When Jaromir searched for Astrid in the darkness of the night, Astrid looked for Jaromir in the sun's brightness. They were both blinded. I saw them both. I saw who they were, even if that gave me the most ardent pain mankind can ever endure. Jaromir Dragarevic turned out to be a full-fledged man. He was more than the embodiment of the Tigrisian salvation ideology, but a complete collate of superiority, nobility, beauty, and intelligence in every way. He presented me with the spectacle of hope and trust. My heart and mind kneeled in front of his flawed brilliance. He was a man who was steep enough that even his flaws were pieces of his wonder. Hence, it was unfortunate to see the dark clouds descend upon him in the absence of Astrid. I often thought that this was unfair. It was unjust for Astrid to head to lands where healing reigns, unfair that Jaromir was stuck in the void of his heart, not knowing piece by piece Astrid was falling apart, unfair for me whose heart was trapped into the eyes of Astrid since the first time I saw her. While Jaromir watched Helena choose the flowers sprinkled upon them when they walked into the Miliaca Monastry, Astrid had already tried every herb that might end her pain. 

Between the rise and dawn of the sun, hours were needles to step on. Each breath was to take out the needle stuck deep under my feat. There was the atmosphere of a celebration all around the country. Each tree of Belgrad forest was fancied by motives of golden dragons, which the villagers had already stolen. King Jaromir asked me to join him in hunting. I refused. He was too kind to state he wanted to be alone. I watched him mounting his horse and riding into the forest from the window of the stairway. Servants were crawling in the halls, constantly hurrying, and always had to be elsewhere. We all had to be somewhere else. Walking through the corridors, I grabbed a jug of wine a maid carried on a silver tray. 

As I entered my room and locked the door behind me, I could finally take a deep breath. Sun had not lighted the room yet. I lit the candles. I was still avoiding the envelope, standing on the wooden table before the window. It was spreading a scarlet beam and a scent of cinnamon and apple candy. It felt like fall, and I thought winter would come as soon as I opened it. I blew the match, and the weak smoke danced upwards. My feet reinforced me to move towards it, yet my mind was scattered far away by the forceful waves of the memory of her ocean eyes. I sat on the chair and leaned backward, holding the envelope as delicately as possible. I imagined her long white fingers gripping this piece of paper. I felt the softness of her skin. I took the letter out. Her signature was on it. "To my dear Adonis." Her voice echoed in my ears, and the letter fell onto the table down on the writing. "Dear Adonis," she had said when we met again in the presence of  Emperor Charlemagne in Roma. "Dear Adonis, I missed your company more than I thought I would."  

This was six years ago after we met at the Academy of Art in Roma. After I saw her illusionistic mural paintings of the ceiling of Saint Paul Basilica. She had grown out to become a genius, a pure talent, a masterpiece, making many masterpieces. Wurdlich Lordship had always been welcomed in Rumelia Castles. Whereas that day, my eyes found in her something that I had never seen before. It was like she was blessed by the heavenly God, touched by an angel. She was not the sister of Castaver Wurdlich anymore. She was Astrid Wurdlich, the artist who painted the world my eyes could reach. She quickly became closer to me than Castaver ever was. We had long talks about aesthetics and beauty, power and politics, angels and demons, unconditional love and rage. She used to say that she would marry me if I would be crowned. Thus, she would know what it was like to rule a country. 

After we returned from Roma, Castaver became the commander of the Tigrisian army. Hence, she moved to Belgrad to be closer to him. That's when she met Vukasin Dragarevic, the scamp prince of Tigrisia—the only visible authoritarian male figure in the country as if he had worn the cape of his long-promised brother to make people tolerate him. He was a spoilt child, sucking his mother's affection like a sponge. They danced, they sang, they laughed. Vukasin was experienced with women. I thought he carried the charm of the dragon until I saw his brother. 

Vukasin Dragarevic had nothing belonging to himself to speak. He cared about no one other than the idea of Jaromir Dragarevic. Contrary to the other royals, he had no concern about bonding, giving promises, or taking responsibility. This made him open to women. He could talk about confidential subjects for hours without shame, say anything he wanted, and do anything he wished. He could take anyone's hand and kiss everyone's lips. We, on the other hand, always needed to be virtuous and always keep our distance. 

