But I don’t feel it.
Nor do
my dad
or
brother
.
We’
re too busy dini
ng on the finest veal
butchered by the
22nd
subchapter in the Moon Realm, the freshest vegetables harvested from
subchapter
9
in the Sun Realm, and the strongest ale produced by the Star Realm.
Sometimes the food on
ly tastes bitter to me.
If I
were to
eve
r say that to my father, he would
p
unish me dearly.
If I
were to
ever say
that to the people I
am expected to rule, they would
spi
t on me, laugh at me.
How can
the finest food in all of the underworld taste bitter?
You should tas
te what we’re eating
, they would
say.
If only they understood.
It i
sn’t
about
the food—wa
s never about the food.
In any other place, in any other time, the food would
be perfect, delectable
.
But somehow eating it in our
empty palace, with the
empty soul who is my father, causes
even
the
tenderest
of
meats to
feel
tough and chewy, the sweetest of fruits to
taste
bitter and sour, the greenest of vegetables to turn to gray dust in my mouth.
It wasn’t all bad growing up.
My mother was a special person.
She loved me—truly loved me—not like the false
,
dutiful love that my father
bestows
upon
me.
She used to take me on adventures throughout the palace, running and singing
and laughing with me.
She’
d tell me tales in the dark corners of our home, where my father would never think to look for us.
With her I felt safe, happy.
S
he had feared my father, like I used to
.
That’s why my heart
died.
Because she left me.
But today I feel
a slight murmur
in my heart
, a mere palpitation,
a throb of heat, an arrhythmic
beat that lasts
for
only a moment, and then i
s gone, like the flash of a lightning bug in the dark.
Her jet
-
black hair cascades
around her face
like a funeral shroud, but I
fi
nd myself mesmerized.
She looks at me differently than all the others.
With interest, but not awe.
She looks
so sad, but some
how I know it’s
onl
y a fraction of the sadness
she h
o
ld
s
inside
her
.
Her skin is a natural pale, the
result of living underground her entire life, not like the
fake-
tanned bodies that parade
around the Sun Realm.
Although from a distance he
r eyes look dark, I know they a
re a deep, enchanting green, almost feline.
I half
expect them
to
glow in the dark.
Nonsense!
All nonsense.
I ca
n’t poss
ibly know what color her eyes are,
as if
I know her.
I’ve
never met her,
have
never so much as uttered
a single
word to her.
And yet…yet I still feel something for her.
I feel tied to her by something made up of a far stronger material than what ties me to my family, my friends—if I really have any
friends,
that is.
It isn’t love, of course
;
I don’t believe in love at first sight.
I feel the parade car start its slow arc around a bend; soon the Pen, and the girl, will be out of sight.
I see a big guy approach the girl.
His footsteps are not innocent.
His demeanor screams violence.
Something bad is about to happen.
I can sense it.
I think her eyes are still on me, but it’s hard to tell.
I have to warn her!
Although I know I should make a warni
ng motion of some sort, I don’t.
O
nly my facial expression—a deep frown—alerts her to the impending danger.
Her eyes pull away from mine and she sees the guy.
My view is partially blocked b
y the edge
of a building as the
float turns the corner.
Craning my neck,
I see her turn away from the guy, say so
mething to her friend.
The guy
says something
to her
.
My view is nearly blocked.
She stands up and pushes him.
She’s going to fight him.
No, you can’t!
I scream in my head
as subchapter 14
surrounds me.
Then she’s gone.
There’s nothing I can do now.
I think
about her all
day.
I wonder what
happened to her.
Did the big guy hurt
her?
Or worse, kill her?
Why was she so bold to stand up to s
omeone with
such a clear
size
advantage over her
?
I know that moon dwellers are a hardened people, but I’ve never known them to be suicidal.
I fear for her.
* * *
My meetings with the
leaders of the Moon Realm pass
torturously slow
ly
.
Although I’m
barely listen
ing, by the end of the day I’m
so annoyed with the leaders kissing my hind parts that
I want
t
o scream.
Vice President Ogi
of the Moon Realm
is the worst.
