His Last Song

I heard it through a door.



The song that ended it all.



The one that erased everything, even himself.



His Last Song.



And I was hearing it again.



But instead of a battlefield, it was coming out of a practice room.



I did not remember opening the door.



He stopped as soon as he saw me.



He did not look at me.



He never looked at me.



I buried the feeling of my death because if I let go of anything, I was going to let go of everything.



“What was that?” I said.



Nothing.



He did not even acknowledge my question.



“The piece. What was it?”



“You would not know it.”



“Then tell me.”



And he looked at me.



For the first time, I did not feel like furniture.



“It reminds me of my mother.”



That stopped every thought in my head cause I knew exactly where this was going.



“She is gone because of you and your people. Your father took her from me. Then my father shook hands with yours and wrote your name next to mine on a piece of paper and called it peace.”

“I did not…”



“Keep your excuse to yourself, Your Highness. I don't know why you are trying so hard but you should stop.”



His voice did not rise.



That was the worst of it.



It came out level and quiet.



Perfectly polite.



Only the white of his knuckles around the violin betrayed him.



“We are engaged,” I said.



“I am aware.”



“Then talk to me. That is all I’m asking for. We will be standing at an altar in front of two nations….”



“I would rather watch the world burn before standing at an altar with you.”



He said it without hesitation.



And I stopped breathing.



Because I had seen the world burn.



I had seen the bodies of soldiers piled together.



And through it all, I had seen him.



A boy with a violin.



Standing in the middle of the battlefield.



But this time would be different.



This time, I would not be the furniture.



If hatred was the only thing he was willing to give me, then fine.



Let him hate me.



Because hatred was a rope.



I could hold on to it.



As well as pull it too.



He thought he had told me no.



Instead, he just gave me somewhere to start.



Last time I ignored him for years.



This time, I would force him to acknowledge my existence.



Even if his hatred was the only way to make him look at me....