This was what Astrid found in Vukasin: freedom - which she would never have. Maybe she thought that she would finally be free together with Vukasin, not aware that she was just a device of his freedom. She became one of his escorts for five months, and the moment she spoke about love, he disappeared. Nevertheless, I knew that she never loved him. She loved to act without consequences - the consequences that keep us turning the wheels. I was consoling her, the shoulder she put her head on, yet I was never further than being "Dear Adonis." However, I waited. I waited for her, as I waited for my throne, as I desired my crown. Vukasin was ill-chosen in comparison to me. Sooner or later, she would have the tick I felt that day I saw her in Saint Paul Basilica. 

When the day came, I walked through the church, all the past Rumelian Kings portraying gazing at me from the walls. For once, I thought that I also had the golden moire on top of my head. My eyes were constantly searching for her when the presbyters were putting the crown on my head. I got a sense of settlement. My life's goal was more evident than ever. I thought that I completed all the stages. I felt myself as a wild sparrow knitted the most beautiful nest ever seen. I was calling for her, yet I was inaudible. She couldn't make it. Then there got time, politics, people, cities, and duties between us.  

Finally, I saw her with Tigrisia's unquenchable sun in the castle where I longed for her for life. They were sitting at my table, in my presence. I had heard them be together, King Jaromir gathering all the memorable artists worldwide to Tigrisia- yet knowing the man, I was in utmost despair that he seemed to be the one everyone awaited. He was more than an idea but a leader. I saw it in his eyes gleaming a yellow light the first time we shook hands.

On the other hand, still, he was too perfect for Astrid. He lacked the outrageous temper that the man of our century possessed. I knew Astrid too well that his magnificence would bore her. Thereby, deep down, I was not surprised to hear she wanted to share a private matter with me. When all the gentlemen left the room to leave us alone, I thought I saw her pleading in my eyes. She would understand who she had wanted since the beginning, I wished. "My dear Adonis," she said again. I was helpless. I was like a little child indulged by a compliment - I could do anything to have heard it again. "Anything you wish." She walked towards me and took my hand into her palms.

I was exhilarated. "Can I be seen by the doctors of the castle?" I was confused and worried. "Of course, what happened?" She faced down and looked up to meet my eyes. "I don't know," she whispered. "Whatever it is, did it start today?" She refused with her head. "Do you feel pain?" Her eyes were soaked, lips were blood-red. "Yes," she raved. "What did the doctors of Dragon Nest say?" Her eyes widened in terror. "You cannot tell anyone. Jaromir cannot know!"

I squeezed her shoulder slightly and leaned towards her. "Why?" I asked. She was about to fall into tears. She took out a handkerchief from her low neck. The white tissue was dimmed to blood. "I cough blood," she said with a trembling voice. I shuddered, immediately grabbed her hand, and faced the hidden gateway from the back of the room. Within a few minutes, we were in the room of the sanitarians. She didn't want me there. I exited the room and waited for her in front of the door. After a while, the door was spaced. I rushed in. Thin layers of veins covered Astrid's pale skin. It was evident that she had cried. I walked towards her and attempted to embrace her. She initially pushed me back. I persisted. In the end, she dropped in hiccups between my arms. She had the white plague. Nobody in Rumelia had ever recovered from the white plague. "There must be a cure!" The doctor scanned some of the old dusty books that he had. "I will look into all the records about the disease," he said.

She glided like a ghost. I took her to my bedroom to be isolated from the eye. She sat on the bed and tilted her head to the side. "Soon, I will be dead," she whispered. I felt an arrow twisting in my heart. "This is not going to happen!" I resisted. She hid her eyes from mine. "You must tell this to King Jaromir. He is now the strongest man in the Balkans. He surely can bring any doctor to you." She knitted her teeth and screamed, "What if there is no cure? What if he cannot save me!" She scorned in the room, lighter than a feather. "I cannot do this to him, not now. There is an upcoming war. He needs to be focused, awake, undistracted." I instantly got so furious. "Who cares about him!" She tightened her fist. "I care!" For a moment, there was relentless silence. "Even more than myself," she added. "If he loses me despite all his efforts, this will break him. He thinks he could cheat death, Adonis. He believes that he can win any war that he attends. I want him to stay as the man who can make any miracle come true." 