I think if I ask
him to go on all fours, lick my feet, and the
n scratch himself, he will gladly oblige
.
His first priority:
to look
good in front of the Sun Realm.
Although
I
’
m joking
about making Ogi imperso
nate a dog, the reality of it i
s far scarier.
My father could ask him to enslave every last moon dweller, whip them four times a day, and f
orce them to do G
od knows what, and he would give the order to his men with a smile on his face and without the least bit of regret.
I
n all the ways that my mother i
s
the most selfless person I’ve ever met
, Ogi i
s the most self
ish
.
I know he has
grand plans to rise
from the Moon Realm
to the Sun Realm one day, even if only as a servant in my father’s palace.
The only satisfaction I ge
t fr
om watching him bow before me is knowing it will
never get him anywhere.
My father, President Nailin
, ruler of the Tri-Realms, will
never so much as allow Ogi to clean up the crap of our palace dog
, Blue
.
For that I am
happy.
As
the rough gray cavern wa
lls flash past on either side during
the train
ride
back to the
Sun Realm, I think
about when my next sche
duled visit to the Moon Realm is.
Not for months
,
I realize.
All the key contracts are
signed.
The moon dwellers will
slave away for another year, providing sustenance to the lazy sun dwe
llers,
for a measly wage
of
five Nailins a day; all because of the lopsided contract signed by the weasel Ogi.
You would think that as
son of the President there’
d be somethin
g I could do to help.
There is
noth
ing.
I am
merely a puppet, sent across the Tri-Realm
s
to collect signatures and smile for the camera
s.
All the real negotiations a
re performed by my father, behin
d closed doors—and he always gets what he wants
.
I have
to find an excuse to go back to the Moon Realm.
To find
out what happened to
the dark-haired girl wit
h the emerald-green eyes.
I have
no choice in
the matter; an unseen force drives me.
I wonder if I would feel this strongly if she hadn’t been in danger when I saw her.
If we had just looked at each other, would I have simply shrugged her off as just another beautiful girl?
I don’t know the answer to my own question.
But it’s more than that.
It’s not only that she was in danger that interests me.
It’s the way she handled herself.
With confidence, with strength.
Different
from
the girls in the Sun Realm, who can’t seem to do anything for themselves.
Certainly not stand up to a big, strong guy in a prison.
I wonder
what her n
ame is, who she i
s, why
she i
s rotting away in
the Pen.
I
s
her sentence nearly over or has
she been given a one
-
way ticket?
Has
she stolen something; or wo
rse, killed someone?
If she has, I know she ha
d
a good reason for doing it
.
Although f
or all I know she might’
ve plotted a failed assassination attempt on my father—or even me.
Not th
at I would blame her.
We call
ourselves a democracy
,
but rule
like a dictatorship.
The title of Pre
sident for my father should’ve been
replaced with something else long ago.
King, Master, Czar…something.
If I lived in the Moon or Star Realm
s
, I would probably rebel against my father,
against the sun dwellers.
I’m surprised there has
n’t be
en a major rebellion, at least not in my lifetime.
The last time it happened was the inter-Realm Resistance in 475 P.M., but it was quashed by my father’s troops in less than a year
.
Another rebellion is
my father’
s greatest fear, and yet he takes
liberties away from the moon and star dwellers as easily as
he shakes
out stones fro
m his shoes.
I hate him for it
.
“Sir?” I hear someone say.
It’s my servant, Roc.
He’
s staring at me strangely.
I look
around and realize the train
has
st
opped.
“Oh, we’re here,” I say
, jumping up.
Roc escorts
me out of the first-class car
and onto the palace grou
nds.
Everything is
brighter
here
, nothing like the gloo
miness of the Moon Realm.
We a
re still undergro
und, yes, but the entire roof
glow
s
brightly, illuminating
the massive cave network.
It’
s all part
of the distinction between the Realms.
Electricity i
s strictly rationed,
such that the Sun Realm receives
eighty percent of it, of course, with a paltry
fifteen
percent going to the Moon Realm, and a measly five percent to the star dwellers.