Ainosenotusituan

God is kind; God is merciful. He is forgiving, and ever abounding in love.

BUT WE ARE NOT GOD.

Time and time again, since she was a young princess, up to when we crowned her our queen, we have told Queen Ainosenotusituan this. So why then does she still cuddle beneath the arms of that DeMarron the Detriment? Why, every night, does he hold her close, in his bed or hers, and plant kisses below her eye, and run a comforting thumb along her anxious-ridden belly, often planting kisses there too? Why is he forgiving, why is he abounding in love?

DeMarron might be willing to crack, to show mercy, for weak is he in her arms. But we must trust Ainosenotusituan to do what is right for our kingdom.

Sigh. They were supposed to be brought together by a potential negotiation, and then drawn apart by each kingdom’s refusal to back down. But instead, each monarch was drawn to the other through a mutual stress, and a burning desire for comfort. Ah, they spend too much time in each other’s arms! Pull yourself together, Ainosenotusituan!

Ainosenotusituan. Yessssssss, look at it. Look at her name. Such a ridiculously impossible name! But it forces one to look at it, closely, carefully, as one should do for a person who was always destined to be Queen.

You’d better get Her Majesty’s name right!

Lingering vengeance inspired it. Her mother clenched up her nails and said, “Give me a name for my child that screams, ‘We will not show mercy’.” So she gathered her advisors and told them to dig up her long-lost Esan roots. They tried their best. Ainose—now that one was perfection! But the former queen clapped her hands and said, “Longer!” And they found another Esan word, ‘ituan’—which means ‘humans’…right? Well, they gave it to her all the same. But far from the language, no one could find out how to say something like ‘not us’ and combine it with ‘humans’ like the queen wanted, so she said, “Well. It is not our fault that we’re also English,” and simply slapped the words ‘not us’ in the middle of her new baby’s name. Ainosenotusituan.

The kingdom was in joyous uproar. Our citizens lovingly called her Princess Notus, and now, of course, Queen Notus. ‘Notus’ is now a popular name among the children of our kingdom!

How these two monarchs of the neighboring enemy kingdoms evolved from heated peace meetings to cuddling each other to sleep at night, how they evolved into this, this…sin…well, it had to be from the grief they shared from each of their parents offing each other, her monarch mother and his monarch father, a sad double-slaying. This is what drew the two kingdoms to attempt a peace, but of course, neither side liked the other’s terms. But amid council members shouting over one another, the monarchs shared the same gray bags under their eyes, the same exhausted look. Each other was the only one who seemed to understand. A couple of compassionate words were exchanged at the end of each meeting—an “I know” or an “I wish you better sleep”.

Unexpectedly—and guiltily—they seemed to look forward to seeing the other at each meeting. Until one night, an unexpected request came from DeMarron: to meet up on her territory. Just him, no guards, simple talk. Though she accepted, she was guarded at first. But in a vulnerable state, both touch-starved and lonely, they embraced…and fell asleep together. Of course, the next day they were horrified and swore they must never do such again. But with hearts weak from grief, they compromised and drew a boundary: they are still enemies in the light, but in the dark and lonely night…also…comforters. But one day Ainosenotusituan’s short, black, bushy hair that sat atop her head like a crown, and her wide lips painted the same color to match, and her cutely curled lashes atop her midnight eyes endeared themselves to his lips, which he brought to her cheek…then to her nose…then to her own lips. And her hand took delight in his hair—long, twisted, fluffy locks—and she offered up kisses, too. Oh, we do not approve! Now they extended their boundary: still enemies…yet they may kiss…for comfort. Now she caresses his face and calls him DeMarron the Desired, and his eyes flutter, and he whispers her full name in her ear: Ainosenotusituan. Ainosenotusituan. Ainosenotusituan.

Well. WE are not comfortable. This has gone on for too long. Literally cuddling with the enemy? No, no, I must descend and warn her myself.

BOOM!

A thunderous cloud appears before our Queen one night, before she can head inside her palace walls to sleep beside the enemy. The cloud is me.

“AINOSE!” I roar, quaking every foundation. “AINOSENOTUSITUAN!”

Our Queen shudders, but turns and answers. “Grandmother…”

“Ainose… what are you doing?”

“Grandma, it’s not what it looks like.”

“Oh? Because it looks like you are lying with our enemy!”

“I just…I needed…”

“Needed…?”

“I was about to…?”

“About to…?”

She huffed. “I was about to do it. I almost did. But I…”

“Almost.” I say this quietly, hauntingly. “Almost? ALMOST IS NEVER ENOUGH.”

“GRANDMOTHER, I AM ALONE!” she thunders back, raindrops falling through her eyes. “I am alone.”

And now I want to hold my granddaughter. Which I can’t do in the clouds. Raindrops want to fall from me. Would it be easier…if I let her give up…let them take our kingdom…and she comes to us? Joins us in the clouds?

Yes. It would. BUT WE CANNOT LET THEM HAVE OUR LAND’S POWER.

I toughen up. Contain my raindrops.

“My granddaughter. Remember who you are, and remember who they are. They killed your mother. They killed me.”

“Not DeMarron,” she whispered.

“Yes, DeMarron, because he carries his father’s blood.”

“Is it not enough that mother took him out as well?”

“No. He struck first, and so he must not be allowed his line. No matter that he is dead, too. Everything we did to them, they did to us first. But now, you must strike first, Ainose. What do you think his own ancestors are telling him right now?”

She closes her eyes. “Okay. I will do what I am supposed to.”

“Tonight.”

Our Queen’s breath catches.

“By noon. No later. One more night of weakness, I will allow. Everything has been in place, yet you drag your feet. But tomorrow, you will be bold. You will fulfill your namesake.”

With a puff, I leave her.

WE MUST TRUST OUR QUEEN.

In bed, DeMarron confesses something harsh to our Queen. And I realize that I should not have given her this last night. “I love you,” he says, his hand on her face.

“Why would you tell me that?” she whispers through gritted teeth.

“I don’t know,” he whispers. “I know I shouldn’t. But I do.” He leans his head on hers, as if he knows something terrible will happen soon.

You don’t know what his ancestors are telling him, I whisper.

And this time, she understands.

She holds his hand, the one on her face. “Okay,” she whispers, and kisses his lips through tears. And she says this to both of us.

Our Queen does not wait till noon. In the morning, she embraces him, thanks him. She leaves the “I’m sorry” in her head so as not to alert him. Then she sends him to his palace. And once she is informed that he is there, she orders the strike. She watches in the distance to make sure.

Ainosenotusituan—it means ‘no one is greater than God…not us humans’.

We already said we are not God.

And apparently, thankfully, neither is she.