My lips were tied up by her words, sealed by her eyes. "Are you in love with him?" I asked, then immediately regretted it. "My heart honestly, truly and completely belongs to him. When it stops pounding, I will be warmed by his love. I do not scare the coldness," yet she started weeping again. I felt my lashes were soaked. There was a thud in my throat that was constantly aching. I crouched near her and took her hands between mine. "Please do not cry. Please don't do this to me." As she looked into my eyes with her pair of dark oceans, I couldn't help myself crying. "Why do you love him this much? Why him? How could you love someone this much to sacrifice yourself?" I raved between my gasps.

Then I felt her heart beating for him as mine was beating for her. She wiped her eyes, yet she didn't stop crying yet. "My dear, my dearest Adonis, promise me that you will take care of Jaromir. You will fight beside him, and he will win every battle that he attends, and he will be utmost happy." Rage climbed up to my throat again, and who will take care of me in your absence, I thought. For a moment, I dreamed that if she loved me, my love could cure her. Jaromir Dragarevic could never love her as I do. "I promise," I said. I promise, I said when every inch of me was telling the other except my heart. My heart belonged to her and was already acclaimed the duty. 

As the sun shone on us again, King Jaromir prepared to leave. I walked to the entrance gates to see him off. Suddenly, the castle's doctor ran after me. "My King!" he called—he ignited a piece of old yellow paper in my palm. "Years ago, a doctor from Barton Hills had cured such a case," he whispered. I opened the crumpled paper and quickly read it. 

King Jaromir shook hands with me, "When the time comes, I expect you to fulfil your oath," he said. I felt shattered. He went to mount his horse. Astrid approached me. I took her hands into mine and put the paper inside. "You will go there, then return to me," I said. She tightened her fist that carried the paper. "Thank you," she whispered. For a moment, I saw Jaromir Dragarevic looking at me with a pernicious golden blaze. Then he reared his horse, and his men followed him out of the castle. 

Those days, I pitied Astrid to confuse love with admiration. Then, I got to know King Jaromir. Beneath that noble posture, handsome face, and brilliant mind, I saw something forbidden: some hint of darkness. He carried an ineffable rage within his soul. His poetic words and indulgent behaviour were all layers stitched on that. He was an angry man; cruelty and ambition lay in his heart. I saw times he couldn't hide it any longer. Those times, he was helpless to beware of the monster inside—associated with the descriptions of that Danishmenthan King. I thought to be successful in that many battles, you must sell your soul to the devil. 

Astrid must have seen it long before. It was romantic, in fact poetic, to see a man appear as a saint despite the darkness constantly calling him. I believed that was what attracted Astrid in the first place. 

Finally, I reached for the letter on the table.

 "I assume when you read this letter, I will already start my treatment. I found the miraculous doctor in Barton Hills. His name is Lanc. He said I was lucky to be here soon. He said the disease is not untreatable. There are patients here suffering from the same. Oh, Adonis, you cannot imagine how hopeful I am. I observe them looking so much better day by day. This is all thanks to you. You might just saved my life by giving me the courage to hold on. I said terrible, irrevocable things to Jaromir to make him hate me, to make him forget me, hence not be upset when I am gone. Now I regret it. My heart is aching when I recall how I broke him.

I am looking forward to the day we retrieve each other. Please write to me about him, how he is. What is the current situation of the country? Does he miss me? The time when he proposed to me, I wanted to say yes to every part of me. Now, I feel I will have another chance to answer. I want you to tell Castaver the truth and that I am feeling better but learned not to speak too soon. When I return, I will explain them by myself. Please write to me about anything that comes up in your mind till we meet again.

Yours

Astrid."

I was relieved, feeling over the moon. Then I saw the wedding decorations carried on cattle from the window. It was impish to tell Astrid that King Jaromir was getting married. She needed a reason not to give up. I was not going to be the one stealing that reason from her. I should talk with King Jaromir to delay the wedding so Jaromir would choose what to do after Astrid's return. I abruptly stood up and got out of the room to find him.