A King Without His Queen

Rashka sighed a bit and leaned back into the elaborately embroidered pillows. The meal had been grand, but it was only grand because it was a celebration feast. Rashka's father had announced that in a fortnight, the Oonai would be going back to their homeland for the winter. It was definitely a time to celebrate. Every winter the Oonai would return to the small portion of land they owned to hone skills, weave beautiful cloth, and prepare for the travels of the coming year.

However, there was another reason to celebrate. The Akelan had been requested to preform at the birthday celebration of the Princess's birthday. Royalty usually gave generously for performances by the Akelan. After all, they were the best of the performers. There were only three of them, but the Akelan were famous for mastering almost any sort of entertainment. The party was to be held the night before they left for their homeland.

The gypsy prince sighed again, his eyes scanning the tents before him. The feast was a good time for Rashka to do what he loved to do: observe his people. They were so content, so full of life even though life was not all sunshine and rainbows for them. In fact it was almost the opposite. It amazed the prince that his people were able to take what they were given and make the best of it.

He also observed his parents who were still very much in love with each other, It was evident in the way one would look at the other, smile at each other if their eyes should meet, and of course the not so subtle kiss here and there which made Rashka chuckle. His father was a great leader and a wonderful father. His mother was a beauty, and she was what he hoped his wife would become. Jasmina was a kind, generous woman who was strict and forceful when needed.

A smile graced the Oonai prince's lips as his thoughts lingered on his parents. Rashka hoped and prayed he would become the kind of leader his father was, and prayed for a wife that was like his mother. Of course the prince had his own ideas of what to look for in a woman, but he loved his mother, and wanted to use her personality and character as a guide for finding the right woman for himself.

Rashka sighed as he walked around the camp. The children were getting ready for bed, the men were gathering around campfires for news and random chatter, and the women were helping the children or cleaning up. A very typical night. Though on the night of the princess's party, the gypsy would be in the town to entertain the folks who could not make it to the castle. On that night, the children could stay up as late as they wanted.

The dark eyes of the prince looked up to the beautiful night sky. Stars were sparkling like new diamonds, and the moon was shining to allow enough light to move around. By now, the prince was on his usual perch. He went to this certain rock every night just to think about the world, and the people in it. Sometimes Rashka just sat there to be alone. He sometimes needed to be alone when he was tired of having people around constantly. It was a nice escape, especially since his parents approved of him having time just for himself.

'The princess's birthday party....should be interesting,' thought the Oonai prince and he sat cross-legged on the rock. He hadn't been in the palace for about thirteen years. It was a hard time for the prince to remember the past when he tried to live in the present with a little thought now and again of the future. Why be depressed over the past and worry about the future? It was all pointless to Rashka. However, that memory of thirteen, going on fourteen years ago, was stronger than most of the young prince's memories.

“Rashka! Time for you to get to bed!” yelled Jasmina. Sure the prince was twenty, but his mother sometimes treated him like he was still seven years old. Rashka sighed and trudged back to where his mother was standing. A playful pout was on his face. Jasmina just stood there with her hands on her hips. Apparently she still feared that the guards would come and seize her boy when he was alone. Jasmina was not entirely convinced that Rashka was safe. After all, the gypsy camp was pretty easy to find.

“Mom, do you have to treat me like I'm five years old?” he asked in a whining voice. Jasmina smirked a little before ruffling her boy's hair. He wrinkled his nose slightly, which caused his mother to laugh. She knew how Rashka liked his hair to be untouch mostly. So to ruffle his hair was one way to annoy Rashka.

“Son, when you act like a child, I can't help but treat you like a child. But in all seriousness, it is getting late and the family must start some preparations for Princess Lillianna's birthday.. Two weeks is not long especially when you consider that we will also be trying to get ready to travel home.” The queen kissed her son's forehead as they had both come to his tent. “Good night my little one, sleep well. May your dreams be filled with laughter and dancing.”

Rashka smiled and nodded, wishing his mother the same. He saw her sigh, and slump slightly as she headed off to the tent she shared with Tarquin, Rashka's father. It was only then that he realized that his mother was legitimately concerned for him. Did kissing a princess's hand really mean death? Rashka shook his head and entered his tent. He removed the vest and the sash around his waist before flopping onto a pile of blankets and pillows.

Sighing, the dark haired man rolled onto his side. He watched silently as the wind cause the candle flame to flicker a bit. Fire was tricky, and had to be handled carefully lest he got burned. Maybe that was what was happening to him. He had played with the fire, the princess, and might end up getting burned for it, which may mean death. “Lovely thoughts to end the day with,” he muttered to himself before blowing out the candle in attempt to let the void of dreams claim his racing mind.