam fell to the floor next to his father. The beautiful, simple princess was only able to watch once more as life unfolded in front of her. Her best friend’s blood joined his father’s and stained her fine silk shoes crimson.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

She was eleven, and her mother was going to kill her. Selene looked down at her skinned knees, eyes filling with tears as the blood from the scrape stained her skirts. Adam leapt from his horse and landed by her side, quickly assessing the damage and helping her up.

“Don’t worry,” he had said.

“I’ll take the blame for this one,” he had assured her.

She promised him that she’d help with his studies in return, to get his dad’s rare approval. He had just smiled and helped wipe her tears.

“Of course, Selene. We’ll always have each other. I’ll protect you forever,” he had promised.

Selene smiled, and accepted his vow. She knighted him there in the field, bestowing the title of best friend before promising her own loyalty with the unshakable certainty only a child could have.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The hands around her multiplied, and Selene was grappled tightly before being lifted bodily off the floor and carried away from the throne room. The brief moments of weightlessness reminded her of the heron, of so many other moments where she chose to do nothing but follow her father’s commands. With one final glance back to the golden filigree of the throne stained maroon with Adam’s blood, she wished once more for wings. She would fly far, far away from her heartbreak.

Upon being placed in her room and being told to “stay,” she opened her eyes. Selene gazed at the priceless jewels and gold that sparkled around her, and for the first time in her life, found them wanting.

Her shaking hand went to the door, and rested on the latch. Guilt, though if it was from her family or for Adam she was unsure, made her hand heavy with indecision. It was too late to save her friend, too late to change the past and change her passivity to action. This time, she made a choice.

Selene pushed open the heavy door. This time, as she walked into the hall, she chose freedom.