She did not want him to be forced to suffer the jealousy of the two older brothers, sons from the king's first marriage, whom she knew where not much loved by their father, and would not have liked the baby to grow up in a gloomy city palace when he could have this instead: the park and the forest, the animals, the flowers and the orchard; he was a lively child and always on the move and, although a little too isolated, here there was enough space for him to live without excessive constraints.
Certainly, little by little she had tried to organize her life in a different way from what the king would have demanded. Despite the bans, for example, she had begun to frequent the castle library and the very fact of being able to spend part of the day there, in peace, immersed in those wonderful worlds that would otherwise have been forbidden to her, had given her greater serenity and ability to better withstand her recluse solitude.
And then there was her son, who grew up and surrounded her with an ever deeper and warmer affection.
And her poems.
A little out of boredom and a bit out of challenge, she had begun to write those diary pages, which had grown and ended up being vitally necessary.
Her husband had reproached her for her wishes for independence (albeit very minimal) and had even threatened to take away her child if she did not respect the pacts between them.
She had then fought like a lioness defending her child even at the cost of dying, and she had faced his furious gaze head-on, as the king tried to be master of her soul too. He had mocked her for her stupid and useless pages, written only to protect her from feeling like a ship completely at the mercy of the calm and the storm. In the beginning, she answered with the same tone and the same weapons, but then had to succumb to tears, which made her understand how desperately weak and alone she was, despite her efforts to build a protective mental armor for herself.
Then the king had left, perhaps satisfied to have once more won over his opponent and convinced that he had made it very clear who of the two was in command (which in truth was obvious) and what he demanded from her.
Thus, on the night when the little prince abandoned in his bed felt immensely alone and fidgeted uneasily in the darkness that was so frightening to him, even the queen had bitterly meditated on the high price she would always have to pay for the honor of being asked to marry the king and give him a son.
And yet, that that same finch that seemed so fragile and instead was as strong as a warrior, had conquered his father like no one before and had now brought back to her a different husband, who even knew how to admit his wrong and asked her to put up with him as it was, because he, in his own way, loved her and didn't want to see her unhappy.
"I too," said the queen at last, "sometimes I would like to know your deepest thoughts."
"What do you mean?" The king inquired guardedly.
" Why for example did you ask me to marry you one day? Was it just to have another child or did something in me attract your interest? And why was your first bride not a prisoner of your jealous possession mania? There are many things that I don’t know and that in my long lonely days torment me, as their meaning escapes me. But " she added quickly, seeing the king's face was clouding over," this is not what I want to know now; don't worry, I won't ask you embarrassing questions today or ever. I just wish you would tell me what you think of the prince.”
The king felt relieved at this last sentence: the queen had suddenly made it easy for him, when only a few seconds before the road ahead had seemed so steep and full of traps to make him shudder.
Nor was it easy for him to remove the veils that hid the faces of years-old ghosts. To discover one's own hidden desires, anger, disappointment, hatred, and love is not easy for anyone, and least of all for those who, like him, had been educated never to reveal their most concealed secrets even to their most trusted friends.
Being able to explore the hidden crypts of the mind can be a deadlier weapon than the sharpest sword.
He would have liked sometimes to reveal his utmost secrets to his queen, who, he knew well and was happy about, was worthy of his utmost trust, but had always backed away and that secret diary had infuriated him so much precisely because he recognized his difficulty in not being able to confide in those who loved him despite everything.
But if she was questioning his feelings about her son ...
There was nothing sweeter and more disturbing in his heart than the thought of the child.
" What I am thinking or what I am feeling? " he asked her.
" Both.”
" He's a boy like I've never seen in my life. I am fond of him though sometimes he seems a little wild. But there will be time to educate him to become a true king.”
He stopped talking abruptly: the queen's eyes were already reproaching him for his lie. The prince was not destined for that role, they both knew it.
" And if not king “ he continued " a true noble prince. I find that he is like you in many ways and like me in other ways. A perfect mix, don't you think?”
"I don't know if the king appreciates in him what is mine or what is his," she insinuated.
"I don't know either, but I believe your first guess," he admitted.
" I must therefore think that you are not really sorry for the thoughts that live inside me.”
" Not entirely, even if sometimes I find it hard to understand them. But then our son too is like this: sometimes he is a child who has no mysteries, cheerful and naive, while sometimes he is an enigma and he baffles me. He has an adult pride and courage that frightens me, even if " he smiled tenderly at the memory " he is not afraid to confess that darkness makes him shudder. He can defend his positions even against the king, but he does not hesitate to admit his weaknesses, which makes him irresistible.”
" Do you love him?”
" Yes " the king admitted. “ And I'm sorry I didn't truly get to know him before. Luckily, I had that crazy idea of wanting to bring him alone to hunt. I don't even know how I thought of that, maybe it was a divine inspiration. Now I could not live without him, not even when he makes me angry and I would like to find the courage to punish him as he deserves; but it seems that with him I have completely softened and I cannot, no matter what I do, imagine his suffering without experiencing it myself. Think about the issue of the park: when he confessed to me that he was afraid of the cell of the tower, I pictured him alone, up there, trembling terrified by the noise of his own breath. To make a long story short, I wished to have him next to me at night to hold his hand and hold him as you do. I envy you this chance.”
" Will you take him with you then? " asked the queen, in suspense.
" Only if you agree, but I won't do it if it makes you suffer. Do not think that I am cruel, as I sometimes the words I say may make me look like that.”
" I never believed it; I ... I don't know how I would live without him, but if it was necessary for his education ...”
The king felt from her voice that she was trying to keep calm, but the tension was palpable.
" I repeat: only if your answer is yes. Maybe in a while, when he too will be old enough not to miss your embrace too much.”
The queen smiled.
" After all " he concluded, I decided to spend more time here from now on. I am realizing that it is indeed a delightful place, much better than the city, and no one will be able to prevent me from leaving my state commitments in the hands of my ministers more and enjoying my son more. And my wife, of course.”
" And your other children?
" They've already had what was due to them and the oldest is seriously training to become king. Perhaps he hopes to replace me soon " the sovereign grins " but I don't think his time has come yet. He will not be a bad king; certainly not as forceful as me.”
" What do they think of us?”
"