Glass

I lay awake, ignoring my heavy eyelids, pondering about what exactly went wrong. Every word of dialogue I could remember played over and over again, the memories sweet as they were puzzling. What was it that I was missing? Had I said something to offend her? Had I been so blind in my affection that I failed to realise any discomfort?

It was all just so sudden. None of it made any sense. And all my heart knew to do was hang heavy with guilt.

I felt sick. Sick with guilt and sick in a way that I hadn't quite experienced before. It was a turning in my gut, accompanied by a racing heart. My heart seemed to have been that way since the moment I laid eyes on that mystery. I couldn't explain it. At first, it was pleasurable; the way every vein in my body buzzed at the thought of her, but then the thought of her running returned, making me cold with shame.

My eyes stayed fixated on the ceiling's pattern, a diamond of red and blue tiles. I had to apologise to her, at the very least. And as selfish as it was; as cruel as it twisted in my gut; I hoped and hoped that she would still be willing to marry me, regardless of whatever I had done. There was no other who interested me that night. No other made me smile quite the same. No other made my heart flutter like the tapping of rain on a stained glass window; the very rain I compared her voice to, reaching out to meet the sea, the soothing waves washing over me with every reset of the memory of her.

I winced.

Was this what being in love felt like? If that was the case, was it an illness or a blessing?

Knowing that lying down pretending to fall asleep wouldn't help, I sat up, pushing the stifling covers away. From behind the curtains, sunlight was already peeking through, and had been for some time. The night I met that mystery woman was over, and, exposed by the Sun's light, my fears took hold. Fears that I had ruined my one chance with her, fears that she saw me as a fool; fears that I'd be forced to marry another. The dreams of the ocean drew further away with every step she ran, lace sea foam tailing behind her. I could not marry if it wasn't her. I could not explore the world in turn. But, oh, what bliss it was to come so close.

I stared despairingly at the glass slipper at my bedside. The dim glow of a singular candle could not give justice to its artistry - the unique swirls melted into the glass like seaweed, accompanied by pearls of pastel blue and white. It was nothing like anything I'd ever seen before, every bit as unique as the woman who had worn them.

I hadn't even faced my parents yet - I couldn't. I sought refuge in my cell, for once making the decision to be there on my own terms and not wanting to leave; ever. I was sure I had embarrassed myself and my family. I had embarrassed the kingdom of Mendessa. I had embarrassed all those who came before me, mighty warriors and leaders reduced to a boy who couldn't even track another human being, never mind a beast of legend.

I hoped the covers would swallow me whole. I hoped I could run far from the palace, too - but I couldn't do both. I would always be Prince of Mendessa - it is a title chained to me, and there would be no turning back. But if I too could escape without trace and without a name, even then I would be faced with an eternal hardship. I was stuck. Stuck and crushed between two boulders blocking the two paths of life I must now choose between.

Remain a shameful prince or become a lowly nomad and leave the kingdom in ruin without a future leader? That was all I had if I was to avoid the consequences.

Maybe if I stayed in here long enough I could just turn invisible? Maybe people would forget I existed?

The hope was ridiculously futile.

My life was all ahead of me from there on in. A refusal to let me roam beyond, an eventual arranged marriage, a dull life, and a humiliating reputation.

I wanted to scream. But then, I thought hard about what the mysterious woman had said.

"Break the glass."

Forge my own destiny? Was that even possible?

Those three words looped more than any of the others, a voice from the past urging me onwards to my future.

What good would lying around thinking about things do? Here, I was getting nowhere, driving myself mad with repeats of the night and crushing myself down with every possible thing I said that could have been wrong. I could have stayed and suffered over it, or I could have followed that woman's example and hopefully get my chance at happiness like she did.

I stood to my feet valiantly.

And then I sat back down.

Who was I kidding? I was not prepared for such a task. As much as that woman stood out to me on the night, finding her among a sea of merchants and nobles and farmers and guardsmen and builders and travellers was a needle in a haystack - shining and beautiful, but impossible to find. Without a face or name to attach her to, the endeavour would surely be in vain.

Furthermore, I'd have to investigate - ask questions, take names - and even a simple introduction proved to be a struggle. Perhaps my father understood my nature all along and knew that the outside world was no place for a man like me.

But I had to try.

Otherwise, I'd never be a match for the braver woman who defied her situation. And if not to prove myself to her, I'd have to prove myself to my family. I'd have to prove myself...

I never considered proving myself to me before. Not until that moment. I always knew what I wanted but instead of doing something about it I waited. I waited because that was expected of me. I waited because that's what was desired. The years I'd wasted on waiting and waiting had to stop.

I had to find her.

And I knew just how to do it.