A Little Note:1
This is an ending I wrote to a story called 'The Lady or The Tiger'. In the story, there is a princess, a king, and a royal subject. The princess and the subject were having a love affair. When the king found out, he wanted to punish the man since he was a lower rank in the kingdom and he dared love the king's daughter. The trial consisted of two doors. One had a tiger and he would be attacked by it, unlikely to live. If he chose the other door, a woman came out and the two of them were instantly married. The princess, who was watching the trial, had figured out which door held the lady and which door held the tiger. Relying on her to point him in the right direction, he waited for her signal. She pointed to the right. Now, this is where the story ends and the conclusion to what had happened (either the lady or the tiger) is up to the reader. This is what I wrote...2
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He turned and with a firm and rapid step he walked across the empty space. Every heart stopped beating, every breath was held, every eye was fixed immovably on that man. Without the slightest hesitation, he went to the door on the right and opened it.
The door revealed a crack of light, only showing the smallest hint of what wandered behind the heavy stone. In the proceeding seconds, the waif braced himself for what lay ahead. More light shone through and when his eyes only saw the color of orange, he began to panic. His heart was like a ticking bomb. Beginning to wallow in the agonizing thing they call time, he prayed like mercy that the explosion of fatality would be quick and painless. Then, he would rest in peace. Of course he’d be buried as a shredded and bloody mass of guts and bones, but in peace nonetheless.4
Obviously, the princess had pondered on the verdict of the tiger in her many sleepless nights preceding her lovers’ trial and as she watched the man with her dull gray eyes, she pondered again:5
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Dressed in a gold sequined gown and armed with roses, the lonely woman knelt by the cement tombstone. Her fingers traced along the engraved letters that stated “royal subject”. Her father must’ve thought her lover was just too subordinate, the princess thought. He didn’t even give him the right to his own name. A single tear slid down her face as the highness attempted to conceal her emotion. Inside, her heart of glass shattered for what seemed like the thousandth time. Every day, every night she cried herself to sleep, she tried to piece it back together…and failed. Time and time again, the voices in her head consoled her. “You made the right choice,” they’d say. “You did it for the good of your kingdom, your people.” As much as she wanted to believe it, she couldn’t help but think that her conscience was wrong. It seemed like there were devils on both of her shoulders.7
Almost inaudible, the woman began to utter words of regret. The single tear turned into a stream of salty water, like New Orleans during one of its many flood seasons.8
“All I wanted to do was love you,” she cried. “Now even that is impossible.”9
Her acute hearing caught the sound of footsteps. Hoping not to get caught lamenting over a forbidden and dead man who was hated thought the castle, she quickly planted an ebony rose in the dirt. Horrified by what she had done, her hands gripped the flower and chucked it across the graveyard. Instead, she repeated her previous action with a white rose. For what was once revenge, turned into the regret of a noble lady and the innocence of a common man.10
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The gentleman was taken aback when the doorway had become completely exposed and even more surprised when the orange his eyes beheld the previous moment wasn’t a tiger, but instead the glittering sequins on the soon to be bride’s dress. For a brief moment the man glanced in the princess’s direction. The gaze they shared happened to be an uncomfortable one. The woman stared with cold eyes of focus and if the man didn’t know any better, he might’ve seen anger. The eyes of the subject however contained confusion and a very large amount of it. When his pupils questioned why, her answer was simple. You didn’t love me. You don’t love me. Not now. The princess lowered her head and closed her eyes. She couldn’t bear to witness the holy matrimony. She didn’t want to be watching two lovers, knowing she wasn’t one of them. 12
Out in the middle of the arena, a wedding ceremony barely existed. Every girl dreams of a fantastical event when they wonder about wearing the white dress of innocence and purity before bearing a ring of commitment. Yes, the princess was there, the prince charming had been present, and I guess you could call the on lookers the testy in-laws you really don’t look forward to corresponding with in future years. However, the situation these engaged lovers found themselves in put the whole celebration out of sync.13
With the bride and groom holding hands, the hired preacher read from an old leather book. The words he spoke resembled love, togetherness, and finding comfort. The man, whose eyes were fixed on the princess sobbing on her throne, found none of these. The vows came around and the maiden repeated the old man’s words with a soft smile. When the gentleman’s turn came however, he let go of the lady’s hands. 14
“I can’t.” he whimpered.15
He walked in the direction of the royal family and stared at the tear stained highness. She looked up. A second later, her feet hurriedly carried her down the stone steps leading to the arena.16
“What are you doing?” she asked, with an angry tone.
