Chapter 1 - The Sun Is My Hobby

    Living became a task. Instead of wanting to, it became something people needed to do. Whether it was liked or hated, everyone still had to live. Suicide is a sin; that is what my mother used to tell me.

Where I live, the kingdom of Endia, I am expected to be the one my people look up to. I am a prince, a soon to be king, yet I fear life more than I fear death. In three days I am expected to marry the princess of the kingdom called Reum. My parents say that I must love her, but I do not know her. My father told me, "she is a pure beauty" and expects me to love her from those words. Most princes would accept any beautiful princess, but I feel indifferent.

The door behind me opens. My tall, yet slender, mother enters. Her appearance and personality reminds me of the dark sea; intimidating and deep. She walks behind me and touches my shoulder. This often means that she has news to discuss with me. I turn to face her and my deep blue eyes meet with her brown soulless ones.

"Son, are you ready for marriage?" My mother asks. Her voice is bitter, it almost sounds filled with regret.

"I cannot say if I am. I do not know," I answer.

"She is beautiful and kind, you will love her."

"Marriage without love, that makes marriage seem like a simple thing, like living."

"Living is not simple, son. You will thank your father later in life for finding her. She is visiting today, I want you to be kind." My mother's eyes are trying to put a spell on me. Her eyes wants me to obey her words. I can tell, I can see the true colors in people.

"Very well. If that is all, you may leave." My hands begin to clench and I no longer stare into her worried face.

A sigh leaves her lips and she exits my room. My family and I have never gotten along. They are cruel, more . . . royal than I. Sometimes my father believes that I have the heart of a peasant.

The girl—no, the young woman that I will be marrying is coming to my home today. My mother wants me to be someone else, but I wish to be myself. My father will tell me how worthless I will be if I do not love her. He will tell me that I am nothing. I am nothing, I am nothing, and I am nothing. I have heard many people get told that, but they are something, they are people and they are life. They are something.

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The servants are people to me, but rats to my father. Whenever they see me, a smile forms across their face. The kind of smile someone makes when a baby laughs. When my father would pass by, they make this expression as if the world is ending. Maybe the world is ending and people are just pieces left in a time loop to repent.

The clothes that I am wearing are quite beautiful. The designs on my clothing are Arabic and the fabric is golden and bright. My pantaloons are all the same, dark, like the night sky. My biggest fear for today is love. I do not know if I will feel something for this woman. Once she walks into my home, I want to feel something, I want to feel love, but that is not something I am certain that I will feel.

I have seen many woman in my lifetime, and have never felt love for any of them. Of course I feel love for my mother and some of the servants, but that is a different kind of love, a family kind of love.

"Young master," a voice says.

"Come in," I order.

My door opens and in comes Ella, my favorite servant. She is kind and never shows a frown. She would tell me stories of my childhood. She told me stories of how I laughed and played with certain toys. She raised me for most of my childhood.

"The princess is here to see you," Ella points out.

"Thank you Ella. I will be down momentarily."

"Love her if you wish. Forgive me for speaking informally, but I care for you as if you are my own. Do not love her because your parents wish for you to love her, but because your heart desires her."

"Thank you Ella, it truly means the world to me that you said that."

Ella smiles and leaves my room. She will always have a special place in my heart and soul. She is like a mother to me. Never has she made me feel less or worthless, she plays a part in why I am the young man that I am today. In a week I will be eighteen, in a week, I will be married and new.

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As I begin to walk down the long curvy white stairs, I begin to think deep thoughts. My thoughts go deeper than the universe. They crowd up in my head and create an explosion of stars, stars that are afraid, stars that are dead, and some are bright. Today I want to be bright and I want to love. My parents will finally see that I am not worthless; I am something beautiful, a person.

Once I get to the last step, the door opens. My eyes have just discovered something beautiful, something pure. My father was not lying, this princess is enchanting. She has this face that makes her seem terrified, yet new. Her face resembles a child, a child who wishes to survive, who wishes to live. Her hair reminds me of snow. It's thick and it makes me want to touch it. I want to create snow angels and make memories. Her skin is fair and clear. She is as beautiful as the thought of living. Perhaps, she is a beautiful lie. Those bright eyes of hers are eager and curious like an infant's.

I could go on for days about how beautiful she is, but my heart feels nothing. All I see is a beautiful woman who stands before me, but my heart does not speak words of love. Maybe if I talk to her, my heart will begin to think. She looks at me and she bows and I do the same. My parents look pleased; their smiles go deeper than an abyss.

Behind my parents are the queen and king of Reum. I can tell that they are observing me well. They are judging everything that I am. Her parents look like gods. They are tall and beautiful.

"You two may go for a walk in the garden," the king of Reum encourages.

I smile and bow and so does his daughter. Together we leave our parents and exit through the front door. Honestly, I am nervous. It is not because of love, but because she is so delicate and I am afraid of breaking her. We pass the entrance of my home and make our way through the gates leading to the garden.

Usually I do not leave my room unless I need to. That means that I rarely visit the garden. Now that I am seeing it, I know that I must visit it more often. It smells like rain on a spring day. The roses create a bright and romantic atmosphere. It is all too beautiful. I am supposed to be falling in love with this princess, but I am falling in love with the world instead.

"Prince Kai. I am nervous, but I am happy that you seem kind." Those are her first words to me. Simple, yet sweet.

"Princess. I am sorry. I find it flattering that you know my name, maybe your parents or my parents told you, but no one has ever told me yours." I feel informal telling her this. I feel low and embarrassed.

She chuckles. Her laugh is high pitched and almost cute. "It is alright. My name is Amelia. Do you know what it means?"

"Amelia, I do not. I know that to me, it means beautiful." I am honest with my words. Her name pours out of my mouth like a waterfall. It creates an essence so sweet, yet so cold.

"What a silly thing to say. My name means work, yet I have never worked a day in my life." Her eyes are sad when she finishes that sentence. Immediately they change back to curious though. She is special and I want to know more about her.

"Do you wish to work?" I ask.

"Maybe." Then she smiles, she smiles as if she knew I would ask that question.

"Are you okay with marrying me?" I ask.

"What a gentlemen thing to say," she laughs. "Honestly prince Kai, I do not feel love for you, but I do want to get to know you. For that very reason, I am okay that I am marrying you."

"Interesting," I reply. "I am okay with marrying you as well, Princess Amelia. I hope to get along."

"I already thought we were," she smiles.

"And we will continue to."

"Can I tell you something?" She asks.

"Of course."

"The sun is my hobby." She looks into the sky and the sun helps show off her gentle eyes.

Those words are beautiful, and yet I did not understand them. I process those words and goosebumps form on my tender skin. I want to hear her repeat those words to me forever.

"Excuse me?" That is my selfish reply.

"The sun is my hobby. It shines on the land and gives life. The sun gives me life and it smiles at me so bright. I want to smile at it every day and say thank you. That is my goal, my hobby."

Her words are sweet. Little by little, she is causing my heart to think. I look up to the sky and squint. The sun is shining down on me and I think, the sun is my hobby.