“I can’t do it.”
“You have to.” she begged.
“I love you.” he confessed. His expression said otherwise.
“No you don’t.” The princess shook her head. “You sure don’t.”17
With that, the woman walked with a solid step right up to the unopened stone door. In a trance-like state, she opened it. What happened afterwards is probably pretty obvious. However, the author of this ending does not want describe such a gruesome scene. (I am the queen of soap operas and romance, not horror) The crowd shrieked in terror. How could one of their beloved leaders commit such a cruel suicide…in front of everyone in the kingdom? 18
That night when the shock of prior events wore off, the newlyweds laid their heads down for sleep. The groom became restless and his dreams began to torture his conscience:19
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Feet shuffled through the loose dirt of the kingdom’s cemetery. The man had only one destination: the grave of the king’s daughter. He quickened his pace, hoping to get his task completed as quickly as possible. After approaching the marble tombstone, he curled up beside it, his fingers tracing the soil as if he was drawing his own gravesite. 21
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.22
It didn’t matter what he did, he just knew it was wrong. Now he lost his lover and yet, gained another. How was he supposed to feel? Disappointed that the woman he spent so many months loving was now an embalmed freezing body in an oak casket? Happy, because he finally satisfied his desire for the girl he had been infatuated by for the longest time? Could it be, after the trial ended, his heart swam in bittersweet emotions? A solitary tear fell. Who says grown men don’t cry?23
Sighing, he shrugged his shoulders. The man’s fingers twisted the rose in his hands. A thorn pricked the callused skin, causing blood to trickle down his palm. Instead of applying pressure to the cut to ease the hurt, he let the crimson fluid flow ever so freely. Nothing else could’ve described the pain he felt at that very moment.24
Remembering his reason for venturing out to the cemetery in the first place, the royal subject dug a small hole in the ground. He placed the rose in the miniature ditch and replaced the dirt. 25
The rose had originally been red, which resembled two things. In this case, the color represented love. Edges of the petals had grown tired of its color and wore to a crispy black. This was due to the man’s reluctance of visiting his former lover’s grave. The gentleman stood and turned away. His feet started shuffling once again.26
At the princess’s grave sat a lonely flower. Slowly, the two tone petals detached themselves from the stem and gently floated in the breeze, following the person in tattered clothes. Love and regret were two burdens he’d bear forever. 27
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The next day, the groom’s dream became a reality...29
“You’re Majesty, I-” 30
The woman ceased her words. Initially, she had planned on informing the king that the feast was prepared. She decided to silence herself when she realized the eyes of the king stared out of the window, fixed on her husband who sat next to his daughter’s grave. The lady approached the old man carefully. 31
“Do you miss her?” she asked. 32
He didn’t turn or even speak. He was muted. “Sir?” A response found the lady this time. 33
The ruler’s voice was rather steady. “I’m sorry for what happened to her, yes. She would’ve made a fine queen someday. There is no need for regret, though. She did do this to herself, after all. What about your husband? Do you think he still loves her?”34
The servant just glared at her ruler. She wanted to blame him for everything unfortunate that had happened in the last few days. If the king had just accepted the affair with the subordinate man and his daughter, she, the princess, and her husband would’ve never been in this horrid mess. A depressed woman wouldn’t be lying in a ditch, a mournful man wouldn’t be heartbroken, and she wouldn’t be in a marriage of pure convenience. Everything would’ve gone on happy and cheerful, like it had always been. Although rage boiled inside her, she just breathed an answer.35
“I don’t know.” The king and the lady shared a mutual moment of dolefulness. 36
Eventually, the kingdom found its way to normalcy once again. The king had found a new queen and the two of them had a grand wedding. Everyone cheered and shed tears of joy. A few years later, the couple welcomed a baby girl. On the night of the heir’s birth, the king knelt by his beside. His fingers rubbed on a rosary his hands refused to let go of. That evening, he prayed to God that his newest daughter would not commit the sins of his last. 37
Honorable mention
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